Hard Target (14 page)

"Explosives don't like rain." His remark was as acerbic as the previous one. Frustrated that Tay felt the need to act this way around her, Dawna sat back and shut up.

He didn't want to be alone with her. The urge to swear rose inside of her, but she bit it back with furious restraint.

The air from the vents blasted upward, hitting the windshield before skimming the top of her head. All she could smell was skin and rain.

With gritted teeth, she said, "I ought to do more than just throw you in jail. I ought to put you on the next plane out of here. Wherever it's going."

Tay glared out the windshield. "I thought you liked tackling things head on. You never shied away from anything on the course."

"Tackling things head on is one thing. Barreling out into the pouring rain to race down a mud-drenched mountain road in a seven thousand pound car isn't courageous. It's stupid. Look, I didn't want to stay in that cabin all night, either, but running out in this storm isn't the answer, and you know it."

Tay slowed down as he approached the small plaza. "I'll just tell the priest we're leaving," he growled out.

"Do you know the word for idiot in Spanish?"

They pulled up to the front façade of the church. He turned to her, slight confusion creasing his forehead. "No. What is it?"

"I don't know, either," she answered dryly. "But I bet you're about to find out."

Tay smirked. "I always wanted to learn another language." He threw open his door. After both scrambled out, they bolted for the church.

Inside, Dawna grabbed Tay's arm. The priest and another man were up at the altar, but neither was praying. They'd carried Cabanelos' body and stretched it out on the floor in front of the crucifix. A snowy white communion sheet covered it.

Sadness pervaded the air around them.

Both men turned when Tay shut the door.

"Did you get my message?" the priest asked.

Dawna nodded, advancing down the aisle. Tay remained at the rear. Predictable, she thought. "Are you the doctor?" she asked the other man.

A weather-beaten man in his fifties, he said, "
Si
. I am doctor." His accent was stronger than the priest's.

"Do you have any idea how he died?"

The doctor turned to the body and shrugged. "Heart attack."

"Caused by what?" Tay asked.

Dawna peeked out the corner of her eye. Tay had abandoned his post by the front door and now stood beside her. She hadn't heard him approach.

The doctor lifted his hands, palms upward, and rattled off something in Spanish. The priest interpreted. "Returning to the mountains. Too much exercise. Even a man who grew up here loses his acclimatization when he leaves."

"Not something he ate?"

"Possibly." The doctor looked at her as the priest spoke in English, "You found something at his home?"

"No," Tay answered. "The usual foodstuffs only. Will you order an autopsy?"

The doctor laughed. "This not a rich country,
señor
."

Dawna knew what he meant. The family would get stuck with the autopsy bill, regardless of whether a criminal offense had been committed or not and if there was no family, the police would be reluctant to order it. That was the way things sometimes worked here. Regardless, the result was that many murders went unsolved. Justice had to be ignored when there were mouths to feed.

She cleared her throat. "Could you have the body taken to the morgue in Cochabamba? I'm sure my embassy would pay for the autopsy."

The doctor glanced at the priest, who interpreted it into Spanish. "And his burial?" was asked next.

Dawna wasn't in a position to offer that much. "What about his wife? Where's she?"

"He asked for her, but I don't know who she is." The priest shrugged. "She must be from Cochabamba, since he was there so much. I'll try to find out."

"Did he say anything that could help us discover why he wanted to see Dawna?" Tay asked.

The priest pursed his lips. "I can tell you nothing of what he said, except I know it won't help with your investigation." Turning his back on them, he knelt down in front of the altar, effectively ending the questioning.

Tay touched Dawna's arm. "Let's go," he whispered.

She gaped at him. "We can't leave the body. You know that." Maintaining continuity of the evidence was paramount. They had to stay with it, right through to the autopsy. The only time the body could be left was when it was secured, like a firearm, someplace safe.

The doctor cleared his throat and said through the priest who didn't even bother to look up, "I will stay with the body." The doctor took out a pad and wrote down his name and phone number, before handing it to Dawna. "And I will bring it to the morgue in the morning. Remember,
Señora
. The
policia
do things differently here."

That much was true. She was certainly out of her jurisdiction and didn't want to step on any official toes here. Not when she was trying to uncover the truth and had already declined to tell the
policia
about Cabanelos' whereabouts. That was probably why the ambassador had held back calling them, too.

Tay leaned over and spoke quietly in her ear. "He's right. There's not much we can do here. We should be looking for the wife and figuring out why Cabanelos said Ramos wasn't who he seemed. Those answers are mostly likely down in the city."

She glanced around the church. As much as she didn't want to go back out into the downpour, even though they were already soaked, she had no desire to stay in the dim, damp church, either. Not with Cabanelos' dead body stretched out in front of the altar, covered in white, as if he was now absolved of all his crimes. She shivered. Considering the way he'd mysteriously died, maybe he hadn't committed those crimes in the first place. But did that mean his killer was here in Cardon Plata?

She stored a furtive glance at the priest, wondering how much she could trust him.

No answers tonight, she thought grimly. Right now, the most they could hope for was a decent autopsy. She thanked the doctor, and they left, disappointment and frustration as heavy on her as her wet clothes.

Outside, the rain and wet snow had yet to let up and they made the quick dash for the car. Tay sprinted out ahead and reached the driver's door first.

She started the security sweep, but heard Tay yell out, "To hell with that! Get in! No one's around."

She climbed into the passenger side, not wanting to argue. And she'd even let him drive.

As long as he didn't drive off a cliff.

Tay wasn't sure he was doing the right thing spinning away from the church in the middle of a wild rainstorm. And when he considered the boy's warning that the road had been washed out, he knew for a fact he wasn't doing the right thing. But the priest hadn't reminded them of the road's condition, so perhaps they'd misinterpreted the child's words?

His foot tramped hard on the accelerator.

Were his actions because Cabanelos lay dead back there? He'd seen his share of dead bodies, even shoved one off his own frame once during a rather nasty gun battle. No, even he knew he was running away from something far deeper than the death of a suspect.

But now wasn't the time to identify what that was. The wet snow slashed at the windshield, too much for even the wipers to control as the flakes thickened on the blades. Everything around them was dark, as if the sun had seen the brutality of this storm and set early. The headlights cut wide, dim beams through the downpour. He should pull over. Maybe once they got outside the village...

"This is ridiculous, Tay," Dawna snapped. "Stop the car!"

Tay drew in a deep breath, trying to curb the flood of unusual emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Damn it, he was a seasoned undercover operative. He didn't give into his feelings.

"
Nathan, you would run off to that station in a blinding rainstorm if they called you. Why can't you stay here for once
?"

Tay slammed hard on the brakes, the back end of the heavy car fishtailing for a few frenzied seconds. Automatically, he cut the wheels into the skid and the car lurched through the thick muck to an uneven stop. With his eyes shut, Tay clenched his teeth. His mother's voice died away with the squeal of muddy brakes.

Again, her voice. What was going on?

"I didn't mean for you to stop like that." Dawna's tone was dry.

"It's the mud," he muttered as he shut off the engine. It was time he dealt with hearing his mother's bitter voice. Maybe it was also time to visit the psychologist that was offered to operatives after particularly difficult assignments. He'd refused the offer because he'd heard the MSGU wanted someone to fly down to check Dawna's work.

He'd turn down anything for a chance to see her again.

"What the hell is going on with you?" she asked with a note of incredulity. "I know you don't care to be alone with me, Hastings, but driving like a maniac through a storm isn't going to get me out of your damn hair! Like it or not, we're in this together."

His eyes flew open. "I don't want you out of my hair!" Abruptly, he shut up, feeling the blood surge into his face.

Maybe he did. Was Dawna right? Was he scared to be alone with her? Was he scared of his emotions? Since when was he such a coward?

No, he wasn't afraid. And he wanted to be alone with her more than he wanted to breathe his next breath.

He turned to her, but Dawna was focused on the view beyond the windshield. She swore softly, her voice quivering. Tay tore his gaze away from her to stare out the windshield.

And swear to himself.

The road ahead was gone. A huge jagged boulder sat halfway through the washed out section. Branches and scrubby brush littered the road. A growing waterfall cascaded down the mountainside to their left, cutting a deep groove in the soft muck of the hill.

They were trapped.

Chapter Eight

Dawna sagged back, feeling her head bump the headrest. Thank God Tay had slammed on the brakes. They'd have never seen the washout until it was too late.

They shouldn't have left the church, as cold and damp and unpleasant as it was.

She peeked at Tay. He looked as pale as she felt in the reflected light of the head lamps. "You okay?"

Slowly, he nodded, his expression grim and distracted. Good. Maybe he was finally rethinking this stupid need to run all the time.