Twenty minutes later, Dani was ready for whatever the day would bring.
Opening her dresser drawer, she reached for her lace scarf and rosary. Dropping them into her tote bag, she quietly tiptoed back into the living room so that she wouldn’t wake the sleeping child.
But Maria was already awake. She sat on the edge of the bed fully dressed, the paper opened to reveal the picture of her father. The youngster raised her eyes in mute appeal. Dani wanted to smash something. “I’m going to church. Would you like to come? If so, get your coat. We’ll have to hurry or we’ll be late.” The child got up from the bed as if lead weights were tied to her feet. She slipped into her coat and buttoned it with downcast eyes.
“I am ready.”
Dani held the door open, then quickly locked it before Bismarck realized she was leaving. The three-block walk to the Church of the Guardian Angels was made briskly, owing to the biting wind. Dani thought it appropriate that both she and the little girl should be going to the same church and no doubt thinking the same thing. We both need a guardian angel, she muttered under her breath.
Coming out of the tiny church fifty minutes later, Dani wondered if the dashing Alexander Renaldo Mendeneres would go to church. Probably not, she thought sourly. He was probably out on the town last night and would be nursing a hangover. Shocked at her thoughts after only just leaving the church, she prayed silently for forgiveness.
Dani and Maria walked to the crossing line at the nearest corner. While waiting for the light to change, Dani glanced behind her. Standing among the other parishioners were two men who appeared totally out of place. As the taller of the two turned to face her, she recognized the boorish man she had observed arguing with the elegantly dressed woman at the airport. Even at this distance, she could see the hooped earring piercing his ear. A chill of warning coursed through her, though she wasn’t sure why. She reached for Maria’s arm so quickly that the young girl gasped, alarm flickering in her dark eyes. The light changed to their favor. Dani hurried Maria across the street.
As they walked along, Dani realized that the two men at the church were the same two men who had been staring at her apartment window the first night Maria stayed with her.
Frightened, Dani put a protective arm around the little girl and rushed down the street toward home.
The child dragged her feet morosely and acted like she didn’t want to return to the apartment.
“What would you like for breakfast this morning?” Dani asked cheerfully, trying to dispel the chills running up and down her spine. “How about banana pancakes with fresh banana syrup? Or would you like eggs Benedict? On the other hand, I can whip you up a hamburger with all the trimmings?” Getting no response to her monologue, Dani continued. “If that doesn’t tickle your fancy I can make you fatback and hominy grits.” Still no response. “In that case, what do you say to both of us jumping off the bridge over there?” Pointing a long, scarlet-tipped finger, she said, “You first.”
Maria looked at Dani in shocked amazement. “Do you feel all right, Dani? Why should we jump off that bridge?”
“I have been talking to you for several minutes and you appear to be off in a world someplace else. Was it that picture of your father in the paper? Is that what’s upset you?” Seeing Maria’s stubborn-set face, Dani dropped the subject.
The moment they arrived at the apartment building, Maria scuffed her feet against the stone steps. “Look, honey, we have to go in. I guess this is one of those things you will have to accept. If you want to be mature, you have to take all things that go with growing up, and understanding is one of them. Don’t ever try to change something that you don’t understand. Why not give your father a fighting chance?”
“OK, Dani, a fighting chance it is.” And she added imperiously, “I will have the banana pancakes.” Her face broke into a gamine grin. Dani hugged the small child and together they entered the apartment.
Breakfast over, Dani poured herself a fourth cup of coffee. She looked at the kitchen clock: eleven twenty-three. He should be here by now. I’ll give him till noon. If he isn’t here by then, I’ll call the embassy. The hands on the small, copper clock moved like two snails. At eleven forty-seven, the doorbell rang demandingly. Dani smoothed her long, chestnut hair and licked her lips. Slowly she walked to the door. She licked her dry lips again and quickly opened the door. God, he was a handsome brute. And right now he looked like a wild stallion held at bay.
“Miss Arnold?”
“Yes!”
“I am Alexander Renaldo Mendeneres. I have come for my daughter. Be so good as to fetch her immediately. In the future, it might be wise if you did not make a practice of abducting small children.” The voice was haughty and cutting, conflicting with the warm Latin accent.
“Just—”
“Maria!” the voice thundered. “Come here immediately.”
Maria ran to her father and wrapped her arms around the tall man.
“Oh, Papa. I thought you would never come. I am so happy to see you. I have missed you.”
Dani watched the play of emotions as they flickered across his handsome, sun-bronzed face. At the sight of the child, the deep trenches at the corners of his mouth softened. The smoldering eyes darkened with emotion as the child tightened her grip on his neck.
Dani was spellbound at the outpouring of love she witnessed between the man and his child.
“Have you been mistreated, Maria?” he demanded, concern softening the harsh edges of his tone.
“Oh no, Papa, I have had a good time.”
“Now wait just a damn—” Dani never got a chance to finish the sentence.
“You are lucky, Miss Arnold, that I do not press charges. In fact, you are most fortunate that I have a human side. How much ransom did you expect to get?” Not bothering to wait for a reply, he ordered Maria to get her coat.
“Just a cotton-pickin’ minute, Mr. Alexander Renaldo Mendeneres, I have—”
“Spare me your lies. I know your type. Come, Maria.”
“My type. And what is my type?” Dani sputtered. She looked into the ice-cold slate-colored eyes and shivered inwardly. “On second thought, don’t bother to tell me.” She made her own voice equally cold as she looked down at the small child and at the perplexed look on her face. “Goodbye, Maria. Perhaps we shall meet again someday.” Holding out her hand to the child, she noticed the start of tears. “You just hang in there, little buddy, and it will all work out.”
The child tore herself from her father’s grasp and hugged Dani. Dani felt tears smart her eyes. Gently, she disengaged herself. “Be good now and I’ll see you around,” she said as if there were a frog in her throat.
With a last steely look that Dani returned in kind, the man ushered a tear-filled Maria through the door.
Dani looked at the closed door and suddenly ran to it and put the chain in place. Angrily, she raced from the kitchen. She made three gin-and-tonics and lined them up on the smooth, yellow and green counter top. Angrily she fished in the back of the cabinet drawer and brought out four ashtrays. Furiously, she lit four cigarettes, one after the other, and placed each of them in an ashtray.
Dani looked at the array in front of her and felt the tears trickle down her cheeks. Damn it to hell. What had she done? Not a thing. Finishing the first glass in three quick gulps, she reached for the first cigarette and puffed furiously. She then reached for the second glass. Taking a drink, she looked at the glass in her hand and poured the remainder down the drain. The contents of the third glass followed its mates. Crushing out the other cigarettes, she muttered, “The hell with you, Alexander Renaldo Mendeneres.” She picked up the green wall phone and dialed. “Helen, I can make it after all. You’ll pick me up at three-thirty? Fine, I’ll be ready. By the way, what are we wearing? Terrific! I just bought a blue silk sari from Thailand. See you then.”
Forcing her mind to blankness, Dani switched on her stereo and allowed Roy Orbison to invade the small apartment. Dust cloth and broom in hand, she attacked t
he apartment with a vengeance. She then called the florist and ordered three dozen daisies with extra fern. To bake a chocolate cake or not to bake a chocolate cake? Why not? At two o’clock, she ran a hot tub and liberally laced it with exotic bath salts. Reaching for Stacy’s latest Western, she settled down in the silky wetness and started to read. If one were to attend a party given by one Stacy Whittier, then one had better know what his latest novel was about. Dani felt she could not, in all good conscience, drink his liquor and eat his food if she didn’t at least have a working knowledge of his latest creative effort. By the time she reached the end of chapter four, the hero had ridden into the sunset three times and had been drygulched twice. The bath water was also cold. She looked at the cover of the book and noted the price. Six dollars and ninety-five cents, and it was a very thin paperback. Ugh! Dani grimaced. Well, whatever turns you on, she grumbled as she stepped from the bath. Wrapping a cherrycolored robe around her slim body, she proceeded to make up her face.
Fifteen minutes later, she stood back to admire her reflection in the mirror. Definitely A-OK. Reaching for the atomizer, she lavishly sprayed Yves St. Laurent and sniffed appreciatively. Holding her head at an angle, she twisted and twirled her long silken hair till she got the desired effect. Stepping into the shimmering blue sari, she had the feeling it had been made for her. Satisfied, she slipped into silver sandals. The soft cashmere shawl was the final complement to her attire. The doorbell pealed just as she cast a last look around the compact bathroom.
“Be with you in a minute,” she called. Dani checked the ashtrays, gave a last look around the gleaming apartment. Noting her reflection in the floor-length mirror in the small foyer, she winked at herself. The blue of the sari deepened her columbine gray eyes. Heavy fringes of black lashes were shadowed against her high, prominent cheekbones. Her normally wide, full generous mouth was pinched and drawn. Realizing that her emotions were altering her features, she willed herself to relax, shrugging her slim, smooth shoulders to a more natural stance. Beneath the soft, rosy glow of the lamp in the foyer, her dark hair gleamed with coppery highlights. Tucking a long stray strand behind her ear, she took a last appraising glance, this time grimacing at her reflection, and left for Stacy’s party.
Valerie Mendeneres continued to flick the glossy pages of Vogue magazine, angry at the steady, insistent rapping on her apartment door. “I’m coming,” she called indignantly. Smoothing the filmy gown over her hips and taking a critical look in the vestibule mirror, she moved to swing open the door. “Eugene,” she said derisively, “I told you I wanted to get some rest this afternoon! I’m simply exhausted by the trip and my head is aching!” Her slanted, turquoise eyes took in the form of Eugene’s friend, Lou. “And what’s he doing here?” her voice shrilled. “Look Eugene,” she added imperiously, “I thought I told you I don’t want any of your . . .” Her mind raced to find the word that described Eugene’s friend.
“Oh, pipe down, Val. Lou is a good friend of mine. You certainly are twitchy. What’s with you? I live here, too, you know!”
“But let me remind you, Eugene, I pay the rent!”
“Nag, nag.”
“Don’t give me that,” she spat. “How do you think it would look to anyone who is anyone to see that . . . that . . . creep hanging around here?”
“That’s more like it, sis. I like it when you come down to earth. Those affected ways of yours get on my nerves.” Stepping closer to Valerie, Eugene placed an affectionate arm about her resisting shoulders. “Ever since you married that ‘Cow King’ of yours, you haven’t been fit to live with.” His face broke into a slow smile that changed the normally hostile expression of his pale face to one of malice. “I just brought Lou up for a drink. We’ve had a dry afternoon. Anyway, as I was saying . . .”
Lou reached for the glass that Eugene was holding out and plopped down on the arm of the sofa.
“Get your skinny ass off the sofa. You smell,” Valerie hissed, pulling the edge of her skirt away, dreading contact with the man’s rough and seedy appearance. “I don’t want to have to pay any repair bills. Eugene is far too free with my money as it is.”
“I’ve been thinking, Val, about something you once said to me. You said it would kill Alex if anything ever happened to the kid. Knowing you as I do, I know that at times you can be incredibly stupid. You wouldn’t be crazy enough to cut us out of this and make some kind of deal with your husband all by yourself, now, would you? The kid for the scrolls, something like that, leaving you with all the money? I couldn’t allow that, Val,” he said threateningly. “We’re going to sell those scrolls. Together! If there’s one thing we don’t need right now, it’s a kid.”
Valerie sputtered and cringed away from Eugene. She knew what he said was true and she hated him for being right.
“Where is she, Eugene?” she asked hesitantly.
“The last time I saw her, she was going into an apartment with some good-looking young girl. Let me start from the beginning. I knew what flight she was on, so Lou and I arranged to meet her. I didn’t think we’d have any trouble picking her up, but I didn’t count on the kid walking around as though she owned the place. That’s what I thought when Alex didn’t show up, that she’d be standing there crying her head off. Who the hell would have thought she’d go out and rent a limousine!”
Valerie smirked. “And then, Eugene . . .”
“Well, she rode it to the UN and took the tour. Lou here has bad feet—I thought it was going to be too much for him.”
“Yes, I would think so . . . ” Val said, wrinkling her nose, inching farther away from Lou. “And then . . .”
“Well, the whole time we were trying to get her alone, but the little . . . but she was too smart. I had the feeling she knew we were there and what we were trying to do. Then she goes out into the park and picks up this young woman. After a while they took a cab to this woman’s apartment and that’s where she is now. We’re going back to stake the place. You know, Val, keep an eye on things. I feel better knowing where she is.”
“Oh, my, Eugene, how interesting! You’ve got a new plot for your next book! What is that drivel you write? Is it science fiction, Westerns, what? I never can remember,” Val said with a sly grin, enjoying Eugene’s discomfort at her allusion to his porn stories. Many a slur had been cast in his direction concerning his lack of expertise in writing anything above the level of smut. Eugene was driven by making a quick dollar and, his mind never far from the gutter, spun out reams of filth for five hundred dollars a pop.
“When we finish this deal, Val, and I have time to stop worrying how I’m going to feed myself, you’ll change your mind.”
“Yes,” sneered Valerie, “I suppose I’ll have to.”
A chill washed over Valerie as Eugene closed the door. She didn’t trust him an inch. There was an evil streak in Eugene and he would stop at nothing to gain his own ends. She knew Eugene would kill her without a moment’s hesitation if he thought she was crossing him in any way. The turquoise eyes dilated with fear as she recalled her stepbrother’s cold, merciless eyes.
A veil seemed to glaze Valerie’s eyes as she stared out of the wide, brightly draped window. If it weren’t for Maria, she probably wouldn’t be sitting here now with this knot of fear in her stomach spreading like some malignant cancer. This fear reminded her of the anguish she experienced the first time she had become convinced of her pregnancy and of the fact that she could no longer hide the obvious—even from herself.
How had it happened? A wild moment of passion, not love, never love. Whatever, it didn’t matter now. What mattered was the fact that she had Alex over a barrel and he knew it. God! How she hated him! Hated him and that brat, Maria. There was no way he could beat her in this; of that she was certain. Long, miserable years at that stinking hacienda. He would pay for that and pay dearly!
Valerie laughed gleefully as she envisioned the look on his face when Maria didn’t get off the plane. That’s one up for Eugene, she chortled. Suddenly, sh
e sobered. Still, if things got sticky, Alex would have to protect her. She was his wife and entitled to all the protection his name could give her.
Valerie closed herself in the master bedroom and flung herself down on the French divan that occupied one corner of the suite, decorated with a feminine touch.
Her mind buzzed, reeling backward in time and placing her once again in the garden outside the hacienda in Argentina. She had felt light-headed then, so she had quietly stepped out to relax under the deep green trees to await the relief from her headache tablets. It was there, as she was lying comfortably and enjoying the winsome breezes, that she overheard the conversation between Alex and the señora.
“I wish I could say something that would help you, Alex,” the señora was saying, “but I fear I cannot, my son. This is your responsibility and the decisions are yours. The secret was entrusted to you when you were but a child. Now that you are a man, I do not imagine it lies any less heavy on your shoulders.”
Alex had sighed wearily. “Yes, Madre, I have been having the same nightmare lately: I’ve heard from Rome and they have instructed me to bring them the scrolls. And when I get to the cave, they are gone. The cask is open and I see that they are gone. I’ve no idea why I keep dreaming this; there is no one else besides you, Madre, who knows of the cave and its secret.”
“It is a shame that you could not entrust the secret to Valerie, as did the other Mendeneres men to their wives.”
“We both know why I am not able to tell her. Also, it doesn’t seem as important since there is no son to pass the secret on to.”
“That is why, Alex,” the señora said, conviction in her voice, “I am certain the secret will be revealed in your lifetime. With the world today, I have no doubt it will be soon.”
Afraid she would be caught eavesdropping, Valerie tiptoed quietly from her position in the garden. The tone that Alex had used was strange to her. And what cave was he talking about? There were no caves on the hacienda. She should know; she had ridden over every inch of the estate many times. And what were the “scrolls”? Evidently something very valuable and very important to Alex.
The Future Scrolls Page 5