RAMIREZ'S WOMAN

by Beverly Barton

  "If you wish, I will make them apologize to you."

  "Oh, Miguel, don't worry about what they said. It doesn't matter."

  "It matters to me. You are—" He halted for a moment, as if considering his words carefully. "You are important to me. While you are living in my house, you are under my protection."

  The corners of her mouth lifted as she shook her head. "Remember I am supposed to be your protector."

  "You are, querida, you are."

  * * *

  Juan had seriously considered having Carmen tell Seina that he could not see her today, that she should leave his office and never return. But he did not have the strength to turn her away. Despite what he kept telling her—that they should stop seeing each other—he lived for the stolen moments they shared. Just a glimpse of her, a word or two spoken between them, would sustain him for days.

  How could he have allowed himself to fall in love with a patient? And not just any patient, but with a woman who was betrothed to another man, a woman who was a member of the wealthy and powerful Fernandez family?

  The moment he opened the door to his private office, Seina jumped up from her chair and rushed into his arms, giving him no time to prepare himself. He wrapped his arms around her and held her trembling body.

  "Juan, my dearest, darling Juan."

  "What has happened?" he asked. "What is wrong? You are shivering."

  "I have left home," she told him. "I packed a bag and left. No matter what you say, I will not go back."

  "I don't understand. How could you—"

  She placed her hand over his mouth. "If you do not want me, if you cannot take me in, then I will make other arrangements. If necessary, I will stay with Gala when she gets out of the hospital."

  Juan grabbed Seina by the shoulders and shook her gently. "Stop jabbering nonsense and tell me what is going on."

  She jerked away from him, stomped her foot and shook her fists at him. "Humph! Have you not been listening to me? I have left my mother's house and I have no intention of ever returning."

  "You are giving up everything to be with me?" He stared at her, an incredulous feeling overwhelming him. "I cannot allow you to do that."

  "You do not understand, Juan." She planted her hands on her hips. "It is not your decision to make. It is mine. I refuse to live in the house of a woman who would force me to marry a man I do not love and with a brother who has become a stranger to me."

  "Seina … querida … what has come over you? You do not sound like yourself."

  "Good. I do not wish to sound like a frightened little girl any longer. I want to sound like a woman who knows her mind and has come to claim her man."

  "Claim her … do you mean me?"

  She marched over to him, grabbed his face between her palms and kissed him passionately. When he lost his breath completely, she released him and smiled. "I want you to make love to me, Juan Esteban. And I want you to marry me. I leave it up to you which you want to do first."

  He stared at her, his eyes bulging, his mouth agape.

  "But while you are thinking it over and deciding, I want you to take me to see Miguel. Right this minute. I have much to tell him. I must warn him about Diego."

  * * *

  Emilio approached Miguel while he was alone in the courtyard. Miguel had needed time alone to think, without any distractions. He knew what must be done, the only real choice he had, had ever had. If he could survive the upcoming days and weeks until he was elected president, he would then face his guilt and anguish. Others might die, as Carlos had died, their lives, as his, sacrificed for the greater good. And a part of Miguel would never completely forgive himself, but it was a burden that he must bear to save his country.

  "Miguel, may I speak to you?" Emilio asked.

  Keeping his back turned to his oldest and dearest friend, Miguel replied, "If you have news of Dolores, then I wish to hear it. Otherwise…"

  "I am deeply sorry," Emilio said. "Forgive me for the things I said to you, the disrespectful way I spoke about Señorita Blair. I spoke without thinking."

  "I accept your apology only if you will go to Jennifer and apologize to her, also."

  "I have already spoken with her and begged her forgiveness."

  Miguel turned and faced his friend. "I want no derision in my camp, no squabbles among my people. I need you, Emilio, to support me, to be loyal to me, to—"

  "Miguel, you must know that I would die for you, for the cause we both have fought for all our lives. I want to rid Mocorito of men like Hector Padilla once and for all."

  There should be no doubts in Miguel's mind, no uncertainty over the issue of trust. He would stake his life on this man's loyalty. But could he stake the future of the nation on his belief in Emilio?

  "Has Roberto left?" Miguel asked.

  "Yes, he stormed out of here very angry. But he will be back. You know what a temper he has. Once he has cooled off, he will return and apologize."

  "Yes, of course he will. We are all hot-headed Latins, are we not?" Miguel reached over and draped his arm around Emilio's shoulders. "We huff and shout and snort and puff out our manly chests in a show of strength. But Emilio, in the end, there can be only one leader, one man who must make the hard decisions and live with the choices he makes."

  Emilio nodded. "Yes, you are right. And we all know that you, Miguel, are that man. That leader."

  Ramona rushed out onto the patio, wiping her hands off on her white apron as she approached. "Señor Ramirez, you have guests."

  "Guests?" Miguel asked.

  "Yes. Dr. Esteban is here and he has brought a lady with him."

  "What lady?" Emilio questioned.

  "A very pretty young lady. He introduced her to Señorita Blair and they are sitting in the front parlor now, talking and waiting for you."

  "Damn it, woman, who did Juan bring with him?" Emilio glowered at Ramona.

  "Señorita Seina Fernandez."

  * * *

  Diego had two-dozen roses delivered to Gala Hernandez's hospital room and signed the card simply, Carlotta, Seina and Diego. His sister had been right about him caring little what happened to Gala. In truth, he did not care. But he also did not wish her harm, did not want her to die. Yes, he had seen her as only a tool, to use for whatever purposes that suited him. But it was not as if she was a respectable young lady, as if she was truly worthy of the friendship Seina bestowed upon her.

  As he drove along the boulevard leading to the presidential palace in the heart of Nava, he struggled with his conscience. A conscience that he had conveniently misplaced for quite some time.

  Was Seina right about him? Had he become a monster?

  No! He had not. He was only a man willing to bend the rules, to manipulate others, to use some unscrupulous methods to achieve the results he desired. Was he really so different from most men? His wealth and power gave him the means by which to exert influence over the politics in his country. His backing and the backing of other wealthy men such as he could practically ensure a candidate's success. But in recent years, since Miguel Ramirez had become the people's champion, the once weak Nationalist Party had tripled in size and now threatened the Federalist Party in a way his father's generation could never have imagined.

  What would dear papá think about his bastard son running for president? He would not have been able to back him publicly, but would he, in secret, have cheered Miguel on, even taken pride in his victory, if he won the election?

  But he will not win this election. Surely Ramirez must see that it is in the best interests of his people to withdraw his candidacy. Now that Ramirez's chauffeur had been killed.

  Diego shuddered at the thought of how the man had died. The newspaper had reported that he'd been beaten to death.

  Have you sunk so low that you now condone murder? he asked himself.

  Scare tactics were one thing, but murdering people was not something with which he wanted to be involved. When two people had been killed during the assassination attem
pt on Ramirez—an assassination attempt not designed to kill, only to frighten—Hector Padilla had sworn to Diego that the deaths of the two other men had been accidental. Now he wondered if Hector had lied to him.

  The guards at the palace knew Diego on sight and always opened the gates for him and spoke to him with respect. Today was no different, although Hector was not expecting him. He parked his car in the usual place, reserved for special visitors. As he did on most visits, he entered the palace through a side door to which he'd been given a key by President Padilla himself.

  Once inside the palace, facing the narrow corridor that led, the long way around, to the president's office, Diego removed his sunglasses and slipped them into the inside pocket of his sports coat. He ran into several lowly staff members, who either spoke or nodded. No one thought there was anything unusual about him being here today since he was a frequent visitor.

  When he neared the rear entrance to Hector's private office, which was kept locked and to which only Hector had a key, Diego paused as he saw the president open the door, search right and left, and then quickly usher three men into his office. What were General Blanco and Secretary of Defense, Arlo Gonzalez, doing going into Hector's office, along with the grandson of former dictator, Felipe Menendez?

  Slinking into a corner behind a large pillar, Diego hid from their view. Felipe Menendez's wife and children had been exiled from Mocorito after the dictator's execution many years ago. But ten years later, after they swore their allegiance to the new democracy, Menendez's son and daughter had been allowed to return. Felipe III, the old reprobate's only grandson, a wealthy playboy with whom Diego had attended private school, was an arrogant hothead, known for his radical political views.

  It was a well-known fact that Felipe Menendez III supported a small band of extremists who wanted the government returned to the old dictatorship.

  Why would Hector give such a man a private audience? Why meet with him at all? But an even better question would be, why had Hector included Menendez in what appeared to be a secret meeting with the country's two most powerful Federalists?

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  « ^ »

  Miguel had assured Emilio that Juan and Seina had come here today on a personal matter, not anything that would concern him. Since Miguel actually had no idea why Juan had brought his half-sister to his home, he had lied to Emilio, who had excused himself saying he had business to attend to at campaign headquarters. But it had been obvious that his feelings were hurt because he had not been invited to stay. Miguel wondered if the rift his own distrust had created between them could ever be mended completely. What if, when the traitor's identity was discovered, it turned out not to be Emilio, as Miguel felt certain would happen? Could his oldest and dearest friend ever understand why he had shut him out? And would Dolores ever forgive him?

  When Miguel entered the living room, Juan rose to his feet, a nervous look in his eyes. "Seina has left her mother's home. She will not be returning."

  Miguel simply nodded, puzzled by Seina Fernandez's unexpected appearance in his home and not understanding exactly what either he or Juan had to do with the fact that she had run away from home. It was not as if she were a child. She was a woman of twenty-four.

  "Seina and Juan are in love," J.J. explained. "Seina's mother intended to force her to marry another man."

  Miguel's eyes grew wide with utter surprise as he looked quizzically at Juan. "You and Seina? When did this happen? You have never mentioned the fact that you even knew her and now you come to me and tell me that the two of you are in love and she has run away from home."

  There had been a time when his friends had not kept secrets from him. Nor he from them.

  "Six months ago I was ill." Seina's gaze pinpointed Miguel. "Juan took over several cases for my regular doctor when he had a personal emergency and that is how Juan and I met."

  Miguel glowered at Juan. "She was your patient?"

  "Don't be angry with Juan," Seina said. "He tried to tell me that many young women get crushes on their doctors, but I knew it was more than a crush. I knew I was in love with him, so I have been pursuing him … secretly … for months now."

  "Mother of God!" Miguel muttered under his breath. There would be no good time to hear this news, but why now, when all hell had broken loose and he was facing a crisis of conscience?

  "I have invited your sister to stay here with us," J.J. said.

  "You what?" Miguel snapped around and glowered at her. "How could you—"

  "I declined the offer," Seina said. "It was most gracious of your fiancée, Miguel, but I will be staying with Juan's aunt until we are married."

  "Married?" Miguel rubbed his forehead. "Do you think for one minute that your brother will allow you to marry Juan?"

  "I am of age. I have a legal right to marry whomever I please." Seina stared defiantly at Miguel. "And I am not worried about Diego interfering."

  "You're not? May I ask why not?"

  "Miguel, Seina has something to tell you about Diego," Juan said. "And you must listen and not lose your temper."

  J.J. stood up beside Miguel and placed her hand on his arm, whether to caution him to remain calm or to assure him of her support, he wasn't sure. Perhaps both.

  Juan sat down on the sofa beside Seina and put his arm around her shoulders. "Tell him."

  Seina nodded. "I have only recently learned that Diego blackmailed my friend Gala Hernandez and forced her to do something she did not want to do."

  "Gala Hernandez?" Miguel mulled over the name. An image of the woman's body flashed through his mind, then her face.

  "She was the woman at the country club who flirted with you," J.J. told him. "And then she showed up again at Anton Casimiro's dinner party. I can't believe you could have forgotten the beautiful woman who flirted outrageously with you."

  "Diego made her do it," Seina said. "He encouraged her to try to start an affair with Miguel so that he could use her to gain inside information about him."

  "I remember Gala." Miguel smiled. "But she failed in her attempts to distract me from Jennifer, so Diego's plan failed."

  "That's not all," Juan said.

  "Diego made her carry a vial of some kind of poison to the party at Señor Casimiro's," Seina told them.

  "So she is the one who poisoned the cocktail sauce?" Somehow this news did not surprise Miguel in the least. He had distrusted Señorita Hernandez almost from the moment they met. And the fact that his half-brother had provided her with the poison that had made more than a dozen people ill did not shock Miguel, either.

  "Gala did not put the poison in the food herself. She simply smuggled in the poison. Someone else took it from her purse and mixed it with the food."

  "Who?" Miguel demanded.

  "I do not know. I swear." Seina wrung her hands together.

  Miguel nodded as he digested this information. This meant that among Anton's guests that night there had been another Nationalist supporter. A spy? An undercover agent? A traitor? "I am not surprised that your brother would do anything to stop me from being elected president. He has made it no secret that he supports Hector Padilla with his money and influence. But unless you have some kind of proof that Diego was behind the poisoning, then the police can do nothing."

  "The police!" Seina gasped. "No, please, give Diego a chance to … to…" she struggled for the right word. "If you had known Diego before … before he learned that we had an illegitimate half-brother and before he came under President Padilla's influence, you would know he was not a bad man, not a man capable of harming others."

  "But now he is involved with murderers, with people willing to kill countless innocent people to—" Only when J.J. squeezed his arm, did Miguel realize he had been on the verge of sharing secret information. Hector Padilla's plot to return Mocorito to a dictatorship was not something Miguel could share with anyone else. That type of news could easily tip the scales and send the country into civil unrest, which was something he
wanted to avoid at all costs. If he could be elected president, then he would put a stop to Padilla's plans.

  "I cannot believe Diego had any part in the attempt on your life," Seina said.

  "Two men died that day and only last night my chauffeur was brutally beaten to death," Miguel told her. "If Diego is taking orders from Hector Padilla, then he may well be an accessory to murder."

  Seina hung her head and wept. Juan frowned at Miguel.

  J.J. pulled Miguel aside, out into the foyer. "Do you really want to take your anger out on Seina? She did a very brave thing today. She defied her mother and her brother. She is, in essence, giving up the only life she has ever known for the man she loves. And she is reaching out to you, her brother. She wants your help. She needs you. Are you going to turn your back on her?"

  "This is the worst possible time for something like this to have happened. I have the fate of my country in my hands and I must—"

  She took his hands in hers, turned them palms up and said, "You must do what is right. Offer her your support."

  Miguel closed his eyes and nodded. When he reopened them, J.J. was smiling at him.

  "You knew when you asked her to stay, she would decline the offer, didn't you?" he asked. "You simply wanted to show my sister that she is welcome in my home. Such diplomacy, querida. And such kindness."

  "We should handle this problem, now, then move on to the next one," J.J. said.

  "Yes, yes. One problem at a time."

  Together, hand-in-hand, they returned to the living room. "Seina, you and Juan have my blessings and my complete support. Mine and Jennifer's," Miguel told his sister. "It would be my honor for you to stay here in my home and be under my protection, if things were different. But at this time, the lives of those closest to me are in danger from my enemies. I fear you would not be safe here."

  Seina's eyes filled with fresh tears, but these were tears of joy. A warm smile spread across her damp face. "I will stay with Juan's aunt Josephina, but I am very grateful that you would—" her voice cracked with emotion.