River of Secrets (14 page)

Muscles tensed in reaction to his almost overwhelming desire to hit something. Forcing himself to relax, he took in a calming breath. “Look, we still need to talk. I should be on the phone with the cops and have them out here combing the grounds looking for that woman.”

“No, don’t do that!”

In agitation, Micah scraped a hand down the side of his face that bore his scars. “No, I don’t suppose there’s any point now, is there? We both know how fast the justice system moves out here—when it moves at all, that is.” He paced forward, back. “Is there somewhere we can go to finish our discussion from earlier in the day?”

“I need to tuck Carlita into bed. I promised.”

Micah didn’t know what to think. She was apparently on friendly terms with a murderer and yet she was worried about breaking a promise to a six-year-old who wasn’t even her own child. He felt like throwing up his hands and letting out a massive yell.

Instead he looked at his watch. Seven forty-five. “Meet me in the kitchen at eight-thirty. If you don’t show up, I’ll hunt you down.”

Oops, that was the wrong tone to take and wrong thing to say. Amy narrowed her eyes, stepped forward and jabbed a finger in his chest. “Don’t threaten me, Micah.”

“Or what?”

“I don’t know what,” she blustered, “but you’ll be sorry.”

“I already am sorry,” he murmured.

She flinched and turned to go. He grabbed her arm, pulled her back. “I’m not finished. I mean, I’m sorry you feel you can’t trust me. I’m sorry you’re so bullheaded that you refuse to ask for help. I’m not your enemy, Amy. We’ve known each other forever. You’ve been a little sister to me since you kicked me in the shins for locking Cassidy in the closet because she was getting on my nerves. Why is it so hard for you to trust me?”

“I know you’re not the enemy.”

“Then let me in on what’s going on.”

“I can’t!” Raw emotion ripped from her throat. He blinked. She really thought she couldn’t tell him. But why? She stomped away, came back. “You’re right. We’ve known each other forever, Micah. You’re black and white, right or wrong. In your eyes, the end does
not
justify the means. You see everything as one choice or the other. And maybe that’s the way it should be.” She gave a weary shrug. “Right now, I’m not sure what I think. I just know that I’m trying to offer my help to…someone and I can’t have the authorities in the way until it’s done.”

“Well, that’s clear as mud.”

“I know.” She reached up and cupped his rough cheek. “I’m sorry. I want to tell you and I will, but could you just give me a little time?”

Micah felt the touch of her hand all the way to the depths of his heart. Her eyes begged him to understand, to keep his questions to himself for the time being. He brought his hand up and covered the one she still had on his cheek. “For now. But just promise me you won’t do anything else that has
stupid
written all over it.”

She gave a teary chuckle. “The only promise I can make is to promise to try. Now, let me go tuck in a little girl.”

Micah watched her walk off, scanned the perimeter of the chapel and saw no one. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been watching from the shadows.

Amy was sure Anna had snuck out of the chapel after she and Micah had vacated it and could only hope the woman hadn’t been too embarrassed by the scene. Truthfully, Amy had been so absorbed in everything, she’d forgotten poor Anna up in the balcony. She’d apologize later. Right now, she hurried to Carlita and Salvador’s room.

A quick glance at her watch showed 8:00 p.m. Bedtime for the little ones. Salvador would probably be in the television room. This morning, Carlita had run up and grabbed Amy around the waist, clinging, crying, yet still not making a sound.

Her heart breaking for the little girl, Amy had held her for an hour, rocking, singing, soothing. Anything to make the child feel better. Carlita had finally slid from her lap and run off to play, but the anguish contained in that small body clenched itself around Amy’s heart and squeezed until it hurt to breathe.

Lightly, she knocked on the door to the room. Before she could step in, Anna came out of her office and headed down the hall toward Amy.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

“As right as it can be, I suppose. I’m just here to tuck the little one into bed.”

“How’s Micah? I tried not to listen in, but…”

Amy closed her eyes briefly. “It’s not your fault. I appreciate your willingness to be there to back me up—and I apologize for the scene. As for Micah, he’s…not so fine. Understandably so. But I just can’t tell him everything yet. Now that I’ve found out about Lucia, I want to make sure I can get her away from here if Maria decides to let her go. Knowing Micah, he’d insist on getting involved and the man’s in enough danger as it is from someone unknown. No sense in giving someone else another reason to hurt him.”

“I don’t know that I totally agree with what you’re doing. If Maria does help Lucia leave, they’ll both be considered traitors. You’re right. You need to start preparing to get her out.”

Amy threw her hands up. “Should I do something differently? If I tell the authorities about Maria and the camp—I don’t know the location, but they might have an idea of where it is—they would go in there with guns blazing. And that’s assuming their police informant hasn’t let the rebels know in advance to disappear.”

Nodding, arms crossed over her chest, Anna said, “You’re probably right. This country is so different. So volatile. You try desperately to make a right decision—like letting law enforcement know about dangerous felons hiding out in the jungle—and it’s very possible that could be the wrong decision. Especially since you know they have a traitor on the force. You and I, we’re Americans. We might move here, fall in love with the people and the place, but we’ll never be natives. They have their own customs, their own way of dealing with things. Don’t let that get you in trouble, Amy.”

The words cut deep into her heart, but she knew what Anna as trying to say. “I’ll do my best not to. Thanks for the words of advice.”

Anna smiled, leaned over and gave Amy a hug. “Tell Carlita I said, good-night.”

“Sure.” Amy opened the door and stepped into the room. Carlita lay on the bed, her stuffed bunny tucked up under her chin. She looked up at Amy and smiled a sweet little-girl smile that captured Amy’s affections in a way she couldn’t describe. The clean scent of a recent bath teased Amy’s nose.

Leaning over the bed, Amy placed a kiss on Carlita’s downy soft cheek. “’Night, little one.”

Carlita’s arms wound around Amy’s neck and gave her a gentle squeeze. Tears tried to leak out of Amy’s eyes, but she forced them back.
Please, Lord, help this little girl and her brother. Send them a family to love them and teach them about You.

Out loud, she offered a short prayer in her Portuguese, which was improving daily. After another quick squeeze, she stood up and tucked the covers around the little girl who rested her chin on her ever-present bunny. Amy said good-night one more time as she drew the mosquito netting around the bed.

Carlita gave a contented smile and closed her eyes.

As Amy turned to leave, motion to her right caught her attention. She managed to muffle her scream as she realized who it was. “Salvador,” she gasped. “You scared me half to death.”

“Sorry, Miss Amy. I was just coming to check on Carlita. I didn’t realize you didn’t hear me come in.”

Catching her breath, Amy placed a hand over her racing heart. “No, it’s okay. I guess I’m a little jumpy.”

Salvador eyed his now sleeping sister. “She likes you.”

“I like her, too.”

“I’m going to take her to America one day soon. To get her the help she needs.”

“I know you will, Salvador. You have a good night and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Praying for strength and wisdom, she went to meet Micah.

Micah paced the empty kitchen, alternating between praying and doubting. What was Amy up to? Would she talk to him or shut him out again. If she chose to clam up, how would he react? Could he accept giving her the time she said she needed? And in the meantime, did he trust her? Or should he keep her close in order to keep an eye on her?

The Amy he knew from childhood, and even on into adulthood, had been a self-serving little brat. Not once could he remember her doing anything to help someone else. She and Cassidy had been two of a kind, sneaking out of the house, partying at the local bars with fake IDs, getting into whatever mischief they could find. Fortunately, their shenanigans never landed them in legal troubles, but their antics were enough to cause their parents—and one older brother—a few gray hairs.

Only the Amy he now knew seemed to be an entirely different person. Someone who thought about others first. And she read her Bible daily. The Amy he’d known a few years ago would never have been concerned about someone unless they were too sick to go shopping. And that had to constitute a near-death experience, he recalled.

“I’m here.”

Tentative, a little worried, her voice came to him from the kitchen entrance. Steeling himself against the desire to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay, he leveled his gaze on her.

“Tell me the truth, Amy. Do you know what happened two and a half years ago? Why that highly confidential mission went wrong and literally blew up in our faces?”

Anguish crossed her features. If she bit her lip any harder, she’d bite right through it. “Yes, I know.”

“Tell me.”

“My mother is Juanita Morales.”

“The woman on the missing-persons poster. I e-mailed it to your father, asking if it was your mother. They looked so much alike, I couldn’t believe it. I figured it was just a fluke, but thought I’d see what he had to say about it.”

Amy wandered into the room, arms crossed in front of her stomach. “My father never saw that e-mail.”

Micah frowned. “Oh, I thought it might have been him who set me up.”

A huge sigh escaped Amy’s lips. “No, that would have been my mother.”

Shock zipped up his spine. “Your mother? I never considered…”

Lips tight to control their quivering, she nodded. “My father is on the United States Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. He has access to all of the Special Forces missions information.”

“But you just said it was your mother.”

Frustration flushed her face. “I know. Just…be quiet a minute, will you?”

Micah gritted his teeth, drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She paced in front of him. He let her. Finally, she stopped, scrubbed her eyes with the heel of her palms. When she looked up, she looked straight at him. “Do you know where all of our precious family money came from? Not from some healthy inheritance that I’ve always believed existed. Oh no, my grandfather, my father’s father, died broke.”

Micah simply listened, not wanting to interrupt now that she was telling him what he wanted to know.

Through fresh tears, she continued, “My mother couldn’t stand the thought of becoming some middle-class, working woman. After all, she’d married a senator. So, she contacted the brother she’d sworn never to see again after he’d sold her into prostitution when she was a teenager and basically destroyed her.”

Disbelief shuddered through him. That didn’t mesh with the picture he had of Cecelia Graham. “Oh, boy.”

Amy gave a hard laugh. “Yes, oh, boy, indeed. So, she decided to go into business with her brother, my
uncle.
” Micah flinched when she spat the word as though it contained poison. “The two of them ran a profitable human-trafficking ring. Everything was obviously going along nicely until my father and your father were up for the ambassadorial appointment. She honestly thought there was no way my father would lose that appointment. And when he did, she knew what Jonathan McKnight’s focus would be.”

“Human trafficking. Dad’s always said he and the president would go after them if he ever had a chance.”

“Mother had made a whole new life for herself. She got out of this country, watched how the rich lived, where they went. She spent years perfecting herself. Then she met my father and figured she’d made it.”

“But—” he started. Amy held up a finger, and he snapped his lips shut.

“I’m getting there. So—” she hauled in another deep breath while swiping away a few stray tears “—when your father got the appointment, my mother knew of his love for the people of Brazil and that he abhorred that human trafficking was so prevalent in this country. She was afraid that all the effort he’d put in on eradicating human trafficking would cause her
business
to suffer. She wanted to take his focus from his job…and get rid of the only other person who knew her real identity, or at least the person she assumed knew her real identity because of the e-mail…you. She intercepted it, hacked into my father’s computer and work files and set you up—you and two teams of SEALs—to be wiped out.”

Sobs threatened to overtake her. Micah watched her through a fog of anger and disbelief as she struggled to control her emotions. He wanted to feel sorry for her. He wanted to feel…nothing. But like clips from a horror movie, all he could feel was the anguish of watching his buddies die and the smell of fire as it consumed the building around him.

It just hit him. The mission. He’d lost friends. Good men had died, wives had buried husbands, children would never know their fathers…. all because of this woman’s mother—and greed. Because of money. He almost doubled over with nausea. It was all he could do not to fall to his knees.

Sheer effort kept him on his feet. He’d been so focused on finding out what Amy knew, he hadn’t allowed himself to remember all that
he
knew—until now. He’d grieve later. Right now, the fury building inside him had to have an outlet. “So, why are you here, Amy? To finish the job your mother started?”

TEN

A
my slid to the floor and wept. She deserved it. Everything he said. His anger, his suspicions, possibly his hate. Telling him was worse than she’d dreamed. Not only was he furious, he was deeply hurt. A soul-deep hurt she wondered if he would ever recover from.