Take the Money: Romantic Suspense in Costa Rica (22 page)

TWELVE

Memphis South was a couple of miles from the cathedral.  Julie was drenched by the time she walked there and came in out of the rain. The downpour had brought in a larger than usual after-lunch crowd who sat nursing their beers, casting bleary eyes out the water-streaked front window.  Elvis Presley’s Blue Suede Shoes was blowing the place apart.

“Rainy season starting,” Julie heard someone mutter, “think I’ll head North.”

“Or South,” came the lazy answer.

How could these bearded, tattooed, sunburned, middle-aged Americans lead such indolent lives?  Julie still hadn’t discovered the answer to that question.  There were vague allusions to retirement funds and former jobs.  And of course, many of them had foreign employers who weren’t aware of the ways they spent rainy afternoons.

Julie thought of Mom and Jed, always up at the crack of dawn to put in the hours required to collect their monthly paychecks.   That so many intelligent men were able to escape the rat race would strike them as incomprehensible.

  “My God, you look like a drowned rat!”  Nellie came out from behind the bar, shaking her head in dismay. “Don’t you know enough to come in out of the rain, girl?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t hug you.”

“At least let me give you a clean shirt.”  Nellie pulled her into the kitchen and produced a white T-shirt with butterflies scattered across the front.

“You’re lost in it,” she said, "but at least it’s dry.  Now sit down and tell me where you’ve been and what’s going on.”

They perched on bar stools next to a metal counter that doubled as a planning desk. She told Nellie about the episode at the volcano and how Bud had come to her rescue. “What I wonder,” she said, “is how Bud knew that I’d left for Arenal.  I told him I was going, but I didn’t tell him when.”

Nellie said, “I told him.”

“You?   Why did you think Bud needed to know?”

Nellie pressed her thumbs and fingertips together, hesitating before she spoke. “When you told me about David’s drowning, I got kind of suspicious.  It didn’t seem likely it was just an accident.  I was afraid you might run into trouble.”

Julie remembered Bud had known about David’s death. “What was the connection between those two?” she asked.

Nellie looked around the kitchen.  The wait staff hurried back and forth, yelling at the grill cook who was sweating over hamburgers and cursing under his breath.  No one was paying them any attention.

Nellie kept her eyes on the wall and lowered her voice. “David was Bud’s nephew.”

“What?”  Julie shocked response was so loud that Nellie frowned and put a finger to her lips.

“Not everyone knew it.”

“This is crazy, Bud told me he was raised in Indianapolis and his father was Mexican. Anyway, he looks nothing at all like David.  How can this be?”

“Bud’s mom came down here with a mission group and got herself pregnant by a married man--a cowboy in Guanacaste--a
mestizo
.  She went back to Indy and had the baby, but Bud tracked the father’s family down several years ago.  Found out he had aunts and uncles and cousins and brothers and sisters--a whole extended family.  Poor as dirt, I might add.  He took David under his wing and brought him to San Jose for his schooling.”

“Nellie, you’ve only been here a few months.  How come you know all these secrets about Bud?”

“Bud came to me when I first opened the place.  Asked if I’d pass on any useful information I overheard.”

Julie shut her eyes and opened them again, seeing Nellie in a new way. “You mean to tell me you’re a secret agent, too?”

“Lord, no,” Nellie said.  “I just agreed to work with Bud and let him know if I heard about any suspicious things about drug deals, or military plans.  Drugs and war are all tied up together down here.  You can hear a lot if you keep your ears open, especially after the men have had a few beers.”

“Isn’t it kind of dangerous?  Spying like that?  Why would you want to get involved?”

“Why not? I needed any friend I could get.  Anyway, why shouldn’t I help my country? I told you I worked at the Legion Hall. A lot of the men were disabled from serving in the wars. When Bud asked for my help, it seemed like a natural, patriotic thing to do.  In turn, Bud’s done a lot to help me get started.  Like sending you to me that day--knowing that I needed someone who could understand Spanish and speak English.”

“Bud told me David did some work for him, too.  Do you think he was murdered?”

“Possibly.  Bud isn’t sure if it was that, or just an accident.  There’s so much going on around the world and one never knows these days. But I’m afraid you’re still in danger.  Someone left something here for you last night.”

Julie had been about to ask Nellie more about Bud, who he really worked for.  But the look on Nellie’s face sent a chill through her body. “Left something for me?  Who?  Was it Cody?  Did you see him and his sidekick?”

“I didn’t see them, but--.”  Nellie’s eyes went to the door.

“But what?”

“One of my waiters. He brought me something to give you.” Nellie went to the small decorated ox-cart that stood beside the door. Carefully, she lifted off a potted plant, put it on the floor, and extracted something with a chain that sparkled in the light.

Julie steadied herself against the counter top. She doubled over and pressed her arms against her waist.

“You’ve caught cold,” Nellie said.  “Walking in the rain was crazy.”

“It’s not the cold.”   Julie stared at the pendant resting in the center of Nellie’s outstretched palm.  She felt disoriented, as if she were in one of those dreams where the past and the present merge into a puzzling labyrinth.   The pendant didn’t belong here in the kitchen of the Memphis South.  One side was a gold watch with black roman numerals, covered with celluloid.   Julie knew what was on the other side before she turned it over: a small enameled painting surrounded by gold filigree.  It depicted a medieval nobleman with shoulder length hair, a ruffled shirt, and a red plumed hat.  Someone had brought it from Italy years ago and given it to Julie’s mother.  Nothing expensive, but somewhat unique, and always, it elicited comments when Maggie wore it with an open necked blouse. 

No one had ever seen a pendant just exactly like that.   It was always kept on the top shelf of Maggie’s wooden jewelry box, resting comfortably against navy blue velvet.  Now, it was in Costa Rica.  Julie moved her lips silently and told herself it wasn’t the same pendant, it was just a weird coincidence. But she knew better.

Nellie put her arm around Julie’s shoulder. “What is it?” she whispered, “Is it something you lost?”

“Not something I--.” Julie’s throat tightened.  “It belongs to my mother.  Where did the waiter get it?  What did he say?  I have to talk to him right away.”

“He said someone left it for you last night.  A couple of men came in and said to tell you they were going back to the states and--” Nellie bit her lip

“And what?”

“And that you’d better too.”

Julie covered her face with her hands. “They’re going after my mom. That’s what they’re telling me.”

“But why would they hurt your mom?  You’re the one who witnessed the murder.”

Julie stood up and began pacing.

“It’s not just what I saw, Nellie.  There was some money.  My friend gave it to me, but they say it’s theirs.  And they want it back.”

“Jesus.  Drug money?”

Julie nodded. “I suppose you’ll tell Bud.”

“So. All you have to do is give it back, right?”

“Not so simple, I’ve spent some of it--a lot of it, actually.  They might settle for what’s left.”

“But your life will be worthless after they get it.  They want you dead.”

“I can’t worry about that part of it.  Whatever happens, I’ve brought it on myself.   I can’t let them hurt my mom.  For all I know, they’ve got her right now.”

Nellie looked toward the telephone.  “That’s easy to find out, baby.  Just call her.”

Julie said:  “Of course, I have to call her anyway to warn her. It’ll be expensive, I’ll pay you.”

“I know you’ll pay me, now start dialing!”  Nellie tugged on Julie’s arm and pulled her to the phone.

* * *

Julie rested her forehead against the wall for a moment, trying to remember her mother’s area code and telephone number.   But when the operator came on, she heard the numbers coming out of her mouth and they sounded right.

Finally, a static-filled connection was made, followed by a long, trilling sound.  Julie pictured the white cordless phone that sat on the front desk in the hallway; envisioned the slight look of annoyance that surfaced whenever Maggie had to interrupt what she was doing to answer the phone.

“Another telemarketer, I suppose,” Maggie would complain, wiping her hands on a dishtowel as she emerged from the kitchen.  Julie always wondered why they didn’t simply put the land line in the kitchen since that’s where her mother spent a large part of her time.  But it had been on the desk in the hallway when Mom and Jed were married, and on the desk it stayed.

Jed and Mom might not be home, but at least she’d get the answering machine and could leave a message warning them that they were in danger.  The phone rang once, and she braced herself to wait until it had rung five times and the message tape clicked in.  To her relief, Jed answered the phone before it had rung a second time.

“Yes?” His voice sounded unnaturally high, tense.

“Jed.  It’s Julie.”

“Yes?” he repeated. 

What was wrong with the man?  Didn’t he realize who he was talking to? “I need to talk to Mom as soon as possible.  What time is she coming home?”

There was a pause. “I don’t know.” 

Julie slumped against the wall.  “Why?  What happened?”

“Maggie’s been kidnapped by a man who called and warned me that if you don’t get back here with his money, he’s going to kill her.” 

“Oh my God!  I suppose you’ve called the police?”

“Of course I’ve called the police.  Where in the hell are you and what is this all about?  What have you done?”

“The man who called, Jed.  Did he leave a place where he could be reached?”

“No, he didn’t.  Men like that don’t tell you where they are.”

“Well, when he calls back, tell him you’ve heard from me and I’m coming home on the next plane.”

“When?  When are you coming?”

“As soon as I can get on a flight, I’m going straight to the airport.”

“You do that.  Otherwise, you may not see Maggie again.”

Julie’s legs went watery.  She had never heard Jed sound so distraught.  He was supposed to be the rock they all leaned on. She tried to sound confident.  “I’m sorry about this Jed.  But I promise you, I’m coming home immediately and I’ll have what they want.”

“What kind of a mess are you in?”

“Nothing that can’t be remedied. Mom’s going to be fine, don’t worry.”

“Easy for you to say.” Jed’s bitterness and rage came crackling across the telephone wires.  But there was no use letting things escalate into another one of their usual arguments.

“I’ll call you soon,” she told him.  “I have to leave now.”  She hung up without waiting for him to answer.

She turned to Nellie, who was watching her with a worried expression.  “It’s your mom, isn’t it?”  Nellie said.  “Something’s happened to her.”

  “I’ve got to get to the airport.  She’s been kidnapped, they’re holding her hostage till I come back.”

“One of my boys can drive you there.”  Nellie was already summoning one of the waiters, rummaging in a drawer for her car keys.

Adrenaline pumping, heart pounding, Julie picked up her backpack. It was too late to do anything about the check to the Bishop’s Relief Fund; the money was gone.  She’d have to hope they’d settle for what she had.  She’d stop at her rooming house, check out, then go to the bank.  She was almost out the door when something pulled her back.  She couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye.

Nellie gave her a bear hug. “I want to hear from you,” she said in a husky voice.  “Let me know what happens, promise?  Don’t leave me wondering.”

“I promise,” Julie said. “When you see Bud, just tell him I went back to Indiana.”

“Will you ever come back?”

Julie remembered the cool, fresh smell of the air as dawn broke over the mountains in Santa Clara.   The vibrant voices of cicadas joined by the croaking of frogs at twilight.  The scent of flowers.  Oscar and Rosita.  Dancing with Enrique under a velvety starlit sky.   It was beginning to seem like only a dream, and that frightened her.  “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be,” she told Nellie. 

Nellie nodded.  “Just remember, you always have a job here.”

Tears of gratitude blurred Julie’s vision.  “I’ll be in touch,” she called over her shoulder, following the waiter out the door.

Later, after she hassled with the bank to get her money, they drove past the Gran Hotel on the way to the airport. Julie strained her eyes to see if Bud might be sitting at his favorite spot on the loggia.  But she could see only the twirling fans and groups of people clustered around the tables.  She envied the carefree tourists pondering their travel books and planning day trips while they sipped pina colodas or ice tea with lime.