by Kathy Macias
Gladys looked surprised. “Because it’s up to Him to get me there. Didn’t you know that?” She frowned and shook her head. “Only God can get us home safe, you know.”
A vision of Julia popped into Marie’s mind, and for a brief moment she chastised herself for having forgotten about her daughter’s situation. And then she focused on Gladys once again. What had she said? Only God can get us home safe. Oh, how true that was, and how desperately she needed to hang on to that great truth right now! And to think she’d been reminded of it by a woman who had no earthly home of her own.
Thank You, Lord, she prayed silently. Out loud she said, “Thank you for that, Gladys. God has used you to encourage me today.”
Gladys beamed and went back to eating her cake and humming.
CHAPTER 27
IT SEEMED THAT FRANK AND RAMON had driven Frank’s old Jeep up and down every residential street in San Cristobal, though Ramon knew that wasn’t even close to the case. But they’d been at for hours, with no promising leads.
“We’ve spotted five Blazers today,” Frank commented, his eyes still on the road ahead. “Only one of them was even close to white, and it’s up on jacks, so I doubt it’s been driven in ages. Even if we come across the right one, how will we know?”
Ramon had wondered the same thing countless times, but each time he had come to the same conclusion. “God would let us know,” he said, scanning the dirt yards in one of the older neighborhoods where they’d learned at least some drug usage and gang activity were present.
“They probably wouldn’t leave the vehicle outside for anyone to see,” Frank said.
Ramon had thought of that too. “God knows,” he said. It was the only answer he had.
As the sun eased down to the western horizon, Ramon fought the sense that his heart and his hope were sinking with it. He knew they couldn’t stay out searching all night, but they couldn’t give up yet.
“You know we’re going to have to get back soon.”
Frank had such a way of stating the obvious, and yet doing so as gently as possible. It didn’t lessen the pain, but at least Ramon knew that Frank felt nearly as badly about giving up the search as he did.
“I know.” Ramon sighed. “I was so sure we would find something today.”
“In God’s time,” Frank said.
Ramon cut his eyes toward his companion and nodded. “Sí. In God’s time.” He took a deep breath. “One more hour?”
“Sure. One more hour. Then we head back.” Frank extended a hand to his friend’s shoulder. “That doesn’t mean we’re giving up. We can come back, you know.”
The three-day limit until Julia’s exorbitant ransom was due loomed in Ramon’s thoughts. If they didn’t find her tonight, they would have only one day left.
A COLD FOG HAD MOVED IN OVERNIGHT, and though Julia couldn’t see it, her teeth chattered as she shivered on the chair, trying not to give up all hope. The memory of her white shawl, tucked inside the shopping bag she’d dropped on the jungle floor, teased her with thoughts of soft warmth and comfort. Would she ever be comfortable again? How much longer could she survive tied to a chair, being given food and water in smaller doses now and receiving much rougher treatment from her captors?
She knew she had made a terrible mistake when she bit Hernando’s lip. He had been furious with her ever since, slapping her more than once and screaming at her to shut up each time she broke down and cried. But what else could she have done? The thought of that filthy, evil man kissing her had all but caused her to vomit. She tried not to think of how much worse it would be if he carried out his threats to rape her, though he hadn’t used that term.
It’s what he means. He says things like, “We will have fun together” and “We will finally be able to be alone, away from the others.” It was an image she simply could not allow herself to picture in her mind. She would rather be dead. Yes, she had come to that conclusion. Death would be preferable to yielding her body to such a vile man who no doubt would kill her when he was through anyway.
I might still have a chance if there were any way at all that my family could somehow get the ransom. But a million dollars? They couldn’t come up with a fraction of that, at least not on such short notice.
Three days. Has it been that long yet? Am I almost out of time?
Tears threatened again, but she refused to let them come. Hernando and one of his companions were snoring, and she didn’t want to risk another angry confrontation. At least while they slept, the icy room was relatively peaceful. She wished she too could drift off to sleep and forget about her plight . . . at least for a little while.
I know the plans I have for you . . .
The words washed over her like warm honey, reviving the tiny spark of hope that still lingered in her otherwise broken heart.
HERNANDO WAS FURIOUS. He woke up angry on Monday morning, and he grew angrier as the day progressed. He would never forgive that woman for hurting him the way she did. Who did she think she was? She would learn soon enough, regardless of how things went today regarding the ransom.
It was cold this morning, with the mist not burning off as it usually did after the sun rose. He slipped on a jacket as he went outside to make the call on his disposable cellular phone. It was important that his calls were untraceable, and he also wanted privacy while he connected with the woman’s family. He was glad they had fairly reliable phone service here in San Cristobal, at least most of the time.
He dialed and was pleased that the call went through on the first try. A man answered this time, and it was obvious he was trying to seem calm and confident, but Hernando knew he had to be shaking inside.
“Do you have the money?” Hernando demanded.
After a slight pause, the man answered. “We will have . . . some of it . . . in a couple of hours. We’re about to go to the bank to pick it up.”
Exactly what Hernando had expected . . . but not acceptable. He added a threatening tone to his voice. “I told you a million dollars—all of it, not some of it. The señora is your daughter, no?”
Another pause. This time the man’s words betrayed his anxiety. “Yes. Please don’t hurt her.”
Hernando laughed. “Oh, I’ve already hurt her, and I will hurt her a lot more now that I know you don’t care enough to send the money for her freedom.”
“No!” The man was nearly crying now. “No, please, I’m trying to get as much as possible. But . . . a million dollars. It’s too much. We aren’t rich people.”
“You have a home.”
“Yes. And we can borrow money against it, but not a million dollars. And it takes time—”
Hernando interrupted him. “You are out of time, señor. I told you, three days.”
“Please,” the man sobbed. “Please, we’ll give you what we have now and get more . . .”
“And how much do you have to send me now?”
The man’s voice dropped, and Hernando had to strain to hear him. “I don’t know yet, but . . . at least twenty thousand, maybe more if the bank will loan it to me.”
“Twenty thousand!” Hernando exploded. “Twenty thousand dollars? That’s all your daughter’s life is worth to you?”
“No! No, she is worth everything. But . . . we just don’t have any more . . . not yet. But we can get more. We just need more time.”
“More time for what? To bring in the authorities? You know what will happen if you do that. I told you, remember? Do you want your daughter’s head returned to you in a box?”
The man was weeping now. “No. Oh, please, no. Don’t kill her. We will send you more as soon as we can, and we won’t notify the authorities. I promise!”
“How much?” Hernando demanded. “And how soon can you get it to me?”
“Fifty thousand. Maybe more.” He heard the man take a ragged breath. “We could have it in a week, maybe less.”
Hernando laughed. “I ask for a million, and you offer me fifty thousand? This is a joke—an insult. Do you really expect m
e to let her go for fifty thousand dollars?”
“Please,” the man begged. “I will get more if I can. I won’t know how much until I talk to them at the bank this morning.”
Hernando smirked, enjoying the game he played with this man, even though he was angry that he hadn’t offered more. “I will give you the instructions to send the twenty thousand now, and then you have one week—one week, no more—to send at least twenty times that much. Do you understand? If I don’t have that money one week from today, your daughter will come home to you in pieces. And if you even think about doing something stupid like calling the authorities, you won’t even get that much of her back. Comprende?”
Still sobbing, the man managed to agree and take down the instructions. Then, when he begged to speak to his daughter, Hernando ended the call.
“Twenty thousand dollars!” He spit on the ground as he returned to the shed. “From now on I will treat her as the worthless daughter she is. She needs a lesson anyway. I will keep my promise to El Toro for now and not be alone with her, but he never said I couldn’t punish her. Now she will see what happens when I am insulted and my patience runs out.”
CHAPTER 28
JULIA STILL SHIVERED, though more now from fear than from the lingering cold. She’d heard Hernando storm into the building, cursing as he told his companion that her family had come up with only twenty thousand dollars, though they’d offered more if they could have more time.
Despair weighed on her, driving out any shred of hope she might have left. What would happen to her now? Already they treated her worse than when she’d first arrived. It had been hours now since they’d brought her anything to eat, or even given her a sip of water. What else could they possibly do to her? She shuddered as her imagination went into overdrive.
“So what are you going to do?” the other man asked in response to Hernando’s tirade. “What will you tell El Toro?”
Hernando cursed again. “I will tell him they sent a down payment, with more to come. If he says to let her live, I will do so. If not, I will happily chop her up into pieces and send her home to her family.”
“Do not be hasty, amigo,” the man said. “I have heard the curanderos might pay for someone like her.”
Julia frowned. She had heard of the curanderos and knew they were somewhat like spiritual gurus to the Mayans—witch doctors, even. But why would they pay a ransom for her?
“You believe they still do those human sacrifice things?” Hernando asked, his tone skeptical.
“Why not? Many of the locals talk about it. What if it’s true?”
Human sacrifices? The words rang in Julia’s ears, and she felt lightheaded.
Hernando sounded a bit more positive this time. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to find out. Even if we don’t get that much from her family, we might be able to sell her after that. All right. It shouldn’t be that hard to find some of those curanderos. Put the word out on the street, and let’s see if we get a response.” He laughed, and she heard him approach.
“Do you hear that, señora?” His mouth was near her ear again. “A human sacrifice. What do you think of that? First we will get as much money from your family as we can. Then I will show you what a real man can do to your body. And finally, we will sell you to a witch doctor and see what they can do to get rid of you once and for all. Then we will see if you regret the way you treated me. I do not forget, cara. You will pay for what you did.”
The tears came then, and Julia couldn’t stop them. But even as she wept into her blindfold, Hernando jerked the gag from her mouth. “Cry, señora,” he hissed. “Weep and wail all you want. I no longer care. In fact, I might very much enjoy listening to you beg. But remember, if you make too much noise you might make Bruno mad. And trust me, preciosa, you do not want to do that. Bruno is not nearly as nice as I am.”
He laughed again, even as Bruno growled at the mention of his name. Julia, though grateful to have the gag removed, resolved to cry silently. She didn’t want to take any chances of angering Bruno.
SCHOOL HAD BEEN CANCELED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE, and Frank and Padre Ramon sat together at the Barneses’ kitchen table on Monday evening, discussing another trip into San Cristobal. Their first two trips there, searching for the white Blazer, had proved fruitless, but Ramon could not let the issue go.
“We have to try again,” he insisted. “The kidnappers have called the Lawsons again, and now they know there will be no million dollars. Maybe Señora Bennington’s father bought her more time, but maybe he did not. We might be her only hope.”
Frank shook his head and buried it in his hands. “I don’t know,” he groaned. “We found nothing yesterday and nothing today. What makes you think it will be any different tomorrow?” He lifted his head. “I’m beginning to think the Lawsons made a mistake not contacting the authorities in the States. I know the kidnappers threatened to kill Julia if they did, but they may very well do so anyway.”
Ramon sighed. “True. But what are the chances the authorities in either country will find her in time? You know the local law enforcement here won’t even talk to them or lift a finger to help. I think we have a better chance of finding her ourselves.”
Carolyn approached the table then and poured a fresh cup of coffee for each of them. “Are either of you hungry?” she asked.
“Not really,” Frank answered.
Ramon shook his head. “No, gracias.”
Carolyn nodded, returned the coffee pot to the stove, and left the room.
“Please,” Ramon begged, his voice cracking. “One more time. Tomorrow, first thing in the morning.”
Frank lifted his head, and their eyes met. At last he nodded. “One more time. In the morning.”
ITZEL WAS VERY SAD, not only because her teacher was missing but because she could no longer go to school. When her abuela suggested they go to the marketplace that morning and even promised her a special treat, the girl could not get excited.
The mist that had lingered most of the previous day was gone this morning, and even with her heavy heart, Itzel enjoyed the warm sunshine as they walked the short distance to do their shopping. She had spotted her friend as they walked from their home, and once again the girl had invited her to come and play with her later. Her abuela had encouraged her to accept the invitation, but Itzel had declined. She did not feel like playing when her heart was so heavy.
As they made their way through the marketplace, Itzel noticed two of the local curanderas talking together behind one of the stalls. She knew one of them was a friend of her abuela’s, so she wasn’t surprised when her abuela told her to wait while she went to speak with them.
Itzel obeyed, as she always did, but she watched the lively conversation. She couldn’t hear all that was said, but the two women, dressed in their bright colors and wearing their tiny mirrors around their necks to ward off evil spirits, seemed pleased that Itzel’s grandmother had joined them.
Finally the conversation came to an end, and Abuela returned. As they finished their shopping and went home, Itzel noticed that her abuela was quieter than usual. She even forgot to get Itzel the treat she had promised. But the girl didn’t mention it, as she wasn’t especially hungry anyway.
CHAPTER 29
THE GATE TO THE COMPOUND WAS OPEN, and Ramon and Frank were in the Jeep and about to head out on Wednesday morning when once again the girl named Itzel and her grandmother showed up. The men climbed out of the vehicle and motioned them to come through the gate. In moments they had ushered them into the Barneses’ home, and soon they all sat around the kitchen table. This time the old woman declined Carolyn Barnes’s offer of tea.
Knowing the local custom that required courtesy in such a situation, Ramon realized the woman’s reason for coming was urgent. He leaned forward, praying silently, as all eyes fell on the old woman.
“There is . . . talk,” she said, her eyes downcast as she spoke. Itzel followed suit, keeping her eyes on the table in front of her and her hand
s folded in her lap.
“What sort of talk, señora?” Frank prodded.
“On the street. Among the curanderas.” She lifted her head briefly, her eyes flitting back and forth over the table’s other occupants. Then she dropped them again. “They say . . . there is an Americana with . . . red hair. Someone from San Cristobal is trying to sell her for . . .” Her voice trailed off, and Ramon saw her shoulders twitch. “For a sacrifice.”
Carolyn Barnes gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. She turned to her husband, as if waiting for him to say it was impossible. But he didn’t. He simply stared at the woman, his eyes wide.
At last Ramon spoke. “Do you think it is true? Would that really happen?”
The old woman shrugged. “I cannot say. Some believe that still happens. The curanderas I talked with, they say they know people . . .”
Once again her voice trailed off, and the only sound Ramon heard was his own heart pounding in his ears. Determined to act on this new information, he said to Frank, “All the more reason we must find her. Now. Today. We cannot wait another minute.”
“But how?” Frank said. “How are we going to find her in such a big town? We’ve driven around some of the neighborhoods already, but there are so many more.”
“We will pray,” Ramon insisted. “Surely God will lead us to her.”
“Frank, Ramon is right,” Carolyn insisted, laying her hand on her husband’s arm. “We must pray first, and then you have to try to find her. What else can we do?”
Frank shook his head. “I know you’re right. I know we have to try. But it seems so impossible. All we know is to look for an old white Blazer. What if it’s parked inside a garage somewhere? We’ll never find her then.”
After another brief silence, the abuela spoke again. “I can help. The curanderas told me the name of the street.”
BY WEDNESDAY MORNING, Julia’s discomfort had turned to agony; her muscles screamed from being tied to the chair for so long. She had no idea how long it had been since they’d fed her, but the hunger didn’t bother her nearly as much as the thirst. On the positive side, the men had not replaced the gag after Hernando removed it and told her to go ahead and cry. Though she continued to keep her sobs as silent as possible, she was grateful the gag was finally gone. But she desperately needed to use the bucket to relieve herself.