Aussie Rules (24 page)

Probably a naked night. Sweaty, too, with what would undoubtedly be myriad orgasms, all in a delicious, delirious blur.

Her body tightened in anticipation at his knowledge of her body and all he could do to it, and how easily he could do it, but she knew another morning after would kill her.

She wasn't so good at this casual-sex thing. It lingered in her mind, messed with her heart and soul, affecting her job, her everything.

How was it going to feel when he finally left?

Plus, they had a mission here. Find Sally once and for all. Figure out what the hell was going on so that Bo could get on with his life and Mel with hers.

The thought brought a pang to her heart but in the long run, it was for the best. She wasn't a happily-ever-after sort of woman. She'd never dreamed of a white wedding dress and kids all around her. All she had dreamed of was flying, and she had that.

There was no need for more, she reminded herself as they deboarded and headed through the small airport and toward an old, beat-up rental car. The sun was bright and bloody hot above, but Bo stopped Mel next to the car. They had a map, they knew where they were headed, so she looked at him impatiently.

“You okay?” he asked.

She stared up into his face, his lean jaw, his unsmiling mouth, at those green eyes that had seen so much. There was genuine concern there, and for a moment she let herself think…Maybe they could make something of this…“If we find her here, what's going to happen to her?”

“I want her to stop threatening you.”

“And…?”

“And I want answers on what happened all those years ago.”

“And…?”

“And…” He shrugged. “And then I'll accept it and move on.”

To Australia. He didn't say it, he didn't have to. His home country was an innate part of the man.

“Australia isn't that far away, you know,” he said quietly.

She laughed. “Are you kidding? It's on the other side of the world.”

“We could—”

“No,” she said flatly.

“You don't even know what I was going to say.”

“That you'll e-mail? Call? Fly to come see me a couple times a year? Not going to work for me.”

He looked as if maybe he was going to press her about it, but she brushed past him and headed for the driver's seat.

He grabbed her by the back of the shirt. “I'm driving.”

“Why?” she asked. “Because you have the dick?”

“And the balls, mate. Let's not forget the balls.”

“You got to fly all the way here.”

She had him there, and she got behind the wheel. He was both a good sport and a good navigator so he got them to the
El Pelicano Blanco
in no time.

At night the building might have passed for a bar but by day it was nothing more than a dive. A few dead trees spotted the lot. The windows had no glass, just boards. The front door was open wide, and from within came the strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes.

To the left of the front door was a public telephone booth, no bench or phone book, just a beat-up-looking telephone.

Mel and Bo looked at each other. Had Sally called from right there?

A woman swept the dusty floors inside, a chicken at her heels following her like a dog. She looked up when Bo and Mel stepped inside and shook her head.
“No servicio.”

“Do you speak English?” Bo asked.

“No.”

Mel began to flip through the English-to-Spanish book she'd bought at the airport, muttering, “How do you ask if she knows Sally?”

Bo rattled off something in Spanish, and Mel stared at him. “You speak Spanish?”

“Enough to get by.”

“Enough to get by,” she repeated to herself. “You might have mentioned.”

Bo said something else to the woman, sounding quite fluent.

“Ah, sí,”
she said, and followed with more quick-paced dialogue.

“You catching any of this?” Mel asked Bo out of the corner of her mouth.

“Shh.”

Damn it, she hated when he shushed her, but he was listening intently, clearly having to concentrate, so she decided not to kill him. At least not right then.

Bo said something with Sally's name in it, then turned to Mel. “Show her the picture.”

Mel pulled out a photo she'd brought of Sally standing in front of the sign of North Beach, smiling.

The woman's eyes locked on Sally, and hardened. “Rosario,” she said. “Rosario Lopez.”

Bo's gaze met Mel's for one beat before turning back to the woman. “You know her?”

The woman's eyes were flashing good now. “Rosario,
sí.
” She turned her head and spit on the ground.

“I take it they're not old friends,” Mel murmured.

The woman pointed to both of them, then to her eye, then back at them, saying without words that she was watching them, then left the room.

“That's probably not good,” Mel said. “I think she just put a curse on us.”

“Or something.” Bo took her arm and pulled her toward the front door, but before they got there, the woman was back with a man, a big man who was growling, fierce-looking, and…

Gulp
.

Carrying a gun.

“Fuck,” Bo said softly, then tried to shove Mel out the front door ahead of him, stopping short at the very audible click of a gun cocking.

Together they slowly turned back.

The man jerked the gun toward them and spit out something in rapid-fire Spanish.

Bo raised his hands. “Raise 'em slowly,” he said softly to Mel while the man raved on and on in Spanish, eyes bulging, practically foaming at the mouth. “Let's not piss him off any more than we already have.”

Mel's heart was in her throat, pounding so hard she was shocked she could still hear anyone speak at all as the man railed on and on in loud, staccato Spanish.

The woman barely came up to his shoulder. She was trying to get his attention by tugging on his sleeve, but he was still yelling, gesturing with the gun pointed right at Bo and Mel, having gone berserk.

The woman stomped her foot but that didn't get the man's attention, either. Finally she poked him in the highest place she could reach well.

His belly.

With a roar, he turned to her.

“Let them speak,” she said in perfect but heavily accented English.

“Hey,” Mel said. “You said you couldn't speak English.”

“Ixnay on the arguingkay,” Bo murmured as the woman and the man had turned on each other now, furious, yelling at each other in Spanish.

“She doesn't want him to kill us,” Bo said quietly, translating. “I think she's my new best friend.”

The woman actually reached in and snagged the gun, turning it around, pointing it at the man, jabbing him with the loaded thing still cocked, trying to get him to go back to the kitchen.

The man balked and she jabbed him again, right in the ass.

He started moving, but not before glaring at Bo and Mel. If looks could kill, they'd be six feet under, but finally, he vanished into the kitchen.

Or the rock under which he'd come from.

Mel let out a sigh of relief, until the woman once again leveled the gun at them. “What do you want?” she demanded in her accented English. “Why do you come here looking for that woman?”

“She gave you trouble?” Bo asked.

“Trouble?
Trouble?
She destroyed my brother!” She lifted her chin and the gun. “And if you are her people, I will destroy you back.”

“How did she hurt your brother?” Mel asked, but Bo lowered the arm closest to Mel, setting it across her middle, trying to push her behind him.

“We're not Rosario's people,” he assured the woman.

“Bo—”

“You,” the woman said to Mel with a fierce scowl and a jab of the pistol. “Be quiet. Keep talking,” she said to Bo.

“She stole from my father. Then vanished. Now some threats are being made, and we want to find her.”

“She's not here, I ran her out.”

“How long ago?”

“A few days.”

“Do you know where she went?” Mel asked from behind Bo, frustrated when he wouldn't let her out from there.

“If I knew,” the woman said chillingly, “she would no longer be breathing.”

Mel swallowed hard.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Bo asked.

“She came here crying
poor American woman, lost in Mexico
. She told us she'd been taken by a man who'd fooled her into giving him her property, everything. She was so devastated, so sad. And willing to work hard. So we let her stay, we even gave her work at our airstrip running the radio.”

Mel gaped, then stared at Bo, who looked at her, eyes and mouth grim.

“My brother fell for her,” the woman continued. “She claimed to fall for him, too. Lies, all lies. But we did not know that then. She got him to marry her, then broke his heart.”

“How?” Mel whispered.

“By stealing his money, and the deeds to his properties.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Last year. After she left, she sold the properties, and now we're little more than laborers in our own place.”

Mel had been sweating but now she went cold. “A year ago?”

“
Sí
. We hadn't seen her in all that time but she came back just last week, where she tried to buy my silence. With my brother's own money!”

From the kitchen came the sound of breaking glass, as if someone had just tossed down a dish in anger.

The woman's eyes hardened. “I should have killed her. Instead, I hit her with my broom, batted her right out of here. I won't be so kind next time.”

“Are you sure she stole—”

The woman aimed the gun between Mel's eyes, then squeezed the trigger, at the last minute lifting her hand so that the bullet bounced off the ceiling and toward the floor, lodging into one of the tables.

Mel began to sweat.

“I am sure,” she said.

Bo shoved Mel behind him again, keeping his eyes right on the woman. “I'm sorry,” he said evenly. “Terribly sorry that you got hurt, too. But we want to find her. We want to stop her from doing this again to anyone else.”

The woman nodded. Mel simply reeled. Sally had been here. She'd done these terrible things, eerily close to what Bo said she'd done to Eddie. It was all true, and suddenly so overwhelming she could hardly stand it. She didn't realize she'd staggered a step backward until Bo's hand came up to grip her arm, giving her his strength.

Sally had stolen from this woman, from her brother.

From Eddie.

Deep down Mel had already begun to know this, to understand, but it didn't make it any easier to take.

“She is evil,” the woman hissed.

“I'm very sorry for your loss,” Bo said quietly. “But we want to help.”

Mel stared into Bo's eyes, and knew he meant it. There would be no mercy for Sally if they caught her. And if she was guilty, she deserved none.

God, Sally, what have you done?

Bo pulled out a business card from his pocket, handed it to the woman. “If you see her again, call me. Collect.”

The woman looked down at the card. “I want my brother's money back.”

“If I find her, and there's still money, you'll get it back,” he promised.

The woman studied him for a long moment, then, much to Mel's relief, lowered the gun and nodded. “Go, then.”

They didn't have to be told twice. Outside, the harsh sun had Mel blinking but Bo grabbed her hand and pulled her quickly to the car. He shoved her into the passenger side and she decided not to argue that he got to drive because truthfully, she didn't think she could keep them on the road while shaking like a little poodle.

“Delayed shock,” he murmured, and pulled her seatbelt across her shoulder for her. “You'll be okay.”

“I know.” The sun streamed in the windows, baking them. Mel swiped the sweat on her forehead with her arm, not breathing until they were out of sight of the bar.

“Mel.”

Feeling a bit numb, she stared out the window, realizing several minutes had gone by, and that Bo had pulled off the road a bit, and they sat on some deserted stretch of highway.

A million miles from absolutely nowhere.

“She's probably using a different alias now,” she said in a voice that seemed to come from far away. “If we can get that name, maybe we can catch up with her.”