River of Secrets (9 page)

“What’s going on here?”

The chief of police. How had he gotten here so quickly?

“David, thank you for coming so fast.” Anna’s voice. “You must have been close.”

“I was.” Short, sweet and to the point. The man offered no explanation. “What happened?”

“The dunking booth blew up,” Juan rasped. His mind was starting to clear, the shock wearing off as the ringing in his ears settled. He pulled himself into a sitting position, gasping as the fire turned into an inferno in his right side. Focusing on Amy’s blue gaze, he asked, “Was anyone else hurt?”

“Some cuts and bruises, but you took the brunt of it,” Amy’s voice shook. “You scared me to death.”

“Let me go take a look,” David said. Anna led him from the room to show him the way to the mangled booth.

Amy leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

He gave a small laugh, then winced as fire shot through his side. “What for? You didn’t blow up the booth.”

“No, not technically. I was just the tool.” She looked up into his eyes. “You could have been killed.”

“Again.”

“It was some kind of homemade minibomb.” David Ruibero’s voice cut into the conversation as he flipped over the device that looked like old-fashioned dynamite taped together with duct tape. “It was a remote-control deal.” Looking at Micah, he said, “There’s no doubt someone wants you dead—and he knew you’d be up in that booth. There were two of these. I defused this one. The one bomb that went off was actually on the far end of the booth, underneath it. The only way I can figure you survived was that the location and force of the bomb caused an almost ejection-type explosion that caused you to be thrown out and into the air in the opposite direction of the falling booth. You had a hard landing, but at least you still have all your limbs. You’re lucky this one didn’t explode when the other one did. I think one of the wires must have dislodged itself. If this one had gone off, too, you wouldn’t be here with us.”

“Yeah.” Juan touched his side, it felt as if he had cracked a rib or something. “Lucky me.”

Lucas entered the area. “What’s going on?” He looked at Juan. “You again? Good grief, man, I’m going to have to start charging you double.”

Juan grimaced. “Very funny. We both know what double of nothing is.”

“Let me see that side.”

Amy moved aside, concern drawing her eyebrows down, but she bit her lip and kept quiet.

Lucas ended up declaring Juan fine except for a possible cracked rib, but most likely a bruised one, and a sprained hand. He was very lucky, the doctor stated, shaking his head, while taping up Juan’s ribs. “You need to come in for an X-ray.”

“Just tape them tight. If it’s cracked, it’s cracked. Either way, the treatment’s the same.”

Sighing, Lucas asked, “Are you sure you aren’t a cat disguised as a human? You’ve got more lives than anyone I’ve ever come across.”

“You’re just the comedian today, aren’t you?”

“I gotta laugh, buddy, because something tells me unless you catch this person who’s causing all these problems, I’m going to be crying at your funeral.”

Amy caught up with Lucas just as he was getting into his car. “Lucas, wait.”

“Something wrong?” Concern etched his handsome features, but Amy’s mind was totally on one man.

“I haven’t told Micah who he is, yet. I was going to tell him tonight, but now…”

Lucas blew out a sigh. “Why don’t you wait a couple of days, just until he’s feeling a little better physically. I gave him some pain medication, so he’ll probably be out for the rest of the night anyway. I really thought he’d remember on his own by now and he still could, given time, but I know he’d really appreciate you telling him.”

Amy didn’t think Micah would feel grateful at all, probably more like incensed that she’d waited. She sighed, keeping that thought to herself. “Okay. I’ll tell him as soon as he’s recovered a bit. Thanks, Lucas.”

“See you later.”

Amy watched him drive off, relieved for the short reprieve, yet frustrated, too. She’d worked up the nerve to tell him, but now there was a delay. But she would tell him and soon.

The next afternoon, feeling sore, but incredibly grateful to be alive, Juan was back out working on the building against the advice of everyone around him. Finally giving in to pain and the wisdom of resting his rib, he headed back inside. On his way back to his room, he came across Amy and Anna in the hallway outside her office. The two were in a heated debate about something, and Juan wondered if he should keep going or find another route.

As he was trying to decide, Amy said, “I have to go, Anna. Just keep your phone on in case I need some help, okay?” Before Anna could answer or Juan could make his presence known, Amy darted away. Juan clenched his jaw. She was still hiding something, keeping her secrets. It hurt because he thought they’d grown close enough for her to trust him with whatever it was that she needed help with. Enough was enough. What would she need help with? One way to find out. “Anna?”

She turned. Relief flickered briefly in her eyes, then indecision. “Hello, Juan. How are you feeling?”

Her voice sounded forced, stilted, as if she were trying to make conversation while her mind worked on a problem.

“Sore and a little banged up, but otherwise fine. What’s wrong, Anna?”

She bit her lip. An unusual action for this strong woman who seemed unflappable.

He frowned at her. “What’s Amy doing that’s got you worried? Why would she need some help?”

Her eyes flickered, then she gave in and said, “Come into my office and I’ll tell you…but only because I
am
worried.”

Juan followed her into the office to stand just inside the door. He ignored the sound of a horn honking, but at the sound, Anna flew to the window and gasped. “She’s really doing it. She must have called that taxi two hours ago.” She whirled around to face him. “I hate to do this to you, but do you feel up to following Amy? She’s going in to Tefe to meet someone and wouldn’t tell me who, but I get the feeling it’s a dangerous situation. She asked me to keep my satellite phone on in case she needed me. But if she really needs help, my answering the phone isn’t going to do much good. She needs someone with her. I’d ask Romero, but he went over to the medical mission to meet Lucas about something.”

Juan narrowed his eyes, focusing on one word. “Dangerous?”

Anna shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just a feeling. What I do know is that she’s looking for someone whose reputation spells danger. Please, go, before she gets too far ahead of you. Take the new jeep. It’s gassed and ready to go.”

Instead of asking why Amy hadn’t taken the jeep herself, he grabbed the keys from Anna and raced from the building. A sense of urgency pushed him and he found himself praying protection for Amy—and himself.

Amy rode with concentrated silence. She prayed nonstop, asking God to look over her and keep her out of any danger. She honestly didn’t believe anything was going to happen, but no sense going in unarmed.
Therefore, put on the full armor of God, that you may stand strong in the day of evil. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the powers of evil in this present darkness.
The verse from Ephesians chapter six ran through her mind endlessly. Amy knew that what she was doing was probably stupid, and yet she could no more stop herself from going than she could stop breathing. Anna promised to keep her satellite phone on, and Amy had hers fully charged. She’d paid careful attention to that since leaving messages for the McKnights to call her.

She should have asked Micah to come with her. But she didn’t want to chance putting him in danger, especially not now with him still suffering from his latest brush with death. Also, she’d have to explain why she needed him, which meant telling him about her mother, which also meant when he remembered who he was, he’d know immediately who she was and what her mother had done to him. She’d planned to tell Micah who he was yesterday after the picnic, but then the explosion had happened and Lucas told her to wait.

Tomorrow, she promised, she’d tell him first thing. Assuming she made it to tomorrow.
Please, God.

The taxi screeched to a halt, and Amy pulled the money from the back pocket of her jeans. She’d not bothered bringing a purse. No sense in tempting a criminal. Her satellite phone rested snuggly in her other back pocket, and she’d set it to vibrate. No way was she going to end up like one of those dumb chicks in the movies who carried their cell phone to a rendezvous only to have it ring at an inopportune moment.

Of course, she told herself, she was exactly like one of those dumb chicks in the movies who went to meet the bad guy without taking along backup. Amy refused to think about that, reassuring herself that Anna knew where she was and had her phone at hand. Reinforcements were just a button away, and the police department was four blocks south.

Climbing out of the taxi, she watched it drive away and wondered if she should have asked the driver to wait. No, she decided, she had the company number; she’d call another one when she was ready to leave.

Looking around, she shuddered. Ugh. Not the nice part of town, obviously. Slowly, she approached the bar. Even when she’d been a partyer back before she’d turned to God, she’d never frequented the sleazy bars, only the high-class ones—if there was such a thing. But this…
Jesus, I really need you right now.

Darkness had fallen about an hour and a half ago. Dim streetlights led her around the side of the building to the back of the bar where she’d been instructed to go. She stepped slowly, scanning the alley, left then right. Filth lined the area, and she shuddered at the odor of decay, spoiled food and who knew what else.

Her heart pounded, shivers of fear crawled up and down her spine and the hair on her nape stood straight out. She choked down her need to gag as her breathing grew shallow, panting. Nope, this was a very bad idea.
I need to leave, don’t I, God?
Listening to her little inner voice, she spun on her heel, crunching the refuse underfoot as she headed to the entrance of the bar. She’d stand under the brightest streetlamp she could find and call for another taxi.

Behind her, a scrape. She whirled back. Saw nothing. Fear licked along her veins until she thought she’d spontaneously combust. She prayed, claiming God’s promise of protection.

“Maria?” she said softly.

The arm was around her throat before she could blink; the hand across her mouth before she could release the scream trapped in her throat. Her hands flew to grasp her captor’s forearms, his foul body odor mingling with the scent of the rotting garbage.

“What do you want with Maria?” the voice was low, menacing.

Amy shivered, fought the fear, tried to answer, but the hand cut off any sound she might make. She grabbed at it and it loosened. Gasping, she said, “I need to speak with her. I have some questions for her.”

“Leave Maria alone. Do not look for her. If you do, you may find yourself dead,
entenda?
”

Fear smothered her, weakness hit her knees and she struggled to stay upright, not sag against the man behind her. “Please, you don’t understand. Just tell her I want to speak with her. I’m not here to find her to claim any reward or to lead the authorities to her. I just need to talk to her. Just talk. That’s all.”

A knife appeared, the arm tightened across her throat. Amy felt the blackness falling over her. She wheezed, “Maria’s my grandmother.” The arm around her neck jerked, the hand around the knife paused.

And then she was free. She sank to the ground, panting, sucking in air to oxygen-deprived lungs. Trembling seized her, and she shook as though afflicted with palsy.

A scuffle behind her drew her attention, and she saw two men slugging it out. Her captor slid under a light briefly allowing her to catch a glimpse of his round face. The policeman from the other day. Roberto! The man who’d walked in on her talking to the chief and threatened her.

Her rescuer clipped him on the chin and he stumbled, went down, scrabbled away on all fours. Light cut across the second man’s face and Amy gasped.

Micah!

How had he found her? He had the policeman pinned against the wall. Fist clenched, Micah drew his arm back to deliver another punch and Amy screamed, “No, let him go.”

Micah turned to her, caught off guard at her shriek. The other man shoved his hands against Micah’s chest, throwing him off balance, and then slipped away, vanishing in the shadows. Obviously torn between wanting to go after the guy and the desire to check on Amy, he hesitated, pressed a hand to his side and limped to where Amy still sat, her legs unable to hold her weight.

He stooped down and grabbed her by the arms, wincing in pain as he hefted her up. His breath came in short puffs, his words through gritted teeth. “What. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Doing?”

Amy threw her arms around his neck and hung on tight. Sobs broke through, and she let them all out onto Micah’s unsuspecting shoulder.

SEVEN

J
uan held her as she wept. His rib throbbed unmercifully, his hand likewise. Punching her attacker with a sprained hand hadn’t been the best idea, but he’d been short of options. Out of fear for her, he felt like shaking her, but didn’t figure that would help. One meltdown was enough for the night. Patting her shoulder with his right hand, he said, “Come on. Let’s get over to the police department and report this.”

Amy pulled away, scrubbing her eyes and shaking her head. “No, I don’t want to report it. I’m fine. No one got hurt, so let’s just go back to the orphanage and forget this ever happened.”

Juan snorted. “Not likely. Now do you want to do it or shall I?”

“I said I’m not reporting it,” Amy insisted angrily. “Just…trust me on this, okay?” But she would call the chief and tell him he had a traitor on his force. Although, without going into an explanation of how she knew this, he’d probably ignore her. Indecision warred within her.
Oh, God, tell me what to do!

“Give me a reason. Secrets are not a good thing. They can get you killed.” Why those words popped out his mouth, he had no idea, but she blanched and went white, so he assumed they hit home.