At the mention of that name, Juan Carlo’s face darkened and his smile faded into a sneer. He strolled back to where Leah sat—she froze, dropped her fingers from the working of the knot. Juan Carlo removed his gun from the back of his pants and casually held it up to Leah’s head.
“Oh shit,” she whimpered, and closed her eyes. This was it. This was the end. She was never going to be a real actress, she was going to die in some mouse-infested stupid cabin because he didn’t know anything about guns, and it was all Michael’s fault.
“Juan Carlo, come on,” Michael said, reading her fear. “You hate guns. Ironic for an arms dealer, I know, but true.”
“Be careful, Michael Raney. You play with fire.”
“Put the gun down. I don’t have your damn key,” Michael said again. “The last person to have it was Maribel.”
Juan Carlo sighed and lowered his gun. Leah opened her eyes. Juan Carlo had moved to lean against the bureau, his legs crossed at the ankles, his arms folded across his chest, and the gun dangling from one hand. He was studying Michael closely.
Leah took the opportunity to ask, “Who is Maribel? Is that your wife?” Neither man so much as looked at her. “Listen, you two, you dragged me into this—the least you can do is tell me what the deal is with this key and who Maribel is and what is going on!”
Juan Carlo shifted his gaze to her and regarded her curiously. “Women,” he said, shaking his head. “At the door of death, and still, she would have the gossip.”
Okay, that was it. Leah started fidgeting with the knot at her back with a vengeance and looked at Michael, who actually scowled at her, as if she was bothering him with her questions. “Just relax, Leah. I’d rather not get into it right now.”
“Of course not!” Juan Carlo bellowed, and suddenly stomped out of the room, into the kitchen, the gun swinging wildly with his gait. “You cannot admit to her the sort of man you really are,” he shouted from the kitchen as Leah frantically worked at the knot. “You would have her think you are a decent man, but you are not.” He reappeared in the bedroom, holding the wine, a gun, and three wineglasses. “That is the beginning of your problem, si?” he said to Michael. “You cannot be entirely honest with those you love.”
The truth in that statement made Leah snort, and both men turned to look at her. “What?” she asked, and looked at Michael. “Well? It’s true. You’re not very good at telling the whole story.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” he asked incredulously. “We’re not going to sit here and have a discussion about our relationship now, are we?”
“I’m just saying,” Leah said.
Michael groaned, then inched his way into an almost sitting position and looked at Leah intently. “Putting aside, for a moment, that everything coming out of this asshole’s mouth is a load of shit, Leah—let’s keep it real here. Sometimes you don’t make it very easy for me to be completely and totally honest.”
“Me?”
“Ah, and the words coming from your mouth are pure, no?” Juan Carlo interjected with a snort of incredulity. “You are a liar and a thief.”
“Jesus, Juan Carlo, will you stop taking everything so personally?” Michael demanded. “Think about it—terrorists like you tend to have agents like me on your ass. That’s our world. It’s what we call business.”
“You fuck my wife and call it business?” Juan Carlo bellowed.
Leah stretched her fingers wide for a moment. “See? You slept with his wife!”
“He took my wife to his bed many times to get close to me,” Juan Carlo said with a wave of his hand. “She gave him all our money—” He suddenly whipped around and glared at Michael. “And she gave you a key. Where is the key, se?or? Give me the key, and this one shall walk free, I give you my word.”
“A key to what? Her heart?” Leah asked acidly, her own heart perilously close to sinking.
But Juan Carlo and Michael surprised her by snorting simultaneously. “Maribel doesn’t actually have a heart,” Michael added.
Surprisingly, Juan Carlo nodded in agreement. “She is a hard woman, this is true.”
“So what key?” Leah shrieked with frustration.
“A key to a safe,” Juan Carlo clarified.
“What’s in the safe?”
“None of your concern!” Juan Carlo cried. “But the key belongs to me.”
Michael shrugged and lay down. “Ask your wife.”
“I have asked her and she told me you took it!” he roared, his face getting very red, the veins popping out. “You had no right to take it from me!”
“I had no right?” Michael shot back. “You were arming terrorists whose aim was to use those missiles to hit the United States. That gave me the right. Your own government gave me the goddam right!”
Juan Carlo clucked his tongue as if Michael was being petulant and smiled at Leah. “That is what he says. But who knows the truth? He is not honest even with you, and you do not sell arms.”