Say Your Goodbyes

by Linda Ladd

  Jenn stood up. She looked highly peeved. Jenn was also one hell of a good interrogator. After that little spiel of self-serving crap, Novak let Jenn take over. He just stood behind the louvers and searched the crowd below in case the Mayan decided to show up.

  “How did the kidnappers get to you?” Jenn asked her. “Tell me. Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”

  “I met this guy at a nightclub in Merida. He was really cute and looked just like Adam Levine, you know, the singer in Maroon 5. He was just gorgeous. He had all these cool tats and was real sweet to me. Paid me lots of attention and bought my drinks. Then we drove to Cancun and partied there for a while. I liked him a lot. I still like him. I wish he wasn’t dead.”

  Apparently, that remark might possibly be true, because big fat tears welled up in her eyes. She let the sobs burst forth. Looked fairly real, too. Novak watched the tears roll down her cheeks, not particularly impressed. She was good at concocting sob stories. She was good at sobbing. He had listened to more of that than he ever wanted to remember. Somehow, though, now he was leaning toward believing her. Bad thing was, he had gotten himself in one hell of a mess because of her, and now he’d brought Jenn in on it, too. Not good.

  Jenn wasn’t finished. Didn’t look like she believed her, either. “What’s his name?”

  “Diego.”

  “How long did the two of you date?”

  “A couple of months, maybe three.” Marisol wiped the wetness off her cheeks with her fingers. “I thought he loved me. He said he did. I loved him. I loved him a lot. He was sweet and he was really nice to me.” She stared up at them, eyes shining with loss. Maybe the tears were real. Maybe not. Probably not.

  “Did your father know about this boyfriend?” Novak asked her. “Is that why he sent this Mayan guy after you?”

  “I guess, I don’t know. Papi hates me. So does the Mayan. I ran away a couple of times before I even met Diego. I’m so scared of Papi. You don’t know him. He just gets mad and explodes and does terrible things to people. I’ve seen him. He goes berserk and sometimes just kills somebody for some little thing that doesn’t amount to anything.” She stopped there and sniffled around and wept some more. Then she started up again, all trembling voice and quivering lips. “I was too scared to go back home or to call Mama. I thought she’d tell on me. I thought I could run off with Diego and we could disappear and be together forever and I’d never have to see my family again. Papi said he was going to put me in a convent for good if I didn’t behave. He thinks I should be this little angel that never does anything wrong. He said I couldn’t drink or smoke or go to parties or wear short skirts. He said I had to be a nun.”

  Novak scoffed at that. So did Jenn. Marisol pouted because they didn’t believe her.

  “Diego couldn’t have loved you much if he asked your father to ransom you.”

  “I thought he loved me. He said he did. So when he invited me to go on a cruise on his father’s yacht, I said yes. He kept telling me he loved me, and I believed him. He was kind. Then when the Mayan found us and sneaked aboard, Diego tried to save me. That’s when the Mayan shot him dead.” She turned to Novak. “You saw that. You saw how he shot him down. That’s when I ran and he chased me.”

  “Yeah, old Diego was just one hell of a great guy, wasn’t he? But he betrayed you for money and now he’s dead.” Novak returned his gaze to the dancers below his window. “For God’s sake, what the hell’s the matter with you? This Diego guy kidnapped you. How the hell could you love him after that?”

  “Well, he had a good reason. He probably needed money so we could run off together. I understand that. He probably wouldn’t have turned me over to Papi once he got the money. Not if I didn’t want to go. But I don’t care! He didn’t deserve to die like that, shot in the face, just because he took me out on his boat. I understood why he did it. I would’ve gone with him anyway, if he’d just asked. I told him that.”

  Novak turned to look at her. “What about those bruises on your wrists and ankles? How’d you get those if you two were such lovebirds?”

  Marisol hesitated, looked down at her hands a moment. “He told me what he was doing. Said he had to tie me up so it would look real. He said he’d turn me over, and then he’d come back and meet me somewhere and we’d take the ransom money and run away and never come back to Mexico. And then the Mayan showed up and chained us down in the bilge. He kept coming down and hitting us. Then Diego got loose and we tried to get away, but the Mayan killed him.”

  Jenn sighed. Not happy, either. “Is that his real name? Diego? Diego what?”

  “Diego Ortiz. He was really sweet. And he did love me. I know he did. You can’t tell me that he didn’t.”

  Jenn was not gentle. “Grow up, Marisol. Quit acting like a naive little girl. The guy was probably going to kill you after he got the money. He used you and got killed doing it. You’re lucky you’re not dead because of him.”

  “He would never hurt me.”

  “What about the bruises? That didn’t hurt?”

  She was quiet for a moment, sitting there and rubbing her wrists. “Like I said, Diego didn’t want to tie me up but he had to make it look real.”

  “And you actually believed that?” Jenn said.

  Marisol stared at Jenn a moment and then swiveled her gaze to Novak. She turned on the waterworks again. The absolute picture of misery. And she sure as the devil had made Novak’s life miserable, right along with hers. His lingering sympathy for the kid was eroding fast. All he wanted now was to get rid of her and go back home.

  Jenn looked at Novak. “So now what? You plan to keep babysitting this kid? That your plan?”

  “I hope you mean ‘we’?”

  “Hell no, I don’t mean ‘we.’ I mean you. Trust me on that. I want nothing to do with this girl. She’s a little liar, and she’s lying to you now. I thought you had better instincts than this, Novak. I cannot believe you bought this little crybaby act of hers. She’s going to get you killed. Wait and see.”

  Jenn meant every word. Jenn always meant everything she said, and she was usually right on. He’d had his doubts, all right, but the kid had been young enough and pitiful enough that he had felt the need to help her. “Yeah, but you haven’t heard the entire story. She’s been telling lies, but that’s not the real problem. We’ve got that assassin coming right behind us. The Mayan. He wants to kill her. And he wants to kill me, and you, if you get involved.”

  “Yes, I’d say that’s a problem, all right. My take? Leave her right here in this room and let me extract you out of Mexico, while you’re still alive and in one piece.”

  Novak hesitated. Jenn was right, of course. He was tempted to take off and let the kid fend for herself. But Jenn hadn’t seen the carnage left on that beach by the Mayan. She didn’t know his brutal ruthlessness. The Mayan wanted Marisol back, or probably just dead, and he most likely had a large paycheck riding on it. He would slit her throat and take the long braid of hers home to her daddy as proof. Daughter disposed of. Novak didn’t like Marisol much, not at all right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to simply abandon her. Not with that psycho following them. No matter how much the kid had lied to Novak, the fact was she did not have a chance against this Mayan guy. Maybe Jenn could get them both to the States. Once there, Novak could hand Marisol Ruiz over to the FBI and wash his hands of her for good. They’d probably be glad to get a mafioso’s daughter in their custody. Then Novak could salvage his damn boat and get on with his life.

  Jenn slung the heavy backpack up onto the bed and flipped it open. She had stuffed clothes inside, lots of them, packed neatly, garments that would fit Novak and Marisol, as well as everything else she assumed they were going to need. Novak was more interested in the food. He was hungry, hadn’t had much to eat since their capture. Neither had Marisol. He took out a couple of bananas and tossed one to the girl.

  “Go change into these clothes,” Jenn ordered Marisol, handing her a pair of faded denim jeans
, a light blue chambray shirt, and a St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap. “I guess we better cut your hair if you hang around very long. That braid’s going to identify you right off the bat. Maybe you could pass for a boy until we get you back to the safe house.”

  “But I like my hair long,” whined Marisol.

  “Tough shit,” Jenn told her. “Unless you want us to call your Papi and tell him to come pick you up.”

  Marisol puckered up but didn’t cry anymore. Maybe she’d met her match. She took the clothes and walked into the bathroom. Once the door was shut, Jenn didn’t hold back. “Every word that comes out her mouth is a damn lie, Novak.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Okay, so now the Mexican police are probably after you, too, on top of Daddy the drug lord. This is not good news, Novak. God knows who else is looking for her. And they’ll keep coming until they get her or until we can cross into the U.S.”

  Novak grabbed a tan canvas shirt and black ball cap out of the bag and put them on, but he kept his gaze on the crowd. The mariachi band was still playing. Some couples were dancing now. The women were swirling full red skirts, the men clicking their heels and clapping their hands. People were standing in a ring and watching them, clapping along. Having a good time. Happy. Must be nice. “Or both of us could hide out in your safe house until things cool off.” He spoke without looking at Jenn.

  When he glanced back at her, Jenn did not look thrilled at the idea. “And let’s not forget her daddy’s cartel. You know, the one full of murdering, cold-blooded henchmen who behead people just for the hell of it. Know how he sends out warnings, Novak? With headless dead bodies. Sometimes he sends the heads to the family. Sometimes he sends the bodies. So you tell me, what are they gonna do to us if they catch us helping her?”

  “They’ll kill us before they ask a single question and then take their boss’s baby girl home to Daddy. Or they’ll just kill her on his orders and dump her body.” Novak hesitated. “There’s something else you need to know.”

  “Oh my God. Now what? This cannot get any worse.”

  “Oh, it can. Trust me.” Novak caught Jenn’s full attention and held it. “This guy. The one she calls the Mayan? He’s not just one of Ruiz’s employees and not just an adopted son, or whatever. He’s a highly trained assassin. He sure as hell knows what he’s doing. His MO is to cut the throat and then take the scalp as a souvenir. He’s already killed at least ten or twelve people. I saw the bodies.”

  Jenn stared at him. “He’s a professional assassin?”

  “I think so. A brutal, deadly little guy. He takes scalps.”

  Jenn sank down on the bed. “My God, Will. I can’t believe you just walked into something like this. You know better.”

  She had reverted to calling him Will. A good sign. “He’s going to kill us, too, if he finds us first, and he’s damn good at it,” Novak said. “That’s why we need to get to a safe house and get there quick.”

  “He’s horrible, Jenn! He just skins off people’s hair and leaves their head all bloody and gory.” That came from Marisol, from behind the bathroom door. Eavesdropping. They ignored her. Silence reigned for several minutes.

  “Okay, now that you’ve dragged me into this, I guess I’m in. Tell me again, everything that happened.”

  So Novak told Jenn the whole sordid story. He told her how things went down out on the ocean, how he’d gotten the girl out of the water, how they’d been taken by the Asian woman and her men, how the assassin had shown up, all of it. It sounded even worse in the telling.

  “After listening to all that, I’d say this guy is most definitely a paid killer, and the girl’s daddy put out a cartel hit on his own daughter, and there’s probably one on you, too. At the very least, if he thinks you’ve got his kid, there’s probably one hell of a giant reward for anybody who brings your head to him inside a brown paper bag. That’s another fun thing the cartels down here like to do.”

  “Thanks for pointing that out.”

  “What the hell, Novak? You know better than to get caught up in something like this. Are you losing your touch?”

  Novak felt something closely akin to embarrassment. He felt ashamed, somehow. She was right. He had been gullible and careless. “They stole my boat. I want it back.”

  “Your boat. Of course. That’s the important thing in all this. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Novak got defensive. “I just tried to help a kid who I thought was in trouble. She was out in the water, floundering around and bleeding from head injuries, drowning. What would you have me do? You would’ve done the same thing I did. I know you that well.”

  Jenn didn’t deny it. She couldn’t. They commenced with another long considering look that revealed mutual annoyance. Then Jenn suddenly smiled and transformed her face into an incredibly beautiful thing. “We better watch it, Novak. We do lose control when we get angry.”

  That remark brought back a flood of memories of some wild nights spent in her bed. Their lovemaking had never been the tender, sweet kind, not like it had been with his wife, not like with Sarah. Nobody could be like Sarah. He and Jenn? They’d brought out other kinds of emotions in each other: lust and anger and passion and aggression. It had been a turn-on for both of them.

  His expression made Jenn laugh. “Yeah, I remember all that, too. Oh yes, all was good until the day you walked out and never came back.”

  Novak thought it wise to return his attention to the fiesta. She was never going to forgive him for that affront. Jenn went about unpacking the portable satellite dish and set it up in front of the open balcony doors. He was lucky she had shown up. She was an ally, a trusted friend, a professional, and that’s what he needed at the moment. It was good to see her, good to hear her voice again.

  “Okay, I guess I have no choice but to help you out,” Jenn told him. “Let’s get out of here while there’s still a distraction going on outside.”

  “You need to know about this guy coming after us. You cannot take him for granted. Those men he killed? They were armed and dangerous. He got them all with no alarm being set off. Then he tortured a woman to death. We heard her screaming, and I’ve never heard anything quite like it. So I stole his canoe and got away or he would’ve killed me and the girl, too. He is not going to leave any survivors.”

  “I doubt very much if he could’ve gotten you. You’re too good. Even if you were softhearted enough and dumb enough to believe that girl’s cockamamie story.”

  “He’s good. Well trained. Deadly.”

  “So are you.”

  They stood there and stared at each other.

  “Then we need to go. Now,” Jenn said again.

  It didn’t take long. Jenn hastily repacked the gear and then banged her fist on the bathroom door. Marisol opened it, now dressed in the clothes Jenn had given her and with all her hair stuffed up into the ball cap she had pulled down over her face. Jenn hustled her out into the corridor and then downstairs. Jenn had come in a small white Winnebago. Novak pushed the girl toward the side door of the RV and told Jenn to get them the hell out of town. Then he boarded after Marisol and sat down beside the back window with the loaded Ruger on his lap. Marisol sat across from him on the seat beside the door, eyes wide, hands clasped tightly in her lap. She’d seen the Mayan’s handiwork, and she’d never forget it. Nobody would.

  Their best bet was to hole up in one of Jenn’s safe houses until they figured out how to get out of Mexico alive. It wasn’t a good plan, not by a long shot, but it would have to do, at least until Novak had a chance to get rid of the Mayan for good.

  Chapter Ten

  Jenn should have been a driver at the Indianapolis Speedway. She got them out on the highway, hung a left, and headed down into the city. Novak and Marisol sat in the back and said nothing to each other. They drove in virtual silence for a long time, and then they hit the busier Highway 186, and the rural country landscape began to fade away. Lots of businesses, motels, and restaurants started to show up. Not much later
, Jenn turned onto the Avenida Insurgentes, which Novak knew ran across a good portion of the city before curving southward to the Boulevard Bahia, which ran along the beaches.

  Novak watched the cars out the back window, still expecting to be followed. How, he couldn’t figure, but the guy had shown himself capable of almost anything. The traffic had increased, and their surroundings looked like any other big tropical city: shopping malls, parks, schools, hotels, private homes, and lots of churches, palm trees and flowering plants everywhere. They drove past a zoo and a planetarium, with plenty of people milling around. Chetumal was the capital of the Quintana Roo state of Mexico, with clean, beautiful beaches, museums, and state government buildings down close to the sea.

  Busy day-to-day hubbub and lots of hole-in-the-wall hiding places for a man on the run to choose from, Novak thought. He knew that Jenn had several safe houses both inside and outside the city environs. That was her job and the reason they’d met in the first place. She liked to locate her houses next to busy highways or the sea, for the accessibility, so that extraction would be easier. She was driving fast and handling the Winnebago as if she had driven it over the Sierra Madre, which she just might have done.

  Traffic became snarled while they were on Insurgentes, but Novak was beginning to get his bearings. He felt himself finally beginning to relax a bit. Across from him, Marisol sat gripping the armrests of her seat and looking awfully nervous. When she saw him watching, she shut her eyes and tried for sympathy. Novak pretty much ignored her after that. He returned his attention to the road behind them. There was heavy traffic now, and they inched along the city streets with other cars and trucks and buses, past strip malls and a McDonald’s and an Applebee’s. Place didn’t look much different than any American suburb, except the signs were all in Spanish and the Mexican tricolor flag was fluttering everywhere. Jenn drove on with expert control, remained quiet, and concentrated on getting them somewhere safe. Her loaded Glock sat beside her on the middle console. As usual, she was as steady as a rock when things got dicey. She would get them to wherever she was going—no problem, no worries, sit back and relax.