Deadly Twist, page 28
part #2 of Maximum Exposure Series
He curled his arm out and Lily rolled into the crook of his shoulder. “This’ll be our last night. I’m sure of it.”
His steady heartbeat was as soothing as the warmth of his body next to hers, and she was surprised at how comfortable she was.
Her mind drifted to her family. They’d be beside themselves with worry. “What are we going to do when we get there?”
“We’ll go straight to the police, report Otomi’s death, and ask them to call your family.”
She tried to picture how that conversation would go. She imagined lots of tears and lots of I told you so’s.
But they’d be wrong.
Despite everything that’d happened and nearly dying several times, she had survived. She had the pictures to prove it. “Hey, what happened to your camera?”
“I left it back at the sinkhole.”
“What? Why?”
“It was ruined. It doesn’t matter; it’s insured. Besides, I have the SD cards—they’re much more important.”
She curled her hand over his chest, feeling the muscles beneath. “I hope the pictures turn out.”
“Me too.”
They slipped into comfortable silence, and soon Carter’s breathing became deep and steady. As he drifted off, Lily tried to mute all the unanswerable questions running through her head so she too could fall asleep.
* * *
Lily must’ve slept, because when she opened her eyes there was enough light to see Carter lying next to her. His eyes were still closed and his lips were slightly ajar, inhaling long, slow breaths. Carter was handsome in a rugged, outdoorsy way. His long, dark lashes rested on his upper cheeks. His nose was cute and straight. A ray of sun caught in his hair, and she saw hints of both blond and whiskey colors in the knots.
“You know that’s rude, don’t you?”
She jumped. “What?”
He opened his eyes. “Staring.”
She giggled. “I thought you were asleep.”
“How can I sleep with your beautiful eyes drilling into me?” He kissed her forehead and groaned. “Oh man, I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck.”
“Yeah, me too.” She lifted her head.
He rolled his arm out from under her neck and flexed his fingers. “Pins and needles.” He flicked his hand, obviously trying to work the blood back in.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s all good. Did you sleep?”
She nodded. “I must have.”
He crawled to his feet. “Good. Come on, let’s go. I reckon we’ll be eating steak for lunch today.”
Lily moaned. “Stop teasing.” She stood and stretched, manipulating the pain from her shoulders.
“Oh shit, look at your legs.”
She didn’t want to look, but couldn’t help it. Sometime during the night, ants or mosquitos or even both had had a feast on her legs. Hundreds of angry red dots marked every inch of her skin. From the second she saw them, the itching attacked. She wanted to claw her nails up her shins, her thighs, her ankles. Carter must’ve seen that urge because he grabbed her hands.
“Don’t.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced the new affront to her body from her mind. She opened her eyes and Carter met her gaze. “This had better be the last day of this fucking shit.”
He burst out laughing. “All right then, Tiger Lily, let’s get moving.”
While Carter untied the boat, Lily went into the bushes to relieve herself. Just the thought of being rescued and using toilet paper again had her moving faster.
Every step was agony, but she had no intention of removing her wet socks and boots. She’d never get them back on. Carter put Pompa’s cage into the boat, along with her pack, and then helped her aboard. She slushed through the ankle-deep water to the front seat, sat, and reached for the oar.
Carter jumped in the boat, pushed off, and they floated downstream.
Unlike last night, the river seemed peaceful, almost serene. Rays of sunlight pierced the trees on the right-hand side of the ravine and shimmered off the water like dazzling stars. Small butterflies danced about in a spectacle choreographed by nature. If it weren’t for her hunger and aching body, she’d have loved every minute.
Even the boat behaved itself today and maintained course down the river, almost of its own accord. Only on the odd occasion did they need to steer it back into position.
Pompa showed no signs of distress and flapped his wings, soaring on the morning breeze. They rounded the first bend in the river and Pompa crowed long and loud, ruffling his feathers.
Carter huffed. “Lucky we don’t eat you, crazy bird.”
Lily snapped her eyes to him. “We will not!”
He did a double take. “I was joking.”
She turned back toward the bow and pretended to study her battered hands. Her aggression had been uncalled-for, and she instantly regretted it.
“Lily?” Carter said it as a question. “What’s going on? Why’s Pompa so important to you?”
She turned back to him. “I didn’t just want to save him for Otomi’s sake.”
“I’m sensing that.”
Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, and let the air out slowly. “When I was twelve, I had a pet rabbit called Fluff Bomb. He was cute and mischievous and constantly escaped from his cage. Dad told me if I didn’t fix his pen, he’d put Fluff Bomb into our next stew.”
She could still picture the fluffy rabbit sitting in her lap, flicking his ears back and forward while she tickled his pink stomach. “Anyway, one night he got out again and ate my mom’s entire snow-pea crop. My dad loved his snow peas more than my rabbit.” Her fingers trembled as she covered her eyes. She clenched her teeth, determined not to cry.
“Come here.” Carter wrapped his hand around her wrist, pulled her to him, and she rested her chin on his shoulder, forcing back the tears.
“It was my fault she was killed.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” He pulled back, his eyes darkened, drilled with concern.
“It was.”
He tilted his head, and a small smile curled at his lips. “Well, I think what you did for Pompa makes up for it.”
Nothing could ever make up for it, yet she nodded.
Pompa crowed and flapped his wings. Carter chuckled. “See, even Pompa agrees.”
The boat bumped off a rock neither of them had seen and she scurried back to her seat and clutched the oar.
It was already warm, despite the sun still hiding behind the trees. The occasional fish jumped from the water, making Lily’s grumbling stomach grumble even more. With each curve in the river it widened slightly; this, in turn, had the current diminishing. When the sun finally peeked over the top of the treetops, Lily fought the glare with squinted eyes.
“Carter!” She pointed ahead. “There’s people.”
“Where?”
“Over there. It’s a jetty.” Lily shielded her eyes from the sun. “They’re kids.” Her heart thumped. “They’re fishing.”
“Yes. Hola!” Standing, Carter waved both hands above his head. “Hola.”
The two children waved back.
“Paddle, Lily. We’re saved.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. A lump in her throat made it impossible to breathe. Every muscle ached. Yet she sliced that blade through the water, driving toward salvation. The two children continued waving, and soon Lily heard them giggling too. They wore only brightly colored shorts, and their welcoming smiles were a brilliant contrast to their dark skin.
“Hola necesitamos ayuda.” Carter cupped his mouth, projecting his voice. “Es que la madre o el padre en esta lista?”
“Sí. Sí,” one of the boys called back.
“Se puede conseguir que por favor.”
The children ran off like a fox was on their tail.
Lily frowned at Carter. “What’d you say?”
“I asked them to get their folks.”
Lily turned back to the approaching jetty. Carter put his oar into the water to slow their speed, and the second they reached it, she leaned over and clutched at the pylon. Carter launched onto the rickety platform to tie them up. She handed Pompa’s cage and her pack to him, and then he helped her from the boat.
She fell into his arms. The realization they were saved reduced her legs to jelly. Carter hooked one arm around her waist, picked up Pompa’s cage with his other hand, and she grabbed her pack. Then together they headed toward the little cottage in the distance.
Through tear-filled eyes, Lily spied a buxom woman waddling toward them. “Oh Dios mío. ¿Estás bien? ¿De donde vienes?”
Lily only recognized one phrase—oh Dios mío. Oh my God. One of her friends from college was Mexican, and this was her favorite saying. Lily agreed with it wholeheartedly.
The woman arrived at Lily’s side, clutched her elbow, and led her toward the cottage. Lovely aromas wafting from the building had Lily wondering if she’d died and gone to heaven. Her aching body convinced her otherwise.
The woman and Carter carried on a conversation Lily couldn’t understand. She switched off trying to work out what they were saying and allowed them to look after her. The giggling boys grabbed Pompa’s cage and her bag and raced ahead with the rooster bouncing between them.
After a couple of steps inside the cottage, Lily was seated at a small table with four wicker chairs positioned around it. Within seconds, a glass of water and a small bun were in front of her. Lily gulped down the water and then bit into the bread roll. The outer crust cracked to reveal a slightly chewy, vanilla-colored center. Never before had anything tasted so good.
Carter sat at her side and he too was treated to food and water.
He placed his hand over Lily’s. “We made it.”
She nodded. “We did.”
He grinned. “I’ll see if Teresa has a phone.”
“Discúlpeme, Teresa, ¿tiene un teléfono?” Carter held his hand to his ear, mimicking his question.
“No. Sin embargo, nuestros vecinos hacen.” Teresa shook her head and Lily’s heart sank. The conversation continued between Teresa and Carter, and as if a starter gun had sounded, the two boys shot from the kitchen and raced out the front door.
Carter turned to her. “Teresa doesn’t have a phone, but her husband’s working at a farm nearby. The boys have gone to get him, and then he’ll take us into town.”
Lily nodded. “Gracias, Teresa.”
“Está bien.”
After the small bun came a bowl of curry. It was hot, both in heat and spice, and brimmed with meat and vegetables. Lily scooped large spoonfuls into her mouth. Carter dunked a second bread roll and devoured his food too.
She became full much sooner than she’d expected, and couldn’t even finish the meal. Carter too had stopped.
Lily put her hands together as if praying. “Gracias, Teresa. Gracias.”
The Mexican woman turned, wiping her hands on a towel, smiling.
“Please sit with us,” Lily said, and Carter translated and indicated a chair.
Teresa pulled out a seat, and as she leaned forward to sit, Lily noticed a small silver cross around her neck. Her mind flashed to the necklace in the cave.
“Hey, Carter, can you please ask Teresa if she knows about the mudslide?”
He blinked at her, then he touched her hand and squeezed. She guessed he knew where Lily was going with her request. He turned back to Teresa, and Lily watched their hands and facial expressions, trying but failing to follow their conversation.
As their discussion continued at length, Lily grew more confident Teresa could help.
“What was your father’s name?” Carter asked.
“Malcom Bennett.”
He turned back to Teresa, and when he repeated the name the woman’s expression grew grim. At one point, Teresa pointed her finger to her ear and spun it around as she said, “Loco.” Lily recalled Otomi’s reference to the monkeys being loco and wondered who Teresa was referring to.
Finally, Carter turned to her, and the look in his eyes drove a spike into her heart.
He placed his hand over hers again, preparing her for what she was about to hear. “Like we’d already figured, the mudslide was in 1980. An entire village was wiped out, killing everyone.”
“Did she know my father?”
He nodded. “He was a missionary—”
“Ahhh, I don’t think so.” Lily shook her head. “Dad never went to church; he didn’t even believe in God.”
“Let me finish.”
“Okay.” She said it with the uncertainty it deserved.
“He worked as a missionary around this area for about a year before he met his wife. They worked together, traveling among the small communities, talking about God and religion. Even once he had his daughter, they continued.”
Lily tried to picture her dad doing this, but couldn’t.
“When the mudslide hit that village, he and his wife and child were in a car. They were swept away. He survived but couldn’t get his family out of the mud in time. Apparently, he held on to his wife’s hand until she died.”
Lily’s chest burned at the horror of it.
Carter cleared his throat. “Your father stayed with them for three days before he finally let go. Apparently, he walked through the jungle for a week, surviving on just water and berries, and by the time they found him he was a little crazy. Nobody even knew of the mudslide until he told them.”
Lily covered her mouth. “Oh my God.”
“Teresa says after the accident, your father stayed around for a few months, but one day he just disappeared.”
Lily blinked at Carter and Teresa, and tried to picture her father walking from the jungle, exhausted and starving, like they’d just done. It was difficult to believe, and yet it explained much of her father’s actions. It answered why he didn’t believe in God and didn’t want any of his children married in a church. It explained why he was insistent on his children learning survival skills. It might also explain why he’d continued having children until a daughter was born.
The pain he’d suffered might also explain why he never mentioned his first wife and daughter again. A flush of warmth radiated through her body, bringing a sense of relief. Her father was still the family man she’d always known him to be, and not someone who’d willingly abandoned his wife and child. It appalled her that she’d thought any different.
Finally, she had answers to the questions that’d brought her to Mexico, and she was confident this knowledge would help her mother’s grieving.
It made every painful step worthwhile.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The two children came bounding into the kitchen followed by a middle-aged Mexican man with graying hair and a scraggly beard. Carter stood to shake his hand and introduce themselves.
“Hola, mi nombre es Carter, esta es Lily.” Carter informed Pedro of their situation and asked to be taken to the police.
“Sí, sí, te llevaré a la policía.”
After Lily hugged Teresa and said goodbye, she and Carter squeezed into the front of Pedro’s beat-up old pickup. Lily’s pack and Pompa’s cage were put into the back and the two squealing children jumped in too. Carter asked the date, and was surprised to learn it’d been eleven days since they’d left Corozal. He relayed the information to Lily.
“Feels like so much more.”
“I agree.”
“We’re a week overdue. I wonder if my brothers are here.”
“We’ll find out soon enough.”
Bumping along the winding road, leafy trees brushed against the side of the truck and the kids giggled in the back. Pedro asked many questions, and Carter had just as many of his own. When Carter mentioned the marijuana farm and being chased by men with guns, Pedro’s eyes bulged with apparent fear.
“Hombres muy malos.” He shook his head. “Hombres muy malos,” he repeated.
“What’s he saying?” Lily asked.
“I was telling him about the guys who chased us, and he says they’re very bad men.”
She huffed. “I could’ve told him that.”
It was more than an hour before they arrived at a police station. The squat orange building with peeling paint and no windows didn’t portray any semblance of authority. Out front were two horses and two motorbikes.
Pedro pulled to a stop, Carter jumped out, and Lily winced as he helped her from the pickup. He put his arm around her waist and aided her into the building.
The police were as efficient as the boxy computer on their desk, but they made up for it with their friendliness. Lily and Carter were treated to more food, and at the insistence of the two overweight officers, they posed for photos that Pedro willingly took. It seemed like hours before they’d explained everything. Several times Carter noticed Lily had closed her eyes, and he wondered if she’d fallen asleep.
“Por favor,” Carter said. “We need a hospital.”
“Ahhh, sí, sí, sí.”
Lily and Carter were whisked out the back of the station and loaded into a beat-up old Jeep that was caked in red dirt from the wheels to the roof. The birdcage and her pack were shoved onto the back seat and the rooster crowed as if in protest. Lily leaned on Carter’s shoulder, and before they’d even traveled through the small town, she was asleep.
It was several hours before they reached another town. This one was much bigger than the last. They cruised down the main street, and when they arrived at an intersection, Carter was shocked to see the ocean. Golden beaches lined the shore and azure water stretched to the distant horizon.
Barely five minutes later, the police officer pulled to the curb next to a giant, red, Perspex cross announcing the emergency entrance to the hospital. Carter put his arms beneath Lily’s knees and around her back and carried her up the pebbled path. The police officer ran at his side, shouting commands in Spanish before they’d even reached the doors.
Two glass panels slid open, flooding him with cool air. “Ayuda. Ayudame por favor.” Carter called for help and two women in white uniforms came running forward.
He placed Lily’s limp body onto a trolley and briefed the nurses of their situation. Lily’s bloodshot eyes opened. Her cracked lips parted but no words came out. He wove his fingers into hers and squeezed, but she didn’t respond. His chest tightened at her overwhelming weakness. Carter ran alongside the trolley, clutching her hand while they wheeled her along a fluorescent-lit corridor.
