Authors: P. R. Garlick
And in your bed later, Liane thought, but remained silent, not
wanting to antagonize him after he had promised to help. Right now,
he seemed the only person who could help her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Liane looked again at the address written on the slip of paper.
It matched the one on the door of the huge house she was about to
enter. Compared to others she had seen since arriving in this city, this
one was a mansion.
One thing for sure, Juanita isn't exactly from the
poor side of town.
Without anymore hesitation, she mounted the
steps.
Liane was pleased that her plan had worked and the
auburn-haired Juanita had turned up at her last show that evening.
Now, again dressed as Mary Catherine, she hoped she'd get the
information she needed. There was no longer any doubt in her mind
that her brother was in big trouble.
"Yes, may I help you?" An older woman in a gray and white
maid's uniform asked when she opened the door to find Liane
standing there.
"I'm here to see Juanita," Liane told the maid. "She's
expecting me."
The expressionless woman guided her down a long hallway
before opening a door off to the side. The woman entered first, saying
something in Spanish.
There was a feminine reply, then the woman nodded for Liane
to enter the room.
Liane stepped into the room and immediately found the person
she was looking for standing in front of a large mahogany desk. She
quickly sized up the immaculately dressed, older woman. Her auburn
hair was now pulled back off her long neck in a tight bun, adding
severity to her appearance. She seemed to possess a self-assurance
Liane hoped she could match. She knew she'd have to draw upon her
every skill as an actress.
"I believe you requested my presence as soon as I could get
here," Liane said. "I assumed you hadn't meant for me to wait until
morning."
Juanita's dark eyes scanned her with obvious surprise. "I did
not expect you . . .to be dressed like a . . ."
"A nun? But why not, since I am one." Liane interrupted with
a false smile, not once leaving down her guard. "I'm sorry if I shocked you. It was meant as no trick . . .at least not to you. May I come
inside and explain?"
"Certainly," Juanita stepped away from her desk. "We will go
in here." She motioned to another doorway that led into an elegant
looking sitting room.
"You see, I got nowhere asking questions while dressed as
myself. It seems these days, no one is willing to confide in a member
of the Order." Liane turned again to look at the woman, stopping as
she heard a deep laugh coming from within the room.
She stiffened, instinctively knowing who it was. Turning
quickly, her angry green gaze darted to the bearded man standing in
the far corner of the room. He raised a glass of amber liquid as if in a
mock toast to her.
"You!" She hissed in open hostility before turning back to the
other woman. "I didn't expect anyone else. I preferred our discussion
to be in private!"
"So did he, I believe," the woman replied coolly. "It seems he
was also about to make me an offer, but I suggested he wait for a bit
longer."
As she spoke Juanita walked to the liquor cabinet and poured
herself a drink. "I would offer you something, but . . ." Her eyes
deliberately scanned Liane's habit. "Are you allowed such things in
your country?"
"Some white wine, please," Liane said, uncaring what they
thought. At the moment she could use something stronger, but wine
would have to do.
"I thought it would be interesting to see the two of you
together," Juanita said almost cattily. "Which of you would like to
begin?"
"I'm here to find my brother." Liane didn't give the man a
chance to speak as she began her plea. "I believe you know him, Jack
. . .Spence Jackson." She met the man's brown eyes in challenge as
she remembered the name her brother used. "You seem quite fond of
his nightclub act."
"And what makes you think I can tell you where he is?"
"We have good reason to think you can," Marshal replied for
Liane. "So please spare us your pretense."
"We . . .?" The woman's dark eyes narrowed. "So you are
together as I suspected in the first place."
"I just met . . ." Liane began, but stopped as she saw the
warning look the man gave her. "Mr. Marshal after my brother's
disappearance. But he has kindly agreed to help me find Spence."
"Yes, who better than your brother's partner, and fellow
soldier-of-fortune. Tell me, has he required a price for this
assistance? Or is he doing it out of the goodness of his heart?"
"I'm doing it because Jackson is my partner. Whoever
abducted him wants something. I'm prepared to arrange they get it."
"How do I know I can trust you?" Juanita did not bother to
hide her obvious distrust of this man.
"You have no choice," Marshal stated coolly. "We have what
you want."
The woman paced the floor a moment before turning to face
them again. "What proof do I have that you can give me what I want?
Originally you claimed that only Jackson knew where everything is
hidden."
The man smiled. "As I recall, you didn't believe me. Why
else have you been trying so hard to get me to talk? Last night your
persuasive friends were very disappointed when my
new partner
assisted in my escape."
"Tell me now, where you and Jackson have hidden the
merchandise!" Juanita ordered, her eyes cold as steel as she held
Marshal's gaze.
"No!" Liane interrupted their exchange. "I want to see my
brother first.
Before we tell you anything."
"Yes, and it would be better if we dealt with the top man on
something of this importance," Marshal added. "I see no reason why
we should go through the lower echelon."
Liane suppressed a gasp. She didn't care who they dealt with
as long as they found Jack. Marshal's bold statement and sarcasm
could ruin everything for them. She was afraid he would anger this
woman to the point they'd both be headed for trouble.
Juanita's face flushed as her eyes narrowed coldly. "It is
I who
you will deal with," she hissed.
"Okay, if that's how it is . . ." Marshal took Liane's hand and
started toward the doorway.
"Wait!" the woman called after them. "I must make a
telephone call." With that she turned to the other door and returned to
the office, leaving them alone in the room.
Liane waited for the door to the office to close behind Juanita
before turning to her companion. "You stupid . . ." She fought to
regain her control. "What are you trying to do?"
"I think I know a little more about handling these people than
you do. Trust me."
"Trust you!" Her eyes shown emerald bright. "You . . . you . .
." Her shoulder's sagged as a sigh escaped her lips.
"There's no one else, so you may as well accept the situation,"
he nearly whispered, running his fingers roughly through his hair.
"All I want to do is find Jack. I'm not certain you can say the
same. She called you a soldier-of-fortune. If you are a mercenary,
there could be more in this if you don't find him."
His brown eyes turned nearly black as he rounded on her.
"You can think what you want! But I'll remind you of one thing. I
didn't have to go through all this hassle with these people to gain a
thing. The information you have could make me a very wealthy man."
"Then you don't know . . ."
"Jack and I planned it that way. He was supposed to stay in
the States. Then he disappeared."
"But . . ."
"Shut up," he said quickly. "She's returning. And let's both
hope she doesn't just decide to gain the information the same way she
did last night. I have my doubts you'd hold up to it."
I didn't think of that.
Liane's eyes grew wide.
"If they ask, we need to find Jack because he is the only person
who knows where their stuff is stashed."
"But I already told . . . " She stopped as she heard Juanita
reenter the room.
"It will be impossible for you to meet with my employer," the
woman stated when she entered the room. "Unless we have proof that
you have what we want."
"Would you like that in gold, silver,
POTTERY or green?"
Liane asked, knowing there was no way she could produce the
contents from her brother's hidden room; but she had brought some of
the money.
She heard Marshal's exhaled breath and didn't have to look at
him to know he was unhappy with her statement.
The woman's eyebrows raised. "I would like to see some of
these things of which you speak."
"And we would like to see Spence Jackson," Marshal said in
return. "
First."
"I will be in touch," the woman stated, then turned for the
door. "Now, if you will please . . ."
Liane knew they were being dismissed, yet she didn't want to
go. She wanted to make this woman tell her where she could find her
brother. She looked up at the man beside her and noted how calmly
he accepted things as they were. Yet there was nothing easy-going
about the way he held her arm as he guided her from the room.
Behind his cool facade, she suspected there was more. She'd
have to stick close to him and find out exactly what he did have on his
mind.
"Where do we go now?" she asked when they stepped outside.
"We..." He turned with a grim smile. "I'm going to tell you
one thing as clearly as I can. There is no we!"
"That's what you think. I know where the money is."
"And apparently where the rest of the stuff is hidden." He
looked more serious. "Yet you said you haven't seen your sister."
"I told you we spoke on the phone. She told me then. She
found the items you were talking about. So I know more than you
think."