River of Secrets (13 page)

“Yes, Carlita likes her a lot.”

Micah thought he knew where this was going. “Are you afraid Carlita will get attached to Amy and then Amy will leave?”

Salvador shrugged, not offering an answer. He walked off, shoulders still slumped. Micah blew out a breath. Poor kid. Turning his thoughts to his “to do” list, he decided he’d better call the Navy to let them know that he was still alive. Then he’d find out what Amy was up to.

At five-thirty that evening, Amy grabbed a flashlight and a raincoat, slipped into her waterproof boots and opened the door. The hall was quiet, everyone else was in the cafeteria eating the evening meal. She’d grabbed an apple and a tortilla thirty minutes ago. The note said six o’clock. Anna was already there up in the balcony so she could watch to see who came in.

Micah would be in the dining room with the rest of the group. Hopefully no one would be looking for her until later, when she’d promised Carlita she’d be there to tuck her in.

Locking the door behind her, she hurried out into the downpour. Rain, rain and more rain.
Please, God, keep me safe.

The wind knocked the trees around, the water sluicing down the canopy leaves to splatter on the ground. Amy splashed her way down the path to the chapel at the end. A larger church was attached to the main building, but the little stone chapel had been there for ages. Built in the 1800s, it had once been the center of the village built around it. The village had eventually disappeared, but the chapel still stood.

Amy had discovered it the day after she’d arrived in Tefe. Desperately needing a reprieve from the illness and misery, she’d taken a walk up the path. Upon entering the little door at the back, she’d been pleasantly surprised at how well kept it was. Later she’d learned they had services every Sunday morning out here.

Anna told her that the orphanage had purchased that land and the chapel from the government who’d taken it over when the villagers dispersed.

Now Amy told her stomach to settle down while she worked to control her erratic breathing. Nerves, fear and doubt shuddered through her.
For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.
II Timothy 1:7 ran through her mind as she placed her hand on the doorknob. She was sure Micah would question the “sound mind” part if he knew what she was getting ready to do. She wished she could ask for his help in this venture, but didn’t think he would agree. He was too angry right now. No, this was the best way. The only way. And Anna would be waiting inside for her. Anna would hide and call for help if needed. But she honestly didn’t think she’d need any help. Not this time.

Right, Lord?

Taking a deep breath didn’t help, so she opened the door and walked in, standing still to give the water time to pool at her feet. Musty air greeted her in spite of the chapel having been used this past Sunday. But it wasn’t the mustiness of dirt, it was the smell of ancient days, rich in history. She loved this place, wished she was there under different circumstances. But right now she needed to hurry. A glance at her watch told her time was passing quickly.

To her left, a winding staircase led up to the balcony. She wondered if she should chance being trapped up there. What if Maria brought someone with her? What if Amy was putting her trust completely in the wrong person? Not that she really trusted Maria, but…She sighed and shivered. It was chilly in here, well insulated against the heat of the tropics.

Anna, hiding in the balcony, gave Amy a small wave. Amy waved back then looked around, deciding she needed a place that would allow her to observe whoever entered, yet would have easy access for escape should she need it.

The baptism pool.

She hurried to the front of the chapel, passed the stained-glass windows depicting the crucifixion and up the two steps that led to the pool. Not a traditional baptismal, it was more like a miniature pond surrounded by stones and natural jungle vegetation. The wooden floor had been built around a small tree. Anna explained that the tree had to be cut every so often to keep it from reaching the roof.

A scrape sounded at the door.

Amy’s heart nearly leaped from her throat. She needed to hide. Now.

She scurried around the tree, praying the door behind the pool wasn’t locked. She didn’t have time to try it. Maria had arrived early, too.

Micah stared at the short stocky woman as she turned the knob to enter the small chapel. Who was she? Why was she meeting Amy here? Actually, Micah thought, the woman looked very familiar, yet he couldn’t place her. She didn’t work at the orphanage, that he was sure of. Maybe someone from the hospital. A nurse?

He shook his head. No. It was the police station. Her picture was on the wall. Disbelief sucked the air from his lungs as he realized Amy was meeting with a wanted felon.

Following her had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. He’d seen her walk by the cafeteria and out the door dressed for the rain. Curious, he’d stepped out to ask her where she was going, but she’d been focused…driven, secretive. So he’d kept his mouth shut and skulked after her.

And now he just discovered her meeting with a known rebel, a woman who sheltered killers and human traffickers. Sorrow shook him. Surely she wasn’t involved with these people. Micah thought about everyone at the orphanage who’d accepted him, fed him, cared for him. Lucas, who practically brought him back to life.

Anger took over. He felt like a fool. He’d trusted her, believed in her and her faith.
Have I been a fool, God? Has she completely tricked me in to believing everything she said? How can she do this?

If Amy put any of those wonderful people in danger with whatever she was into, he’d see to it she paid. And paid dearly. In the meantime, he’d give the two of them a little time to get comfortable, then he’d make his presence known.

The door opened and the covered figure entered the back of the chapel. Peering around the tree, Amy watched as the woman pulled back her hood.

Maria Morales. No mistaking that face.

The woman looked around, but didn’t seem to be interested in hiding. In fact, after about a minute, she slid into the very back pew and bowed her head as though praying. Stunned, Amy could only wonder at Maria’s actions.

Slowly, Amy eased from behind the tree. The wooden floor creaked and Maria’s head shot up.

“It’s me. Amy.”

Expressionless, the woman said, “You are smart. You arrived early, too.”

Amy shrugged, “I’m meeting a woman whose face is on a wanted poster in the police station. I’m not sure I’d call that smart.”

A hint of a smile almost crossed Maria’s lips. Amy wondered if that was a figment of her imagination. Maria said, “You are trying to find me. I am here. What do you want?”

For a moment, words escaped her and Amy just stood and stared at the woman. Finally she blurted, “You’re my grandmother.”

Still no expression. “So I heard.”

Amy sidled closer. “You have contacts in the police department. The man who attacked me warned me away from you.”

“Yes, he warned me also.”

“Really?”

“Warned me to have no contact with you. The woman claiming to be my granddaughter.”

“My mother is Juanita Morales.”

“Juanita. Then she is alive?” A slight catch in her voice clued Amy in. The woman wasn’t completely unfeeling. And her eyes said she had accepted Amy’s claim as true.

“She’s alive.” She left it at that. No sense in revealing Juanita’s current address was the county jail. Not until Amy had some kind of hint that Maria was going to help her find any remaining relatives she might have left in this country.

“Do you know anything of your uncle? Rafael?” The question seemed forced, as though Maria was loath to ask it.

Maria didn’t know? Amy twitched, wondering whether she should tell her Rafael had been murdered in jail after he’d been arrested for trying to kill Cassidy. She settled for simply saying, “He…died.”

A deep breath was the only indication of the woman’s distress. “I see.”

Amy rushed on. “I’m a friend of Cassidy McKnight. Do you remember her? She was in your camp, kidnapped from this orphanage.”

“
Sim,
I remember her. What about her?”

“She said you kept her safe from Rafael.”

“This is also true. He had no business messing with her. I knew her family would not give up looking for her. If Rafael harmed her, he would only bring trouble down onto the camp.”

Ignoring that explanation for a moment, Amy got to the part she was really interested in. “Do I have any other relatives?”

Maria tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, studying Amy as though trying to read her. Finally, she nodded once, then said, “Yes, one. You have a cousin who lives in the camp. She is twelve.”

“A cousin,” she breathed, stunned yet thrilled. “Twelve years old. Is she happy?”

“I don’t know. I never asked her. She does what all girls in the camp do. She works hard and keeps her mouth shut.”

Inwardly, Amy shuddered at the picture of such a dreadful life. Then a thought came to her. Maybe, she could make a difference in her cousin’s life and make up for some of the destruction her mother had wrought. “Would she be willing to come to America with me if I could arrange it?” she asked.

“Why?”

Stepping closer, Amy held out a beseeching hand. “Because we need to get her away from there. Do you really want her growing up and living that kind of life? Wondering every day if she’s going to live or die? Sold into prostitution?”

Anger snapped in the black eyes. “She is twelve years old. Do you really think I would allow that to happen?”

“Do you really think you can you prevent it?” Amy whispered.

This statement finally evoked some emotion on the blank face, some agitation evident in her body language. Maria stood, paced to the door and back. “This is not the life I would have chosen for my children—or my grandchildren. But it was the life of my husband. If I tried to resist him, he’d beat me.” A shrug followed a weary sigh. “Your cousin, her name is Lucia. Do you really think you can help her? What do you plan to do with her?”

“Take her back to the United States. Give her a chance at a normal life. I just don’t know what it’ll take or how to go about it legally.”

Maria let out a long slow exhale, rolling her shoulders as though trying to throw off the tension. Flatly, she said, “She is an American citizen.”

Now that was unexpected. “What? How?”

“Brigitte, Lucia’s mother, was an American. I do not know how she and Rafael met. All I know is that Rafael was gone for a long time and when he returned, he had his wife and newborn baby with him. One month after they arrived, Brigitte died in a car bombing in Rio de Janeiro. Organized crime is rising and the police can do nothing.” She shrugged. “The rebels hide in the forest where no one can find us.”

“I found you.”

A wry chuckle took Amy aback. Maria declared, “No, I found you.”

“Okay,” she drew the word out slowly. “I guess that’s true. All that aside, will you help me get her out of this life? Will you try to get out yourself? You can come back to the United States, live with me.”

Maria shook her head slowly. “No, not me. I am here until I die, but Lucia…” She briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were softer, almost wistful. “I will think on what you have said. I will contact you within a week. Do not look for me before that. I am not the only one that knows you are here. Many in the camp do because of our contact in the city.”

“The policeman, Roberto.”

Narrowing her eyes, she said, “Yes. Do not go anywhere alone. If he knows that you saw his face that night, he will come after you. He is very angry with the one you call Juan. Roberto is even meaner than Rafael. He wears the uniform of the good side, but you do not want to see his bad side. Unfortunately, if he can get you alone, he will probably kill you and the other man. The one who beat him in the alley.”

Amy shuddered. “I’ve already seen his bad side, and you’re right, I have no desire to see it again. We’ll be careful. And God will look after us.”

Maria stood. “I don’t know about your God—” she crossed herself “—but if you are talking about the God Christians believe in, then I pity you. He has shown His weakness. He has no power. All I see in this world is evil. I hope you do not become one of its many victims.”

Amy wanted to weep at this statement. How could she reach the woman? Would she have the opportunity to share Christ with her?

Twenty feet away, the door started to swing open. With a finger to her lips, a warning in her eyes, Maria headed to the front of the chapel where the second exit was. She slipped out the front at the same time Micah slipped in the back.

Amy stared at him. What was he doing here?

NINE

“W
hat are you doing here, Amy?” Micah took no pleasure in her surprise at his presence; he just wanted to figure out what was going on.

“No, Micah, that’s my question? What are
you
doing here?”

Shutting the door on the rain that still pounded, he stepped into the lobby. A quick shake of his dark head flung water droplets everywhere. “Following you,” he answered.

Outrage flickered across her face. “What gives you the right?”

“The same thing that gave you the right to keep my identity a secret.”

She flinched. Micah winced. Okay, maybe that had been a shot below the belt.

He looked around and asked, “You want to tell me what you’re doing consorting with a known criminal?”

“None of your business.”

Fury exploded through him. “I’m making it my business! In case you haven’t noticed, someone’s tried to kill me several times over the last few days. Call me paranoid, but your actions don’t add up. You don’t tell me my identity, you’re obviously hiding something and now you’re having a rendezvous with a woman who’s on a wanted poster. What am I supposed to think?”

“You’re not supposed to think anything. I came here for answers to my own questions. I may need to find those answers before I can do anything about yours.”