As Lost as I Get Page 7

  Dressing and acting the part was easy: a suit jacket over a dress shirt and jeans, and a veneer of slightly sleazy charm. Both concealed the Glock in his shoulder holster and the sharp way he watched everyone around him.

  The café was a local favorite, busy at all hours. Ceiling fans turned lazily overhead, doing little to stir the heavy, stifling air. Lee found a corner table and ordered guarapo, which was cold and sweet and reminiscent of limeade. The café was nearly full, with various Puinave and Curripaco natives, some llaneros in town to conduct business, and a few soldiers taking a break. In one of the opposite corners sat a hard-eyed woman perhaps a few years older than him. He wasn’t sure who she was working for, but if she wasn’t his foreign equivalent, he’d be shocked. The Colombian government liked to claim that the revolutionaries and the cartels were less active these days than they’d been in the 1990s, but there were plenty of countries that wanted to keep tabs for themselves.

  If the woman recognized him for what he was, she didn’t show it. She met up with another woman, and the two of them walked out, chatting about shopping. Her Spanish was accented enough to mark her as not a native, but Lee couldn’t nail down an origin before she was gone.

  Shortly after noon, Timo walked in, smiling when he saw Lee. “Will, how are you?”

  “Good. It’s been too long though.” Excluding clandestine meetings in cabs, that is. He signaled for another guarapo for Timo, and they chatted for several minutes about nothing in particular—the latest soccer match, what teams were doing well, the weather. They talked long enough to bore any casual listener. When his internal clock told him they’d stalled long enough, Lee said, “Did you ever find those photographs we were talking about?”

  “My sister, at the wedding.” Timo beamed and produced a large envelope from his messenger bag. The envelope crinkled in his hands and looked stuffed. “She is a beautiful girl, my friend. I think you will want to meet her after you look through these.” He handed the envelope over. The kid was good at this, and unlike many of the informants and recruits he’d worked with in the past, absolutely fearless.

  Lee grinned back at him. “If I want her phone number, would you give it to me?”

  “Only after I warn her never to trust an American man.” They laughed.

  “I’m hurt,” Lee said.

  “I like you, William, but I do not like you that much.”

  The conversation went on, and Timo invited him to lunch, which he turned down, citing another appointment. It wasn’t a lie. Part of his cover involved getting to know local businessmen, other foreigners, other soldiers. He was careful to make his meetings with informants indistinguishable from his meetings with everyone else. Bribery was a tradition that was alive and well in Guainía, and Inírida was at the heart of it. Almost every meeting he had involved giving or taking envelopes openly or under the table. There was no reason for anyone to suspect that a few of those envelopes contained something other than a mix of local and foreign currency. Some, like the one he’d just received from Timo, held Colombian government reports and photographs.

  When he returned to his hotel room, the town had settled into its late afternoon lull. During his last meeting, with a representative of one of the local rubber manufacturers, he kept getting distracted, thinking his phone had buzzed with a message from Zoe. He’d forced himself to let it go until he was in private. Even now, in his hotel room, he did his usual sweep for bugs before checking his phone.

  There was nothing. Lee sat down on the edge of his bed, the same bed that not eighteen hours earlier he had shared with her. She hadn’t promised to call him today, and just reminding himself of that made him feel like a teenager. Still, whatever had happened the night before, he was getting the feeling that Zoe didn’t want to see him again.

  Chapter Six

  The days went by in a haze. Zoe had to fight to get the other doctors to go home, and they fought just as hard to get her to go home. By the third day, they were taking turns sleeping in the office and washing up in the clinic bathroom. The nurses were rotating out in eighteen-hour shifts. It was getting difficult to see a difference between the drawn faces of the cholera patients and the drawn faces of their exhausted caregivers.

  By mid-morning of the third day, they were releasing more patients than they were admitting, finally. Word had gotten out, and people had started being careful with their water all over town and beyond. There wasn’t a count of how many people had died. The clinic lost seventeen, all children. The hospital hadn’t released their information, and of course, there would likely never be a count of how many people died without ever seeking treatment.

  Thanks to Colonel Vargas, they were able to send their patients home with water treatment kits. Zoe still had no idea how he’d known what to send without asking. Jacira heard through her grapevine that the government had started distributing the kits throughout all of the settlements outside of Inírida.

  That afternoon, Zoe sent Susan and Maria both home with strict orders not to come back until the next day. They were down to just half a dozen patients in the recovery room, and two of those would be able to go home soon. Zoe’s job consisted mostly of just being available. She sat in her office and worked on the long overdue paperwork, writing up her report on the epidemic.

  Sometime after seven, there was a knock at her open door. “Come in.” She looked up.

  “I heard from your nurses that you hadn’t had dinner, so . . .” Colonel Vargas stood there with a foam container and a paper cup, a smile on his face.

  Zoe stood and came around the desk. “You didn’t have to do that. If anything, I owe you a meal after everything you’ve done for us.” She took the food, then shook his hand between hers.

  He towered over her, his smile gleaming against his dark skin. “On the contrary. All I did was make some phone calls. You and your colleagues are the ones who’ve been hard at work. Thank you.” He held on to her hand a little longer than was strictly friendly.

  “It’s what we do.” Zoe extricated herself. “And we can’t do it without the government’s help. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate what you did. You said you’d call for my list—how did you know what we needed?”

  “Well, I might’ve done some asking around our own medical teams.”

  “You saved a lot of lives, Colonel.”

  “Well, that’s what we do,” he replied. “When we can. And please. It’s Santiago, remember. I won’t keep you.” He tugged at his uniform beret, straightening it. “But if you meant what you said about owing me a meal, there’s a café not far from here that has excellent lunches.”

  Zoe smiled and gave him a mock salute. “In that case, Col—Santiago, yes. I meant it. Call the office next week? Things should have settled down by then.” It hit her a second later. She’d just accepted a date.

  “Absolutely, Doctor Rodriguez.”

  “Zoe,” she corrected.

  “Zoe,” he said. “I’ll talk to you then.”

  After he was gone, she opened the container to find bandeja paisa, a mouthwatering assortment of meats and a fried egg, with several side dishes. Zoe picked up the fork when the smell of fried plantains reached her. Her stomach turned. She focused on the feel of her desk beneath her fingertips, pressing against the wood grain to stay grounded in the here and now. Growing up, she had loved fried plantains, a staple in her Dominican mother’s Bronx kitchen.

  That was before Oaxaca and plates of under-ripe, undercooked fried plantains and burnt rice, served to her on the floor with her hands bound. The smell brought it back. Balancing herself on her knees on the dirt floor, tipping too far and winding up with plantain on her face and in her hair.

  Zoe gritted her teeth and scooped the offending food out of the Styrofoam container and wrapped it up in an empty plastic bag before taking it out of her office and throwing it away. When she came back, the food was a little colder, but she was able
to eat.

  ***

  For a time, it was quiet around the clinic. Once the worst of the epidemic passed, they went back to treating the usual array of illnesses and injuries. Zoe was glad to settle in to a more normal routine of clinic administration.

  First on her list was writing up a training session on communication with the locals for visiting staff. Zoe had to resist calling it “Susan, This Isn’t the U.S.” It was an ongoing problem. The latest incident had Susan mocking the local shamans. She was a brilliant doctor, but she came with some massive blind spots, and more than a little arrogance.

  Zoe thanked God on a regular basis that none of the doctors were male, because that would have been a thousand times worse, from her experience. Susan was stubborn and more than a little prejudiced, which sometimes made her hard to work with, but the idea of adding testosterone to that mix made Zoe want to cry.

  Still, it was Susan’s first tour as a volunteer, and Zoe had been an arrogant wreck on her first trip out too. It was fixable, just a pain. It didn’t help that everyone was still wound too tight after the epidemic.

  She was wrapping up the presentation when she heard a familiar voice out in the lobby.

  “Doctor Rodriguez is expecting me,” Santiago said.

  Oh hell, was it that late already? Damn. Zoe stole a quick glance in her compact mirror and then shrugged out of her white coat before leaving her office.

  “Ah, and here she is,” Jacira said. “Have a nice lunch, Doctor. Colonel.” Was that disapproval Zoe heard in her voice? No matter, she’d promised to go to lunch with him, and after all of his help, it was the least she could do.

  “Zoe, you look wonderful. I hope you’re hungry.” Santiago offered her his arm and she took it.

  The little café was made up of a very small dining room and an enormous terrace overlooking the port. A mural of a tall, beautiful native woman surrounded by spiky pink flowers decorated the terrace wall. Zoe recognized her from other places around town.

  After the waitress took their order, Zoe gestured at the mural. “Who is she? Her statue is in the town center, isn’t it?”

  “Ah, Princess Inírida.” Santiago looked amused, and rested his hand over hers. She wasn’t sure she was comfortable with that, but maybe she was just preoccupied by Lee.

  “They named the town after her?” She left her hand where it was. Call it an experiment.

  “Yes. It’s a very sad story, as these things so often are.” He leaned closer. “You’re not really interested in local legends, are you?”

  “Humor me?” She gave the smile that had worked before.

  “All right, for you. Because you’re so lovely today.” His eyes rested on hers, and Zoe made herself hold his gaze, her cheeks heating up. “From what I understand, the princess fell in love with a common man. Of course, her father forbade her to see him, but she defied him. While trying to sneak away to her lover, she was lost in the Cerros de Mavecure, and died there.”

  “The mountains?”

  Santiago nodded. “I’ve heard a more fantastic version, where Inírida was a water spirit bound to the river, and her lover a man of the earth. She could not leave the river, and of course, he could not live in the river without drowning.” His voice was hypnotic, and Zoe could picture the doomed lovers. “Inírida tried anyway, and her soul dried up among the rocks and the dirt of Mavecure.”

  Another voice broke the spell. “Zoe, hi! What are you doing here?” She glanced up to see Ana, who was making her way across the terrace . . . on Lee’s arm. It was her day off, and she was dressed for, well, a date. There was no explaining the thud of disappointment in Zoe’s stomach, or her sudden awareness of her hand beneath Santiago’s. She pulled away, but not before she felt the weight of Lee’s eyes on her.

  He was all smiles though as she and Santiago stood to greet them. “Zoe, hi.” He gave her a hug. She returned it cautiously, inhaling the faint woodsy scent of his cologne before he released her. “What a nice surprise, seeing you here, and . . .?” He looked questioningly at Santiago.

  “Santiago Vargas.” Santiago said it before she could, and extended his hand.

  “Will Freeman.” The two men shook hands like they were testing each other. “Don’t let us interrupt your lunch.”

  “Would you like to join us?” Santiago offered smoothly. Zoe wondered if he really meant it.

  “No, we can’t, really,” Lee said. Ana nodded, her smile over-bright. Did Susan know? She’d said they were just casual, but . . .

  “A shame,” Santiago said, and that Zoe was sure he didn’t mean.

  Lee nodded, then smiled at Zoe. “We should get together again sometime. Catch up a little more.” It was all she could do to keep from blushing, her skin tingling at the memory of his touch.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you two knew each other before,” Ana said.

  “Funny how the world works, isn’t it?” Lee said. “Zoe and I go way back. Never thought I’d find her here on the other side of the world.”

  The waitress made her appearance, carrying their lunch.

  “We’ll get out of your way,” Lee said, his eyes resting firmly on Zoe. Now she could see a hint of a question in his blue eyes, and it was one she couldn’t answer.

  After they were gone, Santiago said, “An old friend, eh? I assumed—I’m not hunting on another man’s preserve, am I?” He smiled mischievously, but the comparison rankled Zoe.

  “I’m my own preserve. It’s fine.”

  They settled in to eat, but she couldn’t shake the disappointed feeling that had settled firmly in her gut.

  Later that night, her phone rang with an unfamiliar number. She nearly let it go to voice mail, but curiosity compelled her to answer. “Zoe Rodriguez.”

  “I hope I didn’t wake you. It’s Lee.”

  “Oh, I get the real name this time. Your date must not have gone well if you’re alone.” Zoe kept her voice light and teasing.

  “It wasn’t really a date,” he said. “I need to talk to you. Sooner is better.”

  Was he even going to mention that night, or her own date? “I could meet you tomorrow, if that works.”

  “Can you meet me tonight?” The urgency in his voice caught at her nerve endings, pulling them tight.

  “Tonight?” It was after ten, but the streets would still be crowded, even in such a small town. “I—yeah, if we need to.” She half-wondered if this was a booty call, but he sounded too serious for that.

  “Can I come get you?”

  There was a flutter in her belly, like nervousness, but not. “I’m at home. It’s at—”

  “I know where.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. “Of course you know. From anyone else that would be creepy, just so you know. But yeah. I’ll watch for you.”

  “See you in twenty minutes.”

  When they hung up, Zoe rushed to check her hair. The humidity was both a blessing and a curse for her natural hair. Straightened hair would’ve been a nightmare in the jungle damp. As it was, her twists were fuzzier than she wanted. She pulled the twisted strands back loosely from her face. All of this for what was sure to be another cloak-and-dagger warning for her to get out of town.

  But what if it’s not? What if he just wants to see you again?

  “Where are you off to so late?” Maria asked when Zoe came into the living room.

  “I have a meeting. With— Will. Will Freeman.”

  Susan’s eyebrows shot up and she grinned. “Mister Mercedes?”

  “Shut up.” Zoe’s cheeks got hot.

  “I heard he took Ana to lunch earlier,” Maria said. Susan turned her attention back to her book, pointedly. She had known. Maria went on, “Is he planning to work his way through the staff?”

  “It’s not like that. He has some news from home. We have some shared acquaintances.” That much, at least, w
as true, even if those acquaintances were mostly dead or in a Mexican prison.

  “Uh huh. Well, you make sure he gets you home safe, querida.”

  “Yes, mami,” Zoe teased.

  ***

  Zoe was ready and waiting when Lee knocked on the door. He could hear women’s voices inside the house, so he wasn’t surprised that she didn’t invite him in. He opened the passenger door of his Jeep and gave her a hand up. Touching her was electric, startling, and possibly a mistake, because he wanted to do it again, soon.

  Every single time he was away from her, he managed to convince himself that she couldn’t possibly be as gorgeous as he remembered, and every time he saw her again, he realized he’d been wrong. He got the wind knocked out of him, every time. And now it was only worse; now he knew exactly what her body looked and felt like.

  He got in behind the wheel and she asked, “Where are we going?”

  “Just somewhere quiet, if that’s all right.”

  He sensed her tense and glanced over to see her hand resting on the passenger door handle. “I’m sorry I never called. Between the cholera patients and our regular caseload . . .”

  “No, it’s fine. I get it.” He didn’t get it, but the last thing he wanted to do was push her on that right now. In this case, the mission had to come first.

  Zoe laughed, but the sound was a shadow of the laugh he’d heard the other night. “You’re not about to take me out somewhere and shoot me for knowing your real identity, are you?”

  “What?” Lee was so shocked he laughed. “Zoe, Jesus. No!”

  In the light from the dash he could see the curve of her mouth in a wry smile. “Yeah, like you’d say yes even if you were.”

  “You’ve seen too many spy movies,” he teased. He was tempted to tell her there were a lot of other reasons he might want to get her alone. “Besides, I’ve already put a lot of work into keeping you alive.”