A DANGEROUS HARBOR

by RP Dahlke

  "It sounds as if you have a wonderfully close family."

  "Mmm-mm," he said between mouthfuls. "That's why my uncle was so thrilled to see us at his place last week. I don't see him or my aunt enough and they're good people."

  Katy was beginning to get the picture. "Mother? Father?"

  "My father died three years ago, but my mother is living, and she has six grandchildren and a private girl's school to run, so she is content."

  "There are enough wealthy families here in Ensenada to support a private school?"

  He closed his mouth around another bite and silently shook his head, asking for a moment while he swallowed. With a quick swipe of his napkin, he explained. "It is private so that she can do as she pleases. My mother is determined to educate poor girls through high school and, when she finds the exceptional student, into college. She has this huge old limousine that she got from some deposed South American dictator—it has bullet holes on the driver's side, which she refuses to have repaired, and she has a driver, Marco. Every morning at five a.m. he waits at several assigned places and then drives them to the school where they get a hot meal and a decent education."

  "Indians too?" she asked, remembering the Indian children begging with their mother near the fish market in town.

  "When my mother can browbeat the parents into allowing them away from the fields. When you were at Baja Naval, did you meet Roxanna? She's the bookkeeper in the office."

  Katy remembered a self-confident young woman with flashing almond-shaped dark eyes and a humorous mouth at the marina office. Roxanna was the one who called Raul for her and then getting no satisfaction, gave the phone a slam-dunk back onto its cradle, and she did have the look of the local Indians.

  "The revolution here was about the old land grants that had been gifted in the millions of acres and held for centuries by absentee owners who seldom lived here. The revolution threw out the charters and divided the land up into smaller family plots and gave a voice to the Mestizo. The condition, that the property had to be improved in fifty years or it would revert to the government and be sold, meant corruption, theft and in some cases murder, where land, especially attractive seaside property, was acquired so that developers could make a profit."

  "I have a friend who is Mexican-American," Katy said. "She bought a condo in Puerto Vallarta, only to repeatedly have it padlocked on her. Something about the land being stolen from the poor? She got a Mexican judge to reverse the order, but it's still dragging through the court."

  "Yes, the developers pay off the lawyers and the poor are left with some rocky acreage up in the hills as recompense. Change comes hard to Mexico."

  Katy, replete from the good wine and delicious lasagna, quietly asked, "Why does the parrot have no feathers, Raul?"

  "Parrots develop a life-long devotion to a mate of their species or an owner. And if their mate, or in this case, owner, dies—they grieve and drop their feathers. My sisters say I am mad to keep him. But I thought if I kept him with me that someday he would recover and they will grow again."

  She turned the wine glass around, wondering if Raul had recovered yet. "It must be terribly painful to come home and hear your wife's voice calling to you. Does he do that 'Dinner, sweetheart' every night?"

  He sighed and stood up. Stacking the dishes onto a nearby wheeled butler's trolley, he said, "Come and sit on the couch with me."

  Katy, too interested in his story to object, settled next to Raul on the big comfortable cushions of the sofa. He sat a little farther away than she would have liked, but he stretched an arm across the back of the sofa and lightly stroked her shoulder then let his hand fall away as he began talking.

  "My dead wife's voice, the laughter of my children—my daily penance, my monthly scourging and my annual sacrifice, such as it is, to their deaths."

  Katy waited for him to continue as the seconds turned into minutes.

  "I was a lawyer then. I got my law degree in the U.S. as my father wanted me to, married to a good girl from a good family and we had two very young boys. I was representing Ford Motors in La Ciudad, as we call Mexico City. Ensenada was considered a haven away from places like Mexico City, which was, and still is, the world capital for kidnappings. So, what did I have to worry about? You've seen the gate and wall outside? It was built after they were murdered, so I don't know why I bothered—I was too late. The house was a design of my father's and he had it built as a wedding gift to us. I loved this house once, but I don't see it anymore… do you understand what I mean?"

  "I think I do."

  "There had been some problems with what I thought of as the local bad boys smuggling marijuana into the U.S. but my wife was uneasy. She noticed that several homes here on the mountain had been bought by strangers and there were parties and cars coming and going all hours of the night. We had servants, but I hired a guard to watch my family and check incoming visitors.

  "One evening, my wife and sons were on the patio next to the house, where the boys liked to play. My sons, I'm told, heard popping sounds, and thinking it fireworks, went to see. The bullets hit my older son first. When my wife screamed and ran for him, more bullets hit her, then my youngest. The servants, to their own peril, dragged them behind the house to safety, but it was too late. I flew home on a friend's private jet…."

  "Raul… I…."

  "The shooters, the killers, were never found. As well as my family, the police found the occupants of the house next door murdered. I had that house, and all the other houses on this mountain burned to the ground, and the wall and gate built.

  "When I finally accepted that the killers were never going to be brought to justice, I became a federal agent for the Mexican government. At first I worked only in Mexico City, but our federal government, even with Calderon as President, has no hope of stanching the bleeding that has become part of this country with the cartels. So, I came home to be close to my family again, and now I work for the President and report on the cartels' activities from Ensenada."

  "That's all very dangerous work."

  "I did say penance, didn't I? And I have the parrot, his name is Sal Mineo, we call him Mineo. I see my family more often now that I am here, and they are very patient with me, but I have to say that when I asked my sister to fix dinner for two she was ecstatic… of course, tomorrow I will have to repay her with information."

  Katy thought back to their first dinner out and his comment that he'd have to report in to his family the next day. As wonderful as the house was, it was obvious to her that it had become a mausoleum for the man and parrot.

  She looked down at his hands, at the gold wedding band on his left hand. "You date, but not here in Ensenada."

  He touched the ring and said, "It doesn't do much for the ambitions of the local matrons with eligible daughters, but until now, I have not had a reason to remove it." He searched her face for understanding. "I have friends and another home in Puerto Vallarta, Katrina, but no one woman that I truly care for."

  Taking all this in, Katy was at first amazed that she didn't see it from the beginning. But then, she'd been too busy handling Gabe's problems and the investigation, and Raul… that was why… and every time she thought she saw something in his eyes that matched hers… she'd been right the first time, she just didn't want to think she was falling for a married man. But the attraction between them was real.

  She shook her head and laughed, startling him. "Aren't we a pair? You, a grieving widower, and me, limping down to Mexico where I can hide from the fact that my fiancé dumped me and my job with the San Francisco police department may just be in the toilet."

  "He dumped you? You are no longer engaged to be married? I read the San Francisco newspaper notice of your engagement. You were to be married in a month."

  "I was actually relieved. But Raul, where do you think this could go, this attraction for each other? Certainly nowhere else but this room, and your wife and children live here still, and certainly as long as you have that parrot. And if that isn'
t enough, you're hoping to catch the men who killed your family. What do you want from me, Raul?"

  He looked from her eyes to her mouth and back again, memorizing her face for when she was gone again. "Is it not enough that I fight with myself to keep from coming to you at all hours because I can't bear to stay away? So, I'll tell you what I want," he said, moving closer to her. "I want to be with you, for as long as you want to be with me. For a day, or a lifetime. What do we have to lose, Katrina Hunter?"

  She opened her mouth to answer then closed it, and unable to speak she reached out and put a hand on his cheek. He covered her hand with his own, turned it palm up and ran a forefinger lightly along the crease next to her palm. "This is your lifeline, cara mia, it is yours to do with as you please. No one but you can choose. So, choose, Katrina."

  And that was when she heard a raspy voice calling, "Oigame! Tengo sueños."

  "We're keeping him awake?"

  Raul sighed and looked at his watch. "Mineo's bedtime. And if we don't shut up soon, he'll—"

  "Tengo sueños!"

  "—keep it up until we do shut up." Raul stood, drawing her into an embrace. "Perhaps I have been too blunt and you need to consider? I have said what I want, but I don't know if I can stand the rejection—not tonight."

  She raised her face to his. "The answer is yes, but surely not here?"

  Raul smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he brought his mouth down onto hers for a long deep kiss and then pulled back and said, "We keep an apartment for guests and clients at the winery. No one will be there tonight but us."

  She looked at him and nodded. If tonight was all they had, she'd gladly take it.

  They said little on the short ride over the mountains to where a wide valley opened up under the clear moonlit night. He drove with one hand, the other folded over hers as if reluctant to miss out on one single moment of their time together.

  Following a dirt road between vineyards, she saw a cluster of outbuildings in the distance. Raul drove up to an iron gate ornately decorated with vines and grapes and an overhead arch with words stamped out in metal. "It says Angelita Winery," Raul said, releasing her hand long enough to punch in the numbers that made the gate swing open and drive through.

  He punched the gas, and without waiting to see the gate close behind them, pulled into a cobblestone yard next to a huge barn.

  He got out, came around to her side and offered her his hand. When she slid out of the car, her nostrils immediately flared to the scent of hay, horses, old oak barrels, grapes and the simple singular notes of new wine.

  Raul unlocked a door and asked her to wait for him. Soon the seams of the barn leaked a warm light from within and she heard a sound as the big barn doors slid open on motorized tracks. The place was enormous, with barrels and wooden crates and tractors and forklifts.

  He led her down the center and then upstairs to another level, turning off the lower lights as he pulled her into a darkened room. He hit a switch by the door and recessed lighting showed a fully furnished and very masculine apartment. The walls were of a natural seasoned and grayed wood, the furniture dark brown leather couch, loveseat and a club chair and tables. Against one wall was an entertainment center and on the opposite side of the room was a compact kitchen with granite countertops and stainless stove, dishwasher and fridge.

  "This is lovely."

  "Thank you. It's a better than anything Ensenada has to offer when clients fly in, and besides, it keeps the negotiations here at the winery."

  He stepped around a bar and brought out two wine glasses and a couple of bottles. "Last year's Barbera is very good, or would you rather have the chardonnay?"

  "The Barbera, please, but first, your bathroom?"

  He nodded towards a door to her right and said, "The switch is on your left." Then he smiled silently and dug the opener into the cork.

  Katy opened the door, hit the switch and gasped. She had opened the door not on a bathroom, but a large bedroom with more recessed lighting and French doors that opened onto a second-story veranda. There were no window coverings to mar all the moonlight flooding into the room. She walked over to them and opened one, breathing in the night smells of the winery, then turned back into the room and walked over to the king-sized bed where she pulled back the spread.

  She used the master bath and returned to the living room, where Raul was waiting for her with a glass.

  He touched the rim of his glass to hers, sending a tinkle of a two-note song into her heart. "To new beginnings."

  She took a sip, nodded her approval, then put it down on the bar, and taking his hand said, "The moonlight won't wait all night, Raul."

  He kissed her lightly on the lips then drew back, his expression searching as he scanned her face for doubt.

  She raised her chin and leveled her eyes to match his expression, then broke into a grin. "I have no doubts about tonight, Raul. Now, please take me to bed."

  He smiled warmly and arm in arm they walked through the door and into the bedroom.

  Chapter Twenty:

  The short ride back to the marina was quiet until he drove under the portico at the hotel.

  "I admit I saw your police connections as a bonus and I am grateful that you have discovered another suspect in Wallace Howard." He got out, went around to her side and opened her door, offering a hand out. Still holding her hands in his, he said, "But now I would like for you to move your boat back to Baja Naval, have your boat prepared for shipping."

  "But…" She was confused by his willingness to let her go.

  "I want you away from here, not away from me," he said, gesturing towards the darkened marina where yachts quietly lined the docks. "Leaving this marina will send them all a message. The case is closed and you are no longer a threat."

  "Then you do think one of them killed the girl, and not Spencer?" She tried to pull her hands away, but he held on.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissing her forehead, said, "The case is now too close to the Mexican cartel and they have spidery tentacles into every facet of our government and I won't have you subjected to even the tiniest bit of their interest. Besides, you and I need a real vacation. I do not keep talking parrots in my home in Puerto Vallarta. Will you consider it?"

  "What about Gabe?"

  "Gabe can have a bus or plane ticket to anywhere he wants," he said, kissing her cheek and then capturing her mouth for one last hungry kiss.

  She was abruptly dropped back into the moment when Raul said, "Perhaps you will have an answer for me when you arrive in Baja Naval."

  "Yes," she said, planting one last quick kiss on his mouth. She started to turn away, but Raul caught her hand, lifted it to his lips and said, "Nunca que las sombras olvidaron mis mentes." She smiled at the promise and turned away to head back to her darkened boat.

  The literal translation to his comment was Never will the shade cover my memories, but it really meant that no matter what her decision, he would never forget her.

  Walking along the marina fence in the warm moonlight, she let her hand drift over a recently trimmed privet hedge until she came upon a single red geranium sticking up like a flag above the tightly sculpted greenery. The Mexicans saw what others missed; the importance of beauty and color and life to the otherwise bland green hedge. It reminded her about what was best in the Mexican people, their generosity to the less fortunate, their courage and heartfelt love of country. This was what Raul was talking about, why he felt so ashamed that the cartels had enveloped the land in a dismal shroud of pain and suffering and no one, least of all him, seemed to be able to do anything about it.

  At her gate, she noticed a bundle of rags, probably old clothes left for the dock boys, and put out a foot to toe it aside, but she recoiled when it moaned and said her name.

  She squatted down next to him. "Gabe? What the hell…." There was a whiff of alcohol and the vomit that comes before passing out in the street. "Good grief! Can't you show some restraint?"

  "Some—somebod
y sandbagged me."

  "Here?"

  "Depends. Where am I?"

  "You're at the gate of my marina. It's three a.m."

  "Guess the bar closed without me… ugh. Help me up, will ya?"

  She pulled him to his feet and with his arm anchored across her shoulder, she turned for her boat. "Try not to make any noise till we get back on board."

  They lurched in the direction of her boat slip, Gabe groaning with each step.

  "Can you try not to do that?"

  "They kicked me in the ribs. I think one's broken."

  Shocked, she started to question him, then clamped her mouth shut against any more comments, hoisted his arm up higher and in a few more steps they reached her boat.

  She gave him a push up into the cockpit, but as he rolled over the side, she heard a feminine squeal.

  Gabe cursed and growled something and then she heard him say, "What the hell—Leila?"

  Katy scrambled in after him, hit the cockpit light and confirmed her worst nightmare.

  There was just enough light for her to see her sister, her long straight blond hair bunched up on one side of her head , hands on her hips, staring open-mouthed and obviously surprised at the sight of Gabe Alexander with Katy.

  "I can't believe this! You and Gabe?" Her voice was scratchy, her eyes heavy from sleep.

  Gabe held onto his head and watched the two sisters out of bleary eyes. "Katy, you got any whiskey?"

  "Shut up, Gabe. Leila, please, let's take this downstairs and I promise, I'll tell you everything."

  Inside her boat, she reached into her fridge and tossed Gabe a package of frozen peas. "Use this on your head and no to the whiskey. I need you clear-headed."

  He gingerly held the package of peas to the back of his head. "Gonna be a lump the size of Kansas."

  Leila glanced from one to the other. "I thought I'd come down and give you a nice surprise. Poor thing, all alone in Mexico, so down on yourself at losing David to Karen Wilke. But I see I was off base—again."