Blogger Bundle Volume I: Dear Author Selects Unusual Heroines

by Jo Leigh, Kathleen O'Reilly, Kay David

  She lay down on the bed, the phone still at her ear. “I understand.”

  “This won’t change the custody situation,” he warned. “Don’t even think about calling the judge.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She told the truth; the judge had been in the family’s pocket for a hundred years. Until she found a lawyer more powerful than any of them, the judge would never rule against the Toussaints.

  “All right, then. Just so everything’s clear.” He paused, his cruel work done, his drawl now more pronounced. “You doin’ all right down there, Emma Lou? How’s business at your bank?”

  He didn’t give a damn about her business, and both of them knew it. In fact, he’d done all he could to keep her from finding a job, period. Bolivia had been her last resort. He was gloating.

  Emma ignored his question. She couldn’t hang up without hearing about her children, though. She’d talk to them tomorrow, but she couldn’t be this close without hearing more. She hated herself for doing it, but she begged, anyway. “Tell me about the children, Todd. Please.”

  She’d been a good girl, she knew, so he softened. She could picture him leaning back in his chair and swiveling it to look out the window of his study. She knew that was what he’d done, because she could hear the chair groan, then squeak. She knew what he was looking at, too. The backyard with the pool and the swing and the magnolia trees so perfectly trimmed.

  His voice turned expansive. “Sarah’s been givin’ us hell this week. She’s definitely in the terrible twos and goin’ on to the intolerable threes. She tried to paint a picture for my mother, which would have been okay, but she used Sparky for a brush and a wall for the canvas. Took Nana three days to get the place repainted, and the damned dog still has a pink tail. Can’t even take him huntin’.”

  “And Jake?”

  “He had soccer tryouts this week. Did great. Loves the academy, but I guess you know all ’bout that.”

  Her son had had his first day of school in September, and the Sunday before he’d gone had been one of the hardest calls for Emma to get through. He’d been so excited. She’d had to hide her tears.

  “How did his math test go?”

  “He got an A.” Todd paused, then, “He still likes his reading best, though. His teacher called me Monday and said she’d had to fuss at him for readin’ in class and not payin’ attention. Seems like he always has his nose in a book—just like you used to.”

  Emma couldn’t reply. Her throat had closed. For just one heartbeat, she let the pure feeling of misery engulf her, then she fought it. She wouldn’t give Todd the satisfaction of knowing how deeply his words ripped into her. “That’s good to hear,” she said thickly. “I’m glad he’s enjoying his schoolwork. He doesn’t always tell me much about it.”

  “Yeah, well…” Todd said. “You take care now, and the children will be talkin’ to you tomorrow.”

  She stayed on the bed for another few seconds with the phone still in her hand and the line buzzing in her ear. She hoped the connection was still there. The wasted long-distance time would cost Todd at least some of his precious dollars and the adorable Miss Threadgill—she had to be adorable, of course—some future earnings, as well.

  Finally, after a few more minutes, there was nothing else for Emma to do but get up and go on. That was how she existed, day by day, hour by hour. She put her past behind her and continued, the feel of her children’s bodies when she hugged them, the sweet smell of their skin and the touch of their lips against her cheek only a memory. She hung up the phone, rose to her feet and slipped on her shoes, then walked woodenly toward the hallway and started down the stairs.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  RAUL OPENED the door of his black SUV, helped Emma climb in, then closed the door behind her. She’d greeted him at her front door, purse and jacket in hand, ready to go. He’d hoped for an invitation to step inside, but she hadn’t offered one.

  Quiet and somber, she obviously had something on her mind, and like always, he assumed the worst. William Kelman. Had the man already approached her? Raul wanted to ask, but she wasn’t likely to tell him the truth at this point. She didn’t know him well enough. Yet. Whatever was bothering her, she seemed determined to put it behind her as soon as they reached the road leading out of town.

  “Do you know this highway?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I haven’t been here long enough to know any of them.”

  “Then you’re in for a treat. This isn’t like anything you’ve seen in the States.”

  Before long, he understood what she meant. It was Saturday evening, and the route was packed—mainly buses filled to the top with people and animals, but a few cars and motorbikes puttered along, too. The shoulders of the roadway told the real story, though. Every hundred yards or so, there were animals hobbled and staked out, mainly cattle, but some goats, as well. Fences were too expensive, Emma explained, so the farmers kept their livestock where everyone could see. This marked their property lines and kept the well-tended animals in hand.

  The huts on the side of the road didn’t share the cattle’s apparent prosperity. Made of mud bricks and thatched roofs, most of the houses had no electricity or running water, and there were very few vehicles in sight. One or two had carts tied up in front, but for those at the very bottom, even a cart was unaffordable. Raul had to stop the SUV at one point to allow a man, pulling a pig on a rope, to trudge across the road.

  The farther out of town they drove, the less populated the area became. Bamboo plants began to replace the simple dwellings, and everywhere he looked, Raul saw green, in particular orange and lemon trees, their fruit-laden limbs bent to the ground. Even the air had a junglelike smell. They were going up, he realized, gaining elevation as they left the valley behind.

  “It’s a beautiful country, isn’t it?”

  Emma’s voice sounded almost wistful. He glanced at her. “It is nice,” he agreed, “but not the kind of place I would expect to meet someone like you.”

  “Why not?” Her voice held surprise.

  “For one thing, you’re too smart,” he said bluntly, “and for another thing, you’re too ambitious.”

  “How do you know I’m either of those things?”

  “Easy. You wouldn’t be at the level you are in the bank if you weren’t ambitious, and if you weren’t smart…you wouldn’t be that ambitious.”

  He continued speaking when she didn’t seem to know how to reply. “So explain how you got here,” he said, softening his voice. “There must be a story there, right?”

  She stiffened visibly, her fingers tightening on the armrest. “You really don’t want to hear it,” she answered.

  “It doesn’t take much to entertain me. Go ahead.”

  She sat quietly for a few minutes and he wondered how much she would tell him. “I came here from New Orleans,” she said finally, “after a nasty divorce.”

  “It must have been pretty bad to make you come this far.”

  “It was.”

  He waited for more, but none came. He decided to push her. “Do you have any kids?”

  “No,” she lied, looking out the window away from him. “No children.”

  Her deception surprised him, even though he should have expected it. “Just as well,” he said lightly. “Less to worry about, right?”

  She turned to face him. Her skin glowed in the filtered light of the jungle around them. “So you have no children?”

  He shook his head, putting aside the dreams he’d had before as if they’d meant nothing. “No. No kids, no ex-wife, no ex-anything. I’m free as they come.”

  “You sound as if you like it that way.”

  He slowed to avoid a goat crossing the road.

  “It’s all I’ve ever known. I guess I must.”

  They said nothing more until he saw the club’s sign ahead. Slowing the truck, he pulled into the drive and eased over a grassy area that served as a parking lot. Expensive vehicles filled the space, all of them new and sh
iny. In a country where few could afford their own transportation, the excess stood out.

  Automatically Raul began to search the grounds with his eyes, even before he and Emma reached the club’s door. He saw no sign of Kelman, but there was plenty else to see. Under the trees, to the right of the doorway, was a huge cage, at least twenty feet high and fifty feet long. All Raul could see in it were blurs of frantic movement. Emma explained as she saw his puzzlement.

  “That’s where the monkeys live. The owner of the club loves animals. Everywhere you go, you’ll see something, so watch out.” She raised her eyebrows in a mock warning and smiled. “Especially for the parrots. They like to swoop in and take a bite off your plate when you aren’t looking.”

  Again he had the thought that she looked different when she smiled. Younger, more carefree. The contrast of this to her eyes, where a deep sadness stayed, made her even more intriguing.

  Raul shut down the part of his brain that responded to her pull. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll be careful.”

  They entered the club under a walkway of thatched material, the heavy vegetation close and humid. From the fronds of the nearby palms to the brilliant plumage of the raucous parrots, the jungle seemed to close around them. Raul almost expected to see a wildcat or an anaconda as they walked into the main area of the club. A huge open room, the place was packed with expensively dressed men and women. They were all holding drinks and talking. Looking over the crowd, Raul decided his expectations had indeed been met. They wore the same predatory look as the jungle animals. Emma waded into the crowd with determination, and Raul followed.

  They’d been there an hour when Raul saw him.

  With a sense of déjà vu, he watched as Kelman worked the room on the opposite side. Just as he had that first night at the Taminaca Bar, he was talking to everyone and acting friendly, but the man’s eyes searched the crowd continually. Raul followed his gaze until it stopped. Once again, it landed on Emma. They’d made the circuit of the room together, Emma introducing him to everyone. When she’d stopped to talk business with someone, he’d stepped away to give them some privacy, wandering to the other side of the crush. Now, as he looked on, she walked through a set of French doors to a terrace. Raul felt a flare of satisfaction, but it was followed by hesitation. Everything was falling into place exactly as he’d imagined, except for one troublesome exception.

  He hadn’t counted on liking Emma Toussaint.

  AROUND THE CORNER from the French doors, Emma walked to the nearest planter and dumped her glass of wine into it. She set the flute on the railing that edged the area, then turned around quickly, her dress brushing the yellow hibiscus blossoms.

  She needed to go back inside and work the crowd, but the fresh air felt wonderful and she paused to breath it in. The crush of the crowd had been getting to her, or maybe, she thought belatedly, it wasn’t the crowd, but someone in particular. Raul.

  His questions in the car had not been unexpected, but the interest with which he’d asked them had been. Despite all she’d heard and suspected, Raul Santos appeared to be a thoughtful person. There was a patina of something hard and impenetrable on the surface, but underneath, she sensed a man who truly cared, a man who was actually interested in her as an individual. At least, his questions had reflected that.

  They’d also delivered a fresh level of pain, coming on the heels of Todd’s announcement. Most of the time she simply avoided the answer, but with Raul, she’d flat-out lied, told him she didn’t even have children. She didn’t want him getting any closer to her, and in her mind, anyone who knew her past knew her. At least she’d learned something about him in return. He didn’t like children, and he didn’t like entanglements.

  Somewhat handy, she guessed, if you tended to disappear for five years at a time. The thought reminded her of Leon’s wild guess that Raul had been in prison. He might be right, but somehow she couldn’t reconcile that idea with the man she was getting to know. Did felons give money to beggars and donate large sums to hospitals? Reina had told her about Raul’s check to the Sisters. Emma looked out over the valley and shook her head. The contrast intrigued her, despite herself.

  She started back inside, but as she neared the corner, a loud voice off to one side halted her progress. She told herself it was none of her business and continued on, then she recognized the cool timbre of Raul’s voice as he responded to the other person. She tried to distinguish the words, but the mountain breeze snatched them away.

  Her curiosity getting the better of her, Emma edged forward. All at once, she realized she didn’t need to get any closer. She knew exactly who Raul was speaking to; the unmistakable pungency of cigar smoke drifted to her in a haze of blue.

  Following the smoke came William Kelman’s voice. It broke the night’s quietness with undisguised anger. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t—”

  “I’m telling you you’re wrong, my friend.” In complete contrast to Kelman’s agitation, Raul chuckled. To Emma, the deep sound came across as something other than amusement.

  “I’m here for the same reasons you are,” Raul went on. “To make my fortune. Nothing more. I had no idea you were here. Why would you think otherwise?”

  Her surprise was quickly overtaken by confusion. They obviously knew each other, yet Kelman had asked her about Raul when they’d been having dinner. Still hidden, she moved a step closer.

  “You’re saying your being here is purely coincidental?” Kelman’s voice remained uptight, angry.

  “What else could it be?”

  “You know exactly what else it could be, Santos. You followed me. You’re on some damned revenge kick, aren’t you?”

  “Revenge kick?” Raul stopped, the puzzlement in his voice clearing as he spoke again. “Do you mean Denise? That’s over and done with, Kelman. Besides, why would I want revenge? As I remember it, the woman left you for me. Isn’t that what happened?”

  Silence, tenser than the words they’d just exchanged, filled the sudden void, and Emma half expected to hear the sound of a fist against a jaw. Her mouth went dry, her throat closing. It seemed preposterous that the two men would travel so far to fight over a woman, but stranger things had happened.

  Kelman spoke first. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled.

  “Then why don’t you inform me? Tell me what really happened.” The sudden coldness—and the quick change—in Raul’s words sent a shiver through Emma. It would have been less frightening if he had hit Kelman. “Tell me what I’ve been missing all these years, Kelman. You do know I missed a few, don’t you?”

  Another pause, then Kelman said heatedly, “I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing, Santos, but I don’t want any part of it. I had nothing to do with your troubles. You brought them all on yourself. Now get the hell out of my way.” The pitch of his voice suddenly changed, and too late Emma realized why. He was heading straight for the corner where she stood.

  She had a split second to think about it, no more. With a bravery she didn’t feel, Emma straightened her shoulders and took a single step forward.

  And crashed into William Kelman’s chest.

  “OH, MY!”

  “What the hell?”

  As they collided, Emma and Kelman spoke at the same time, her voice apologetic, his still angry from the encounter with Raul.

  “Mr. Kelman, I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t see you. Please forgive my clumsiness.”

  Emma’s pretty words were exactly what Raul would have expected to hear, but her expression, as she glanced over at him, was something else entirely. She’d overheard their conversation, he realized, and was wondering just what was going on. He stepped out of the shadows where he’d been and moved to her side.

  He touched her briefly, solicitously, on the elbow. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, yes…I’m fine.” Glancing back to Kelman, she tilted her head. “I see you two have met.”

  Kelman shot an angry look in Raul’s direction. “Yes,
we have.”

  Raul spoke easily. “Mr. Kelman and I go back quite a way, Emma. We’re old friends.”

  Emma looked at Kelman with a puzzled expression. Before she could say more, he smoothed a hand over the front of his jacket and inclined his head. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the party.”

  Emma nodded and stepped aside as Kelman brushed past her and disappeared into the room behind them. When she turned back and looked at Raul, her eyes were filled with questions. “He asked me the other night if I knew you. I just assumed you were strangers. What on earth was that about?”

  “Nothing,” Raul said. “Absolutely nothing.” Taking her elbow in his, he began to walk along the edge of the terrace. Sooner or later, Raul had expected a confrontation, and it didn’t really bother him. Whatever Kelman’s plans were, he wouldn’t risk them to stop and send Raul on his way.

  Raul hadn’t been as prepared as he would have liked, though, and Emma’s overhearing the exchange complicated things even more. He had to distract her and quickly.

  Within minutes, he had her away from the noise and confusion of the party. They stopped on the lowest level of the stone terrace and looked out over the valley. It was almost dark, and the low-lying hills were slipping into the shadows. Without the benefit of light to mark the boundary, the jungle vista seemed endless.

  Before he could even begin to distract her from her questions, she turned to him in the darkness. “How do you know Kelman?” she asked. “What’s going on between you two?”

  He thought about not answering, but that would only make her more suspicious. He had to tell her something. “We knew each other a long time ago,” he answered carefully. “He’s a former DEA agent. I was a attorney in Washington. It’s basically a small town—our paths crossed on occasion.”

  She looked slightly startled at his revelation of Kelman’s former job. “And you don’t like him,” she said.

  “Am I that easy to read?”

  “No, not at all.” She shook her head and confessed what her expression had already betrayed.