by Kathy Macias
Tears popped into Brittney’s eyes, but she nodded and followed her into the family room, where the TV blasted reruns of highlights from the major bowl games. It took a moment to get the men’s attention.
John frowned when he saw the two women standing side by side in the doorway. “What is it? What happened?”
Marie wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t had to say a thing before her husband recognized there was a problem. They had been married for decades, and there wasn’t much they didn’t know about one another.
“It’s Julia,” she said, this time snagging Tyler’s attention as well.
John reached for the remote and shut off the TV as Marie and Brittney went to the couch and sat down beside him. Tyler sat up straight in the adjacent recliner and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Is Mom OK? Did something happen to her?”
Marie swallowed. “I don’t know. She’s . . . missing.”
Tyler was the first to react. “Missing?” He jumped to his feet. “How can she be missing? I thought she lived and worked in a walled compound. How can someone go missing in a place like that?”
John reached up and laid a hand on Tyler’s arm. “Take it easy, son. I’m sure there’s more to the story.” Tyler waited quietly then, but he did not retake his seat.
“Not much more,” Marie admitted. “It seems they had all warned Julia many times never to leave the compound alone, but they believe that’s what she must have done. They found her shopping bag full of items from the marketplace, so apparently she decided to go to town and do a little shopping.”
“Shopping?” This time it was John who reacted. “What in the world kind of shopping could be so urgent that she’d leave the safety of the compound and go out into that heathen environment on her own? What could she have been thinking?” He squinted at his wife then. “And just where did they find this shopping bag?”
Marie shook her head slightly, knowing the answer would only make the situation worse. But she had to tell them. They deserved to know. “It was . . . just inside the rain forest, not far from the compound. Frank and Carolyn believe she must have been on her way back from town when she decided to stop and check out some plants or flowers or something.”
Silence hung in the air. At last Tyler broke it. “She went into the jungle . . . alone?” His dark eyes watered, and Marie could tell he was on the edge of breaking down. “So what happened to her? Why would she leave her shopping bag behind, unless . . .”
His voice trailed off as he gave words to the question that no doubt danced through all their minds. Why would she leave her shopping bag behind, indeed? It certainly couldn’t have been of her own free will. Carolyn had told her there were no signs of blood in the area, which they imagined there would be if Julia had been attacked by an animal. Besides, the animals seldom came that close to the edge of the forest, preferring to stay hidden within its familiar depths.
But if not an animal, then what?
“So what about the police?” Brittney asked, brushing away tears as she looked from one grandparent to the other. “What do they think happened?”
Marie shot up a silent prayer as she handed out yet one more piece of this frightening puzzle. “Basically there are no police in San Juan Chamula—at least not any that extend their efforts to what they consider strangers or intruders to their way of life. The town is made up primarily of people of Mayan ancestry, and they greatly resent anyone they see as threatening what’s left of their old way of life. Julia would . . .” She swallowed a sob. “She would definitely fit into that category.”
Tyler’s face reddened. “So they’re doing nothing? No one’s trying to find Mom?”
“The Barneses are, of course, and the pastor from the compound. They’ve been searching for her most of the afternoon, but there’s a lot of ground to cover and they had to come back for flashlights so they could continue looking in the dark.” Marie knew even as she spoke the words that what should be an assurance only deepened their despair. If they hadn’t found her by now, what were the chances they ever would?
“I knew it,” Tyler exploded, beginning to pace the length of the room. “I knew we shouldn’t have let her go.” He glared at Brittney. “I told you, Britt! First we lose Dad, and now Mom. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe any of it.” He raked his hand through his dark hair, and John got up to approach him.
“Tyler, none of us wanted her to go, but it was her decision. Now we stick together and pray for her safety. It’s the only thing we can do, son.”
He tried to gather the boy into his arms, but Tyler pulled away. “Pray? Are you kidding me? Why would I ask God for a favor when all He’s done for me lately is take away people I love?” He shook his head. “No way. If you all want to pray, fine. But count me out.” His gaze moved from one to the other before coming to rest on his grandfather. “I think we need to go down there. Now. Tonight. As soon as we can. We’ve got to find her.”
Marie watched the myriad of emotions cross her husband’s face, and she knew he too wished he could be there, actively searching for his daughter. He also knew how pointless it would be. Better to trust that to people who knew the area and the local customs. Prayer truly was the only—as well as the best—course of action, even if neither grandchild joined them. Marie knew that she and her husband needed to begin praying immediately and not give up until they had an answer. And how she hoped it would be an answer they could live with!
JULIA MOANED. Every muscle in her body ached. The kidnapping itself had been terrifying enough, but then she’d been spirited away in a vehicle by some man she didn’t know and for what purpose she had no idea—and didn’t even want to imagine. She’d been tied, blindfolded, and gagged, and then after a bone-jostling ride had been trussed up even tighter while her captor apparently left the vehicle for some reason.
And then he’d come back, moved the vehicle a very short distance, and untied her just enough that he could lead her into some sort of room, where she’d then been tied to a rough, hard chair. At first she’d been confident that she and her captor were the only ones in the room, but soon she’d heard other voices—two or three of them, at least. And a dog, one with a growl that made her skin crawl.
Oh, why had she left the compound alone? Why hadn’t she waited until Carolyn could join her? There was no guarantee they wouldn’t both have been taken, but surely it would have been less likely. And, of course, her biggest mistake was venturing into the forest when she had been so close to La Paz. A few more steps and she would have been safe. Would that last mistake prove to be a fatal one?
She tried to focus on the conversation near her, all of it spoken in Spanish. The way they spoke assured her that they were most likely Mexican people and not Mayans, but that knowledge offered her little comfort. She already knew the Mayans didn’t like outsiders, but it was obvious that her non-Mayan captors did not have any sort of altruistic plans for her either.
“How did you find her?” one voice asked. “And how do you know her family has money?”
“El Toro, I . . . we . . . heard of her in Chamula—of two Americanas, actually. But when I went back to try to learn more about them and how I might find them, I spotted this one by herself. She fit the description of one of the two women perfectly, including her red hair. I heard she was from America and worked at the compound. We all know those Americanas come to places like this for only one reason—to feel better about themselves because they have so much while others have so little.” The man laughed, and the sound of it slithered up Julia’s spine. “She made it so easy for me when she went into the jungle alone.”
Deep-throated laughter from several others confirmed her suspicions that she was the only female in the room, and that there were at least three or four others, maybe more, all discussing her plight in a way that served only to reinforce her terror. Have I been kidnapped? Am I being held for ransom? She had wondered about that since the moment she’d been bound and tossed into the man’s vehicle. In some ways that was better tha
n the possibility that the man had taken her to rape or kill her, though even being held for ransom didn’t preclude those possibilities or guarantee her safe rescue. How much will they ask for? My parents don’t have much, and my children have nothing. Oh, if only they would remove this awful gag so I could explain that to them.
The one she’d heard referred to as El Toro spoke next. “Let us hope you are right, Hernando. You cannot afford another mistake, even a small one. El Jefe has instructed me to remind you of that fact. You would do well to get the information you need to send the ransom demand. How much will you ask, and how quickly do you think you can produce it?”
The voice belonging to the one she now identified as Hernando responded. “For a woman like her, so beautiful and so high-class? I think her family must be very rich and they will want her back quickly. Who wouldn’t? She is quite a prize, as you can see. I believe I will ask for a million dollars. And why not? She is worth it, no?”
“I hope you are right, Hernando,” the one called El Toro replied. “If they think half as highly of her as you seem to, they will pay up immediately. But a million might be more than we can hope for. If they offer half a million, take it, but not a dime less. Understand, amigo?”
El Toro’s tone dripped with sarcasm as he emphasized the word for friend. Julia quickly surmised that they were anything but. The revelation, however, was nearly lost in the horror of the amount she now knew would be asked for her ransom. Even if her parents mortgaged their home, she doubted they could raise that sort of money.
I’m going to die here—alone and without my family. I’ll never be able to tell them how much I love them or how sorry I am for causing them such pain.
Despite the blindfold and gag, tears formed in her eyes and she began to sob, not caring if she suffocated in the process. She was going to die anyway, so why not do it now, before these horrible men employed whatever means they might come up with to get her to give them her family’s contact information? If it came to that, she hoped she’d be able to hold out. Why drag her parents and children into this when there was absolutely nothing they could do to help her?
Once again the thought came that she should never have left the compound alone that morning, but it was too late for regrets. It seemed her fate was sealed.
CHAPTER 21
RAMON FELT AS IF HE WERE BATTLING the very powers of darkness as he swept his flashlight beam from left to right, and then back again, ever so slowly making his way across the patch of ground he’d agreed to search. The Barneses and a couple of others from the compound were searching their own areas, but all had agreed to stay within shouting distance of one another.
“Julia!”
“Señora Bennington!”
Calls went out from someone in the group every few seconds, but so far without response. More than once tears had welled in Ramon’s eyes, but he quickly brushed them away. He had to focus on finding Señora Bennington; he would give vent to his emotions later.
Please, El Señor, please let her be all right. You know where she is, Lord. Keep her safe, and show us how to find her!
The padre imagined that the others in the group uttered similar prayers, either silently or aloud, as they searched, but he knew this was more personal for him. Not only did it bring back memories of the wife he lost in this very rain forest years ago, but it confronted his denial that he cared more for Julia Bennington than he wanted to admit.
I have no right, he reminded himself. True, we are both alone, having lost our spouses, but that does not put me in a position to court such a one as Señora Bennington. She is from a fine family in the United States; I am but a simple pastor without even a home to call my own. She is here to teach the children for one school year, nothing more. Even if we find her and she is all right, the best I can hope for is that she will stay and finish her teaching commitment and then go home. I will probably never hear from her again.
It occurred to him then that he had used the word if in regard to finding Julia Bennington alive and well. He’d known from the moment he’d heard of her disappearance that they might never find her again—or if they did, she might not be alive—but he was not yet ready to contemplate that possibility. He shoved it from his mind and resumed his search—and his prayers.
TYLER KNEW IT WAS POINTLESS TO TRY TO SLEEP, but he simply could not remain in the family room with the others once his grandparents sat down together, clasped hands, and began to pray. Even Brittney had joined in, though silently, with her head bowed. Tyler imagined his sister needed to be close to her grandparents and draw from whatever hope and comfort they found in praying to a God who probably didn’t even exist, let alone listen, but that was her choice. Personally, he would have no part of it. He might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t a hypocrite.
One thing I am, he thought, as he lay in the dark, staring at a nearly invisible ceiling, is mad. Just plain mad! I told Mom not to go. I practically begged her! But she wouldn’t listen. Grandma and Grandpa didn’t like it either, but they let her do it. And Brittney defended her so-called right to make her own decisions. What right did Mom have to make a decision that could end like this? We’re impacted too. Shouldn’t we have had something to say about it?
The landline rang then, and he popped out of bed. Maybe they’d found her. Maybe his mother was safe after all.
Not even bothering to slip into his flip-flops, he charged out the door and down the stairs just in time to see his grandfather hang up the kitchen phone.
Tyler’s heart raced at the implications of such a short call. “Is she OK?” he demanded. “Did they find her?”
His grandfather turned, a look of sadness on his face that made him appear even older than usual. He shook his head. “Nothing. It wasn’t about your mom. Just a telemarketer.”
Tyler cursed, something he was careful never to do around his grandparents, but his grandpa didn’t reprimand him or even shoot him a disappointed look. He simply came over to him and held out his arms. Feeling much like the little boy who had spent countless hours in this man’s arms, Tyler accepted the offer. Enfolded in one another’s embrace, they stood in the kitchen and cried.
HERNANDO BREATHED A HUGE SIGH of relief when El Toro and the others returned to the house, leaving him alone at last with his attractive captive. He would be careful not to put his personal plans into action until he was sure El Toro was gone, but it wouldn’t hurt to start working on getting the information he needed to contact her family.
With Bruno on alert just inside the closed doorway, Hernando knelt down beside the red-haired woman. He could smell her fear, and he had no doubt the dog could as well. One brief command would set Bruno on her, and she wouldn’t have a chance. But that was not his purpose for this woman. Not only did he want to keep her alive so he could collect the ransom money and turn it over to El Jefe, hopefully reinstating him in the man’s good graces once again, but he wanted to enjoy her while he waited. She had no idea how lucky she was that these two factors were in play, or she wouldn’t have a prayer of survival.
“Are you comfortable, cara?” he whispered, adding the endearment for effect. She had responded to his commands in Spanish before, so he knew she understood him.
The woman didn’t answer, but she stopped her whimpering. Good! They had connected.
“I do not wish to hurt you, señora,” Hernando crooned, though he imagined he might before all this was over. “I just want to ask you some questions. Simple questions, really. Things you can answer with no problem. If you will do that, we will get along just fine, and soon you will be able to go back to the compound, where I know you wish you were right now.” He leaned closer to her ear. “Would you like that, señora?”
Trembling, she nodded.
“Good. Then we understand each other. Now, I am going to take your gag off so you can speak to me. You won’t do anything foolish, like screaming for help, will you?”
She shook her head no, her red curls bouncing slightly. He smiled at the sight, an
ticipating how those curls would feel when he grasped them in his hand. Trying to block out the thoughts that followed, he removed her gag, pleased to see that for a middle-aged woman, she still had full lips.
She didn’t say a word, though he noticed her tense up. Good! He would keep her off-balance, guessing what would come next, hoping for the best but anticipating the worst. Hernando loved being in charge.
“Very good, preciosa,” he whispered, adding another endearment. “You are doing very well. Now, let’s keep that up, shall we? We will start with a very simple question. What is your name? And remember, I know you are from the La Paz Compound, so I can find out from other resources if I need to, but why not keep it simple? There is no sense in upsetting me, right?” He leaned yet closer, so close that he felt her shiver when he spoke. “Some people say I’m not very nice when I get upset. I would hate for you to think badly of me.” He placed a hand on the back of her neck, squeezing just enough to make her uncomfortable. “So, señora, will you be a good girl and tell me what I want to know, or will we play games until I find out?”
CHAPTER 22
JULIA THOUGHT SHE’D NEVER BEEN so terrified in her entire life, not even when Tom had his heart attack. Her resolve to remain strong and give them no information evaporated the instant the horrible man laid his hand on her neck and began to squeeze. The pain wasn’t unbearable, but the size of his hand and the strength she felt convinced her that she had no chance against him. It seemed the advantages were all one-sided. Perhaps her only hope for survival—slim as it might be—was to buy some time and pray that somehow, someway she would be rescued.
By whom, she couldn’t imagine, but Itzel had seen her . . . hadn’t she? Yes, she had seen her, but did she recognize her? And even if she did, would she tell anyone? It was a fragile hope, at best, but Julia needed something to cling to.
Determined to be honest and forthright while revealing only what was necessary to keep from “upsetting” him, she opened her mouth and tried to speak. Her throat was dry, and her lips felt nearly numb from the tight gag she’d worn for several hours now, but she forced herself to speak. “Julia,” she croaked. “My name is Julia.”