River of Secrets (4 page)

Jonathas flashed a rare smile. “Always.” He headed toward the cafeteria located off the side of the main building.

Amy saw Salvador and Carlita walking with several other children. She waved and smiled. Salvador waved back; Carlita stuck a finger in her mouth, but at least she didn’t turn away this time. In fact, she even offered Amy a shy smile. Progress.

Lucas said, “I’ll call the police and talk to the chief, see if he wants to come out here. My guess is he’ll just tell me to bring him the evidence. There’s a small lab here in Tefe. Any big stuff has to be sent to Manaus or São Paulo.”

He headed off, and Juan turned to Amy. “Walk with me along the river? I’m not very hungry right now. My appetite is still trying to work its way back to normal.”

She smiled. “Sure.”

They headed down the path that led to the river and he asked, “What are you doing here, Amy?”

Juan watched her hesitate, her delicate brows drawing together into a frown. “What do you mean?”

He wanted to ask her all about herself, her background, find out what made her tick. The sadness he sometimes saw flicker in her eyes told him she had a depth to her that he was interested in trying to discover. What had happened in her life to shadow her beautiful eyes? “Just, why here? Why this orphanage? You’re very passionate about helping. More so than the average person.” He shrugged. “I guess I’m just curious as to why.”

She kept walking, turning her head as she thought. He wished she hadn’t, he wanted to see her face. Finally, she said, “Because of my mother.”

“Your mother?”

“Mmm, hmm. Because of her, I want to spread goodness, kindness, compassion, everything good you can think of. I want to be a part of it, helping others, telling them about Christ.”

Was she for real? “That’s—admirable.”

Amy ducked her head self-consciously. “Well, I don’t know about that. It’s just how I feel right now. The decision I’ve made. And I hope God honors it.”

“God, huh?”

She nodded, looked up at him. “Yes, God. Why?”

Juan stuck his hands into his pockets and scuffed the mud path. “I wish I knew what I thought about Him. I mean, I listen to the speaker in the little chapel every Sunday, but…”

“Yes, I like him. We’re fortunate he’s willing to come out here each week. And he’s definitely on target when he talks about the Bible. But what do you think? About God?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, I believe there
is
a God. But at this point, I can’t remember if I ever…” He felt weird having this conversation, but good at the same time. She listened in a way that made him want to keep talking. “You know. Asked him for forgiveness. Did the whole salvation thing. Sometimes I talk to Him like He’s my best friend. Other times I wonder if I’m talking to air. Do you think He holds that against me?”

“I know what you mean. And, of course He doesn’t hold that against you. I finally came to not only understand, but accept, that He loves me, regardless of the things I’ve done. In spite of my family, and just simply because He created me, He loves me. I used to wonder if He was up there in His great big Heaven, looking down on me, ready to catch me doing something wrong so He could zap me.” A dimple peeked up at him as she gave a cheeky grin. “Thank goodness that’s not the case. I’d have been zapped a long time ago.” The grin faded, her eyes turned sad. “He just wants to love me—and just wants me to believe that, which I do, even though I don’t understand unconditional love. I just know I’m grateful for it.” She gave a sad little laugh that matched the look in her eyes, and Juan felt it seep into the cracks of his hurting soul.

Amy moved, stepping over the trunk of a small tree to use it as a seat. Juan settled himself beside her and looked up to see the sun sprinkling light between the huge canopy leaves above him. The forest was alive, never still, always moving. He’d come to love it…and hate it, for it was here that he’d lost himself. And sometimes it was extremely hard to hold on to the hope that he would one day remember.

Changing the subject, he asked, “So what do you think about the place? The kids, the staff?”

She took the hint. “I love it here. I can’t believe all the good going on here in what seems to be the middle of nowhere. I have peace knowing I made the right decision in coming. I wasn’t sure at first, but when Anna called to ask for my help—” she shrugged “—I couldn’t say no.”

He gazed off into the distance and murmured, “Well, I’m sure glad you’re here. I just wish I knew how
I
got here, what I was doing before the fire, who I’ve left…” He glanced back down at her. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you while I was so sick.” He swallowed hard; her beauty moved him. Not just the outward, but what she was on the inside. Compassionate, caring…all the things Lucas had mentioned. “Thank-you seems kind of inadequate after all you did for me, not just medically, but emotionally, too. Your being there helped tremendously.” Juan gave a small self-deprecating laugh. “It’s hard to admit, but I really felt alone. I’ve felt that way for a long time. I mean, Lucas has been great, but…” He shrugged, unable to fully find the words to share his thoughts.

Amy reached over and placed a compassionate hand on his forearm. “Keep talking to God. He’s there and He hears you. Come join me in the morning at the end of the dock. I go there to be alone with God, but wouldn’t mind your company.” She smiled. “And in the meantime, you’re doing some great stuff around here. I hear you got Salvador playing baseball and laughing. That’s an accomplishment. You’ve obviously made a huge impact on him. He came to your bedside just about every day to watch over you. He kept asking me if you were going to die.” She glanced up at him with a shy smile. “I’m very glad you didn’t.”

He gave in to the desire to wrap an arm around her shoulders for a quick squeeze. “Thanks.”

Letting his arm drop, he changed the topic. “I wish we could do something to help Carlita. She needs a special kind of help that’s not readily available here.”

They stood, brushed themselves off and started walking along the river’s edge, through the path worn from many trips for water. Amy mused, “In the States, there’s a child psychologist on every corner. But here…”

“We could offer to fly her to America for help.”

Amy shrugged. “True, but…”

The trees rustled more so than usual, distracting her from finishing her sentence. Juan stopped. He wasn’t terribly worried, but a stray jaguar had been known to attack the unwary tourist who wandered into its territory. And sometimes two-legged beasts often roamed looking for prey. It paid to be cautious. He scanned the area, senses on alert, wary, watchful.

“What is it?” Amy whispered, catching his suddenly intense mood.

“I don’t think it’s anything, but let’s get back to the orphanage. I’m starting to get hungry.” He wasn’t about to scare her with the jaguar theory—or take a chance that it was something even more dangerous. Better just to get away now. He took her hand and turned around to head back when a memory flashed.

“Catch the ball, dude.” He passed the basketball to the guy on his right and watched the man shoot a perfect, net-only basket. He whooped and thumped the guy on the back. “Now, that’s what I call shooting!”

Another flash.

The jungle, betrayal, fire. “Get out now!” The words ripped through his headphone. He looked back at the frightened eyes of the small child. “Come on, little one, we’ve got to go.” He gripped the small hand tight and pulled. The explosion rocked him, he lost his grip. “No!”

Another flash.

“Gabe, look out!” He pulled the trigger. The man stopped in shock, looked at the stain spreading across his chest, then staggered, fell forward and was still. Hard to breathe. Singed flesh stung his nose. Then…nothing.

Juan stumbled on with each clip of memory. He’d make sure Amy was safe, then examine what he’d just remembered. Excitement rippled through him. He was remembering.
Oh, God, please let me remember.

Amy let Juan lead her back down the path; he hurried and she stumbled along behind him. The river rushed beside them. Juan kept looking over his shoulder.

“You think someone’s there?” she gasped between steps. “Why would someone be watching us?”

Juan glanced back again, “I’m not sure anyone is. But those darts didn’t come from nowhere, so I’m just going to be a little paranoid until we can figure that out.”

Amy, seeing his point, kept up the pace. Juan turned back one more time to look at her and before Amy could warn him, he ran into a low-hanging branch. It snagged his shirt and held on. Juan grunted, jerked away. The shirt ripped leaving a gaping hole and Amy gasped; her hands flying up to cover her mouth.

“I’m all right,” he reassured her. “It didn’t get much of me, just ruined a perfectly good shirt.”

Amy stared at the gap left by the torn garment. She couldn’t take her eyes from the exposed skin.

Juan saw her staring and flushed. “I know. It’s not pretty, is it?”

His puckered, tortured skin looked angry, shouting its fury at the devastation the fire had left behind. Amy realized he thought she was horrified by the scars, and she was, but that was only secondary in her mind. It was the birthmark over the lower part of his abdomen twining its way around to his back that had her transfixed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she whispered through her fingers. She dropped her hands from her mouth to reach out as though to touch him, pulling back at the last second. Shock still shuddered through her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

He glanced around behind her, then reached out and cupped her chin with his good hand, free of scars or ugly reminders. “Hey, it’s all right. Every time I see them, I just tell myself it’s better than the alternative.” Again he looked around, studied the bushes, the trees, but nothing moved. And still, Amy stared at him.

Tears leaked down her cheeks to mingle with the sweat already there. He shifted and through her fog, she sensed he’d become uncomfortable with her stare. “Do they repulse you?”

Amy jerked. “No, no, of course not. I’ve actually seen worse.”

“Then, come on. Let’s get on back. I don’t think anyone is there, but…” He took her hand again and tugged.

Amy followed mindlessly, still in a state of utter disbelief, danger forgotten. How many times had she seen that birthmark as she swam in the pool at the McKnight estate? It looked like a belt, complete with the buckle right above his navel. Only it stopped short under his ribs on the left side of his torso. How often had she teased him about having to get a tattoo so that he could finish what nature had started? She remembered how he’d laughed when she’d bought him a pair of suspenders to go with his “belt” the Christmas she’d been seventeen and he’d been home on leave from the Navy.

Hysteria bubbled to the surface. Emotions ran rampant, her heart thudded in her ears. She had to find a phone, get in contact with his family. She had to tell them their prayers had been answered, that she’d found their missing son and brother. She’d found Micah McKnight.

Three days later, Amy finished up her lunch and tossed her napkin on the tray. Exhaustion swamped her and sleep eluded her. She’d called every number she had for every member of the McKnight family several times over, including her best friend, Cassidy, Micah’s sister. No answer. They were all on an extended cruise, apparently out of cell phone range.

And there was no way she was leaving that kind of information on voice mail. So, while she’d absorbed and processed the fact that Micah McKnight was alive and well—at least for the most part—she still wrestled with what to do now. Did she tell him she knew who he was? And that her mother had been the one to betray him, the one who’d caused all of his misery?

That Amy’s eagerness to help at the orphanage had been influenced, in part, by her devastation when she’d learned of her mother’s illegal activities? Activities which included murder, human trafficking and the kidnapping of Amy’s best friend, Cassidy McKnight, who had travelled to this very orphanage to take custody of a child left in her care.

Did she tell him her mother had been so blinded by greed, so desperate to find a way to stop Cassidy’s father, the ambassador to Brazil, from continuing his work against human trafficking that she’d planned Cassidy’s kidnapping, then hired her own brother, Amy’s uncle Rafael, to finish the job after Cassidy escaped the kidnappers?

She shuddered at that thought. Oh no, no way was she taking on that responsibility. Uh-uh.
You wouldn’t ask me to do that, would You, God? Please don’t ask me to do that.

Amy choked back a sob and decided she needed a distraction. Not only had she been thinking about Micah nonstop ever since their dash through the jungle, she’d been thinking about the fact that she had family somewhere in this country. Could she find them? And if she were to go on a search for relatives, where did she start?

Thinking it through, she decided she could start with the names she had. As far as where, she knew that her mother’s picture had been on the wall of the police station as recently as two years ago. It could still be there. If so, she could ask questions. Juanita Morales, Amy’s mother, had been born in the slums of Brazil and sold into prostitution by her older brother. She’d finally managed to escape to the United States, where she’d studied how the rich lived and learned well. She’d changed her name, married a senator and life was good.

Unfortunately, it had been when she’d found out her husband was broke that she’d turned to a life of crime, a life she was intimately familiar with—human trafficking. Only a few months ago, Amy had learned the truth of her mother’s background after she’d discovered incriminating information on her mother’s computer, implicating her in Micah McKnight’s disappearance. Through a fluke, while on a mission here in Tefe, Brazil, Micah had discovered the woman’s true identity and e-mailed a copy of the wanted poster to Amy’s father. Before the man had a chance to open the e-mail, her mother had confiscated it and set her evil plan in motion. She’d set Micah up to die, betraying two teams of SEALs, one of them Micah’s team.