Betrayed (26 page)

Read Betrayed Online

Authors: Jeanette Windle

Tags: #Retail, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Fiction

 

But this was a vastly different panorama. Replacing the acrid smell of burning garbage was a fresh, moist fragrance that spoke of growing things and life. With nightfall the mist had crept down the mountain to pool gray and thick at Vicki’s feet so she could make out no suggestion of the pool and treetops she knew to be below her. But the roar of water and spray reaching her face pinpointed where the falls crashed down to her left. Far ahead above Lake Izabal, with neither mist nor smoke to cloak them, stars splashed luminous patterns across the night while other twinkling constellations marked villages along the lake.

 

It was all undeniably beautiful, and though for a moment—an eternity—familiar panic welled up to choke Vicki, racing through her heart, pounding at her temples, this time she thrust it away. Breathing deeply of the night’s sweetness, she listened to the rushing music of the falls. An orchestra of tree frogs offered counterpoint, and somewhere nearby a wakeful bird added a flutelike soprano.

 

The smells, the sounds, the mist drifting damp across her face were all so
right
that a tight, hard knot that seemed to have been there all her life loosened in Vicki’s chest. Sliding to a sitting position, she hugged her knees.

 

This really
was
her father’s world.

 

"
This is my Father’s world
."

 

Which was it? Or could it be both?

 

Vicki raised her eyes to the stars jeweled across the night’s black velvet.
God, are You really out there? No, I know You’re out there. But are You listening to me? Do I matter enough for You to look through all this and see me? I know it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to You. I remember I used to. At Sunday school and bedtime prayers. Even when I was afraid, I prayed. I still believed You were out there, and if I prayed hard enough, You’d hear me and change things
.

 

Yes, she had prayed. When had she stopped? She couldn’t even remember.

 

I guess it was when I grew up and realized the world wasn’t going to get better no matter how hard I prayed. It was all so out of control and so ugly. I forgot how beautiful You’d  made it. I forgot all this that I must have loved once upon a time
.

 

I still don’t get it. All this up here—this is Your world. This is You. The beauty, the peace. But down there where those lights are—no, not even that far—people are hurting and dying. Other people are doing the hurting and getting away with it. And I feel so helpless to do anything about it. I couldn’t save my sister or my parents. I can’t save the world. I know that’s supposed to be Your job, but I don’t see it happening
.

 

This time it wasn’t cold or panic shaking Vicki until she wrapped her arms tight around her body, but a grief that tore at her heart so that she didn’t think she could bear it. Not just for her own loss nor for Holly but for an entire world that seemed to be crying out with her in pain.

 


That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the Ruler yet
.”

 


Do what is right. Do not give way to fear
.”

 

Is Joe right, God? Is Evelyn right? Is there something You’re doing that I’m missing? Something that’s worth all this?

 

No audible answer came. But the stars twinkled down. The mist laid soft, comforting fingers across Vicki’s hot face. The sweetness of the air seeped deep into her lungs, bringing with it a calm she didn’t even recognize as the beginnings of peace.

 

Vicki had no idea how long she’d sat there when she heard raised voices, then saw the bobbing of lights approaching on the path behind her. She climbed stiffly to her feet and jumped behind an oak trunk as a dozen laughing shapes crowded out onto the rock outcropping. The volunteer team coming down for a night swim in the hot spring.

 

Vicki waited unmoving until they had disappeared down the rock face into the mist. Then she hurried back up the path.

 

 

With tight self-control, he restrained from slapping the fat, satisfied face in front of him. “Your men are undisciplined
idiotas
. Do you realize what they could have done? The orders were not to fire without express authorization.”

 

The man in uniform lounging in front of the command tent slammed a bottle of golden Palo Viejo rum down on the crate beside him. “We had no knowledge who was on board. Only that the plane was unidentified and circling low. It seemed we would be seen. Are my men not to defend themselves?”

 

“Defend—?” He cut himself off with gritted teeth, forcing himself to explain patiently, “You cannot be seen from above. That was the purpose of our exercise. I myself have tested it. As for the plane, I personally delivered the description and call numbers. If your men follow my instructions, there should be no need for further bloodshed. Is it understood?”

 

He stood up to go. “I cannot protect you forever. One more month, and then it is over.”

 

The fat face showed neither concern nor apology as a hand reached again for the rum bottle. “This time.”

 
 

 

 

Chapter Twenty

 

Joy comes in the morning.

 

Standing on the rock outcropping, Vicki wasn’t sure from where those words had come. But they seemed fitting to a sunrise over Lake Izabal, the gray of waves and sky lightening through pale green to pink and orange, stray tendrils of dawn tinting the pooled mist below to rose.

 

The warmth of the thermal pool was as delicious as Alison had promised. With lightness of step, Vicki headed up the path, rubbing her hair dry, as a clanging bell signaled the beginning of the day’s schedule.

 

In this place animal needs took precedence over human. Vicki pitched in filling bowls with diced fruit or meat scraps. Buckets of water from
Pozo Azul
sluiced the concrete cage flooring, the water system having chosen this morning to go on the blink. The center cook Maria didn’t arrive this early from the village so other volunteers set out fruit, bread, and coffee for the team’s breakfast.

 

Cesar, on the other hand, was already hard at work. Popping into the clinic to pick up some forms, Vicki found the young veterinarian measuring medications into plastic cups. Behind him, an open door revealed a crumpled cot and tossed clothing in a space that made Vicki’s room seem palatial. Though she too would have chosen a storage closet to the locker-room atmosphere of the barracks.

 

Animal and human breakfast over, Vicki found her translation skills in demand as the volunteers huddled together with the camp administrators, Rosario and Beatriz, over a cage improvement project. They were marking off a less constricted enclosure for the wild cats when Bill’s pickup pulled into the cul-de-sac.

 

“Now we will have water again.” Rosario hurried over to the pickup as Bill and Joe got out. The three men were disappearing around the main building when it occurred to Vicki that Joe had never turned up at the center after yesterday’s adventure.

 

As the planning session broke up, she drifted back to the concrete water tower. Rosario and Joe were bent over a bundle of plastic piping that ran up the mountainside to the stream. Bill stood watching.

 

Vicki joined him. “Hey, did that army thing take all night? Or doesn’t Joe stay here with the rest of the center staff?” A recollection jumped to her mind. “Wait a minute. You said ‘we’ yesterday when you invited me to drop by your house.”

 

“That’s right. Joe’s bunking with me.” Bill looked at Vicki. “And to clarify a certain misapprehension, Joe likes to refer to himself as the center handyman, but he’s actually employed by me. I’ve got a number of odd jobs he’s working on at my place. However, since the center is my principal project at the moment, I’m happy to make his services available here anytime they’re needed. Just as I’ve made my plane available.” He nodded toward Joe, climbing a metal ladder up the side of the water tower. “He can fix—and fly—just about anything.”

 

“Yeah, well, maybe working for the center sounds more professional on his résumé.”

 

 Not that Joe seemed the type to care what anyone called him.

 

“Vicki! Beatriz is looking for you.”

 

Heading indoors to the office, Vicki wrote out the chore assignments in English, then wandered over to the animal enclosures. The rising sun had burned away the mist. A half-grown tapir thrust its long snout through the mesh to sniff at Vicki. Wandering farther to chatter with a spider monkey, she untangled her hair from the grasp of an adorable baby coatimundi. Down the path volunteers were hammering in stakes for the new cat run.

 

I could get used to this
. That tranquil thought was shattered by a roar of engines. Screeching and cawing and howling erupted around her. Chittering its terror, the baby coatimundi scuttled into its sleeping shelter. Then human yells joined the animal uproar.

 

Sprinting up the path, Vicki pressed her lips together with annoyance to see the cloud of dust hanging over an army transport truck and Jeep parked in the cul-de-sac. A dozen troops—UPN, by the khaki uniforms and berets—spilled out of the truck. As they fanned through the center and into the main building, their thudding boots and shouts sent the animals into an even noisier frenzy.

 

Vicki marched over to the Jeep. “Michael, what’s going on? You said you’d be dropping by this morning. You didn’t say anything about bringing half the army with you.”

 

He swung down from the Jeep. Beside him, Vicki recognized her captor from yesterday, Colonel Alpiro. The Guatemalan commander’s glance was appraising and cold before he turned his back to issue orders to his men.

 

Michael’s smile was warm enough to make up for it. “Hi, Vicki. I trust you slept well after yesterday.” He winced as the sounds of excited animals rose to a new pitch. “This is quite a place. Is it always this noisy?”

 

“Only when your soldiers are scaring the animals out of their wits. Can you make them stop before they drive one of the poor things into a heart attack? What’s going on anyway? What is it with the escort?” Vicki repeated with exasperation.

 

Michael murmured something in Alpiro’s ear. He in turn snapped out a loud order and walked away.

 

Michael faced Vicki. “What’s going on, my dear, is that I’ve been busy since our encounter yesterday. You’ll be happy to hear that after the run-in, the powers that be have agreed not only to reopen your sister’s investigation but assign it high priority.”

 

Vicki ignored the warm glow of that
my dear
. “But you don’t think yesterday had anything to do with Holly? I thought they said it was just some poacher.”

 

Michael looked amused. “We have no idea. That’s the point of an investigation—to eliminate those possibilities. That doesn’t mean Chief of Police Alvarez is admitting you were right. Only that they’re willing to explore the possibility. Or rather let UPN explore it since the options are pretty basic. Either your sister was a victim of street crime or her death was somehow involved with her work with WRC and the nature reserve. Which puts it under the jurisdiction of the Environmental Protection Unit.”

 

“And all of this?”

 

Whatever order the UPN commander had given, the truck and Jeep engines abruptly died, the running boots and shouts gradually quieting. As the dust cloud settled, so did the panicked noise of the animals. But there were still men everywhere, and now from upstairs in the living barracks, Vicki could hear angry German.

 

 “Well, again, you’ve been granted what you asked for. After reviewing the case files, Colonel Alpiro is in agreement. If there’s more to be uncovered about Holly’s death, the key lies in that missing PDA. Since the Guatemala City police didn’t consider it relevant, no serious search was ever made for it. Alpiro has ordered it to be done now.”

 

At Vicki’s involuntary sound of dismay, Michael asked, “What is it? I thought you’d be ecstatic.”

 

“No, you’re right. I’m the one who asked for this. It’s just . . . ” Vicki grimaced. “The volunteers aren’t going to be too happy with your people rummaging through their stuff. Or me if they find out I’m responsible. I don’t get why Alpiro’s searching here either. Isn’t it more likely Holly took that PDA with her? For that matter, how do we know those police who smashed up my room didn’t steal it?”

 

“Which is precisely why the center hostel is being searched at this same minute. Believe me, this isn’t the first time Alpiro—or I—have organized a search. As for your neighborhood patrol, they’ve been picked up for questioning too. Though if they were going to steal instead of smash, they’d have taken the computer gear with them. Alpiro has given strict orders to deliver all electronics down here. You can go through them yourself and see if you recognize anything. He will organize your interviews as well.”

 

Michael added, “You’ve forgotten you asked to have anyone acquainted with Holly questioned as to what she might have been doing or confided?” He gestured to a unit of soldiers—no, police—herding the camp administrators into the thatched shelter where Colonel Alpiro was already at a table.

 

“Of course. I’ve been trying to do all that myself, but I’m sure your police will be able to get more than I can. Oh, Michael, I can’t believe you’ve managed all this. And after all that stonewalling. I can’t thank you enough.”

 

“It’s the right thing to do. I’m just glad I was in a position to help make it happen. Now, come on. I’m sure you’re going to want to get in on these interviews.”

 

Vicki followed Michael over to one of the plastic tables where troops were laying out electronic devices, presumably seized from the barracks upstairs. Vicki noted a PDA lying on the next table.

 

Michael nodded toward it. “Mine. Their sample. They’ve got orders to leave anything else alone.”

 

Behind them, the kitchen shelter was still minus its cook. UPN troops were crowded inside, lifting every item, emptying containers of rice and corn flour into pots, then back again. They were showing commendable care, even putting things back as they’d been on the shelves.

 

The volunteers were being herded into the community shelter too. Vicki didn’t need to know German to see how angry they were.
I’m just glad they don’t know this is my doing
. Vicki spotted Bill talking quietly to one of the team leaders. Her intervention wouldn’t be necessary. Joe was there too, sprawled out at a table as unperturbed as though waiting for meal service.

 

Then Michael steered Vicki to the table where Colonel Alpiro was interviewing Rosario and Beatriz. His many questions were repeated in any number of variations, but they boiled down to two: “Have you seen the electronic device in question? Did she confide any concern that was troubling her?”

 

However little Vicki had taken to the pair, she could empathize with the anger and nervousness they were visibly holding in check under Alpiro’s implacable scrutiny. Their answers were consistent. Yes, they knew the electronic device in question. No, they hadn’t seen it since Holly left for Guatemala City. Nor had it been in the personal effects they’d packed up for Señor Taylor. Yes, Holly had made some complaints of animals being improperly released or dying in custody, but they’d been able to reassure her from the records that her concerns were misplaced. Rosario looked away at that last statement. But if the camp administrators were being less than truthful about Holly’s concerns, they seemed sincere enough in their protest over the PDA.

 

 The German team had arrived in Guatemala only hours before Holly’s disappearance and had all been strangers to Holly, but that didn’t prevent the UPN commander from interrogating each in turn. Michael handled the translation, his calm English defusing Alpiro’s stern questions. A team leader did any necessary translating to German. Halfway through the lineup even Alpiro seemed to recognize the futility of his questions, confining himself to gathering contact data.

 

Bill and Joe were next, giving their answers directly in Spanish, Bill with bland, unconcerned courtesy, Joe looking openly bored.

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