108
Janet slipped the end of the key device into the car ignition switch, pressing a button on the side that engaged the tumblers. With a twist of her wrist, the lock turned, sending the engine of the Ford Explorer rumbling to life. God she loved civilization, if you could call Santa Fe, New Mexico, civilization. The place felt like she had been swept back in time five hundred years, the narrow streets of old town Santa Fe certainly never designed for the modern automobile, much less two lanes of traffic.
She was tired, more tired than she had been in weeks. But Jack needed her and so sleep would have to wait. Her first priority was to get herself to a safe spot where she could establish an Internet connection. Then she could uplink the information that would give Jack what he needed to know. After that, well, she would think about that when she got to it.
The baby kicked in her belly. Her baby. Jack’s baby. Janet rubbed her abdomen and smiled. Life had certainly gotten more interesting. What sort of mama would she be? What sort of baby would she have?
There were certainly plenty of people out there trying to make certain that she failed to live to answer those questions. Her hand moved to her hairpin, the narrow spike spinning in her fingers, coming to a stop in her clenched fist, its razor tip glittering in the early evening sunlight.
Fine. She would be ready for them.
109
Jennifer coughed, opened her eyes, then closed them again as pain pounded her skull. The headache made it difficult to think. She just wanted to roll over, pull her covers up around her, and go back to sleep. Then she remembered.
Once again her eyes popped open and this time she kept them open. For several seconds her disorientation made the sights and sounds confronting her unintelligible. She was on some kind of couch, an uncomfortably narrow couch, and there was a loud thrumming in her ears, along with a babble of nearby voices, mostly speaking Spanish. As the fog in her brain cleared, she understood.
She was on an airplane—some sort of small jet. From the spacious layout, it seemed to be some sort of corporate aircraft, certainly different from the personal space afforded by a B-group ticket on Southwest Airlines. Jesus. What had happened to her?
Gently moving her wrists, Jennifer was surprised to find that she was not tied up. A quick personal inventory revealed that, aside from her throbbing head, she had suffered no apparent bodily injury. Indeed, someone had taken the trouble to cover her with a thin blanket.
Jennifer struggled to a sitting position. Seeing her looking around, the redheaded man she had seen as she passed out rose from his seat and moved to sit across from her. His intelligent blue eyes appraised her, simultaneously cold and curious.
“Can I have a drink?” Jennifer asked, her voice coming out as a hoarse croak she barely recognized.
“Certainly,” the man replied, signaling to a young woman who immediately brought a bottle of ice-cold water.
Jennifer drank deeply, finishing the small bottle in several long swallows. When she looked up again, she had managed to establish at least a small degree of calm.
“Who are you? Where are you taking me?”
The redheaded man’s eyes narrowed. “My name is not important. Your next stop is Medellín, but we won’t be landing at the José María Córdova International Airport.”
Jennifer’s eyes widened. “Colombia?”
The redheaded man smiled. “Good girl. So unusual for a girl your age to know her geography. But then you’re a very unusual girl, aren’t you?”
Jennifer worked to get her bearings, but her thoughts were foggy, her senses dulled.
“I don’t understand.”
“Maybe not now, but you will. Se?or Espe?osa is very anxious to meet you.” The man smiled, but his lips held no mirth.
Jennifer felt her throat constrict as a growing terror gripped her. Dear God. What had she gotten herself into?
110
Heather and Mark stepped out of the FedEx Kinko’s twenty-four-hour copy center in Las Vegas with their new IDs in hand. With the right person creating the digital images, the right materials, and a good enough laser printer, it was amazing what you could create. And Heather was the right person. Add an empty copy center and a clerk weighed down with 3:00 a.m. sleepiness and she could work miracles.
Once outside, Mark looked at the driver’s licenses in the light of the bright neon signage. He had to admit that they were good enough to fool anyone who didn’t actually work at the Arizona Department of Motor Vehicles. Robert Foley, age twenty-nine, and his wife Rebecca Foley, age twenty-eight, from Tempe, Arizona.
“Not bad, Mrs. Foley.” Mark grinned, handing the Rebecca Foley ID to Heather. When he looked in her face, it was like looking at an older woman, something that he found strangely erotic. Well, come to think of it, it wasn’t all that strange or unusual.
“Thanks, Robby,” Heather smiled back at him, opening the passenger side door and sliding into the seat.
Mark climbed in and started the car. They had agreed that he would do the driving, since they needed Heather to do her white-eyed savant thing from time to time, an activity that tired her so that she needed sleep. It struck Mark as a little odd, since he no longer needed or desired to waste time in an unconscious state.
“How about that?” Mark asked, pointing to the Super 8 Motel down the block.
Heather nodded. “Looks good to me.”
Mark pulled to a stop under the overhang. “I’ll check us in.”
Although it took several rings on the bell to wake the sleeping desk clerk, he completed the check-in process with no difficulty. Once they had parked and carried their bags to the room, Heather flipped on the light, then paused in the doorway.
“A king-sized bed?”
Mark felt his face redden. “Sorry, he didn’t ask, and I thought he might be suspicious if I asked for two beds. After all, we’re supposed to be married.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll lie on the floor if you want.”
When Heather paused to consider it, Mark continued. “Even though it looks pretty darn uncomfortable.”
“Hey, wait a minute. You don’t even sleep.”
“No, but I rest and I meditate.”
Finally, she shrugged. “Oh, all right. Just make sure you stay on your side.”
“I can’t believe you even think I wouldn’t.”
“Right.”
Mark let Heather shower first before taking his turn. By the time he’d put on a fresh set of clothes and returned to the bedroom, Heather was fast asleep beneath the covers. Mark lay down atop the covers on the other side of the bed, rolling onto his side. As much as he knew he should be thinking about the next steps in their search for Jennifer, he just lay there watching Heather sleep beside him, her gentle breathing the most wonderful sound he could imagine. It was another of those moments he intended to record in his memory, down to the last perfect detail.