Vickie Britton, page 22
The thick binder made up a kind of hidden compartment. I slipped my finger inside the hollow gap between wood and tapestry. It was empty.
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A vision of Alice going through Tavas’s boxes so carefully the night we’d packed up his things stuck in my mind. Had she been looking for something in particular?
And now, the attic had been carelessly rearranged. Could whoever had gone through the attic so recklessly have been searching for the same thing as Alice? Had he found it here, in the torn, empty compartment of this photo album?
Later, when I went to deliver the land lease agreement to Guillermo, my mind was still on the empty compartment in Tavas’s album. I could hear voices in his office. Someone was in there with him. A woman’s voice.
Alice.
“I’m afraid of him, Guillermo,” I heard her say. “I swear, he’s dangerous.”
“It’s all right, Alice,” I heard him reply. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep watch on him.”
Who are they talking about? My heart pounded rapidly in my chest. Who’s dangerous? Are they talking about Ivan?
As I slipped away back to the house, I heard Brad’s voice calling out to me.
“Anna!”
I turned to find him coming quickly toward me.
“You know I’m leaving right after supper,” he said, catching up to me with two quick strides. He was dressed in a red flannel shirt, worn jeans, and old boots. “I’m taking a couple of the men with me up to Secret Pass.”
“How long will you be gone?’
“One night, maybe two.” Suddenly, he took my arm and swept me into the shadows of one of the outbuildings.
“Brad, what—”
His eyes glimmered strangely in the shadows, the yellow sparks in them warning me something was wrong.
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Moving closer to me, he said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, but—I want you to remember what I told you. Be careful, Anna.”
“Please don’t worry about me.”
As we spoke, I saw Alice pass us, hurrying back toward the house.
He didn’t care.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t help it.” His arms came around my shoulders. I could smell soap and the faint scent of men’s cologne as he drew me close against his sturdy chest, holding me tightly for a moment as if he never wanted to let me go. Then his lips met mine. His mouth was teasing, caressing, but I could sense a strong undercurrent of emotion behind that almost platonic kiss. At that moment, I realized that though I’d given him very little encouragement, his feelings for me hadn’t wavered. If I had ever doubted his caring for me, I didn’t doubt it now.
“I love you, Anna,” he whispered against my cheek. “And when I get back, I’m going to ask you to marry me again.”
He said the words with unfaltering determination.
“In fact, I’m going to keep on asking until I get the answer I’m hoping to hear.”
I started to reply, but he held a finger to my lips. “Don’t answer now. Give it some thought. When I get back…”
With a sinking feeling in my chest, I watched him walk away.
I liked the thought of Brad being nearby. His protectiveness toward me made me feel secure; his sense of humor reassured me. Knowing he’d be out of reach the next two days made me feel vulnerable, lost. Alone.
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I thought about Ivan—about the wild, sometimes frightening feelings stirred up in me whenever he held me in his arms. I remembered the taste of his lips burning mine, the dizzying sensation that left me feeling weak, trembling with a desire I didn’t fully understand. Suddenly, I didn’t want to feel that way, ever again. If that was love, then I wanted no part in that cruel emotion that was part pleasure and part pain. My heart pounding, I suddenly longed for the security of Brad’s strong arms—but, Brad was gone.
I was alone….and I was afraid.
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Chapter 33
Guillermo wasn’t in his office after supper, nor could I find him outside near the corrals where a few of the men were still working. The ranch seemed nearly deserted. Brad had left a few minutes ago, taking Carlos and two others up with him to Secret Pass to search for strays.
Someone called my name. I turned, expecting to find Guillermo behind me. Instead, it was Victor. “Miss Haspura. Wait.”
I suppressed a little shiver as he caught up with me. Those opaque eyes watched, huge and unblinking.
“Are you looking for Guillermo?” he asked.
“Yes.” When he did not respond, I added with impatience, “Well, have you seen him?”
A slow grin spread across his face. “I know a secret,” he said.
As I listened to his strange, eerie talk, I felt a stab of something akin to fear. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, and moved back a step, trying to edge away from him.
“The lovers.”
His words brought me around again to face him, curious. Just how much did Victor understand about what
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was going on around him? How much was truth, and how much imagination?
“I have something I could show you.” His hand rose to his shirt pocket. He allowed me a glimpse of something that looked like a paper or letter he’d carefully tucked inside.
“What is it?”
He slipped the paper deep into his pocket, out of view, obviously unwilling to part so easily with his secret. He looked down at the ground, his enormous boots making scuff marks in the dirt. When he looked back up at me, I was surprised to see fear in those strange, glittering eyes.
“You have to promise not to tell. Guillermo’d be angry with me if he knew I had it.”
“You don’t have to worry…” I wanted to get a look at the note. It could be a note to Colleen from her lover. If so, it could be important in solving the mystery behind her murder.
A sudden sound startled him, made his hands drop to his side. He spun around, surprisingly lithe and graceful, his entire body tensed with the kind of alertness he must have learned during those years as a sheep herder, up in those mountains alone.
Guillermo was coming toward us. “What did I tell you about bothering her, Victor?” His voice was sharp and stern as he addressed his friend. It was strange to see the giant of a man cower before him. “I thought I told you to clean out the stables?”
Slowly, Victor nodded, his eyes darting here and there like a child in fear of another scolding. I knew that whatever he’d been about to tell me was, at least for the moment, lost.
“I hope he wasn’t making a nuisance of himself,” Guillermo said as Victor slipped away, shoulders slumped,
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pouting like a huge, sulky puppy. “I saw him following you. What did he want, anyway?”
“I’m not sure.” How could I tell Guillermo he’d interrupted something that could have proven to be very important? I could hardly scold him when he thought he’d been coming to my rescue. “He seemed to want to tell me something. Then he must have changed his mind,” I said.
“Well, you know my friend’s not quite right in the upper story,” Guillermo remarked casually, tapping his forehead. “Poor, kid. A bright, promising lad before that blizzard trapped us up there in those mountains. Now there’s no telling what goes through that mind of his.”
Esteban stepped into view, out from the thick clump of juniper growing near the side of the driveway, an odd, smirking look upon his face. How long had he been standing there unnoticed, listening to our conversation?
Guillermo saw him. “Shall we go into my office?” he asked me, with a pointed look in Esteban’s direction as he passed by.
Once inside the office, I gave Guillermo the land lease agreement for Martin DeGarza. Then I waited as he scanned the papers. With a nod of approval, he placed them back down upon the desk. He seemed preoccupied. A sharp frown deepened the lines between his eyebrows.
“Guillermo, is something wrong?”
“I was just thinking about that fool Esteban. You saw the way he was skulking around outside, listening to us. I’ve a feeling he’s up to no good.” He shook his head, clearly perplexed. “I’m positive he’s mixed up with this devil-worship business, but what good are my gut feelings with no proof to back them up? Either he’s a damned cunning rascal, or I’ve made a mistake in judgment. And it’s not just me. Alice is scared to death of him.”
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So it was Esteban that he and Alice had been discussing earlier.
Guillermo leaned across the desk toward me, his eyes bright and piercing in his tanned, sun-furrowed face as he revealed in a low, confidential voice, “I was convinced he was to blame for Colleen’s murder.”
Slowly, he began to explain. “I thought Esteban was seeing Colleen on the sly. I thought maybe they got into an argument…” His voice trailed off. “But now I know I was wrong about that. If Colleen did have a man on the sly, it wasn’t Esteban.”
“How do you know, Guillermo? If not Esteban, then who was she seeing?”
Silence followed. “Like I said, there’s something here that just doesn’t fit together. A piece of the picture that just doesn’t fit.” He watched me intensely, his eyes filled with warning. “Someone close to us may be involved in this, Anna. That’s all I know right now. I think…that you may be in danger.”
“Guillermo—”
“You listen to me, Anna. We’re back to square one again. You come to me if you need help.” He reached out and touched my arm gently, the rare display of affection alarming me nearly as much as his next words. “You can’t afford to trust anyone but me.”
I left his office feeling even more confused and bewildered than before. Guillermo suspected someone who was close to us of Colleen’s murder, but who had he meant to imply? Colleen’s jealous lover or her angry husband?
There was one other person who knew something. I knew it was important that I find Victor again, that I discover what he’d been trying to tell me this afternoon
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before Guillermo had interrupted us. I wanted to get my hands on that note.
He wasn’t in the stables. I glanced up at the sky, already streaked with purple, as I wandered down to the bunkhouses. The sun would be setting soon, spreading darkness over the ranch. It was a Friday night. An emptiness hung about the place. Most of the men had taken off for town. The few who remained sat quietly on their porches, drinking beer and talking.
Outside the shabby duplexes, Graciana rocked her newborn son. I felt a twinge of pity for her. She was a ghost of a woman with her sad, dark eyes and thin, pale face. I slowed to greet her, but she turned her face away as I passed by.
On my way back to the house, I again stopped by the stables in hopes of finding Victor. It was dark and seemed deserted except for the restless livestock tramping in their stalls and the fluttering of the starlings roosting in the hollow timbers above me. My footsteps sounded magnified in the stillness.
I heard someone moving behind me. Suddenly, Victor stepped out from behind the shadow of one of the stalls and lumbered toward me, rake still in hand. “You lookin’ for me, Miss Anna?”
“Remember what we were talking about earlier, Victor? Before Guillermo came and told you to clean out the stables?”
A vague look crossed his face. Then, suddenly, his eyes brightened. “You mean about the secret.”
“Yes. Would you share your secret with me?”
“I have something.” He reached into his pocket and took out a piece of paper, creased and worn. “I took it from Guillermo’s things. Guillermo’d be mad if he found out.
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It’s real important. I know because sometimes he takes it out late at night and he reads it to himself. I…I don’t read too good, Miss Anna.” He handed me the letter.
Dismayed, I stared down at the envelope in my hands. I’d been expecting to discover a love letter from Colleen to either Brad or Esteban. And instead, I had this.
The paper was brittle and yellowed with age. The letter had been sent from an Army base back east. It was postmarked nearly thirty years ago from today. The envelope was addressed to Tavas Haspura.
“You can keep the letter,” Victor said, turning back to his raking with sudden concentration. “I’m angry at Guillermo,” he said childishly. “I don’t want it anymore.”
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Chapter 34
I sat down on one of the hay bales just outside the stables and opened the envelope with shaking fingers. My gaze skimmed along the faded, ink-blotted print to the frail, spidery signature at the bottom. Lucas. Alice’s husband.
The letter had been penned with a shaky hand. This, and the fact that darkness was slowly closing in, made the fine, blurry print difficult to read. The letter was written in broken English with Basque words interspersed at random. I concentrated, struggling to make sense of the contents. It went something like this:
Dear Brother:
Am writing from the Army hospital. Illness is worse and they think to discharge me soon. You will understand why I send Alice back on next train. Her health is delicate and weather here is very cold. Tavas, what I write must remain a secret between two brothers. This letter, for the sake of our family honor, must be destroyed. I know the child Alice carries cannot be mine. I have always known the truth. I love her, Tavas. The secret of her dishonor must die with us, for I would rather kill myself than let any harm or disgrace come to her. Take care of her, Tavas, as if she were your own.
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Until I can join you,
Lucas
A cold wave of fear swept over me, making the yellowed paper tremble as I sat there, reading and rereading the faded words. In my hands was undeniable proof that Ivan was Tavas’s son.
Victor had taken the letter from Guillermo’s things. Where had Guillermo gotten hold of the letter? Had he been the one who’d searched the attic? The letter must have come from the empty place in Tavas’s old photo album.
Alice, too, had been searching for the letter. She must have told Guillermo about its existence. Again, I heard his warning words this afternoon in the barn, ‘Someone close to us may be involved in this’. I knew now that it was Ivan Guillermo suspected of Colleen’s murder.
Hastily, I thrust the letter into my shirt pocket and hurried toward Guillermo’s office. Fridays he often worked late on the payroll. He had to be there. I had to talk to him, to find out what this letter meant.
I’d nearly reached the barn when I heard a sound behind me. I glanced back over my shoulder, startled, wondering if Victor was following me, but nobody was behind me.
I approached the barn. My footsteps sounded magnified in the stillness as I crossed over to the office. The door swung open slowly. The room was empty. The dying coals in the small, pot-bellied stove gave evidence that Guillermo had been here a short time ago.
For a moment, I lingered. Then I began to hurry back outside, hoping I could catch him on his way to the bunkhouse. I’d gone halfway across the dark barn when I
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heard a swift motion directly behind me. Turning, I caught a glimpse of some stealthy shadow moving in the darkness near the stalls. I paused, frozen, straining my ears in the silence, but there was only the sound of the restless horses pounding their hooves against the creaking wood floor of the barn.
Breaking into a dead run, I hurried toward the shaft of faded light glowing from the barn’s entranceway. Glancing back, I cried in alarm at the sight of the huge, menacing shadow moving along the barn wall. Someone, or something, was directly behind me.
Before I could spin around and face the intruder, strong arms clamped about my throat, squeezing my windpipe, painfully bruising my flesh. I reached up, scratching and clawing, desperately trying to free myself from the steel trap of those crushing hands. Though I struggled violently, my feeble efforts against the brute strength of my attacker were as futile as a mouse’s plight in the clutches of a hungry cat. I clawed the air, writhing in pain, fighting now only for precious gasps of air.
The ground came up to meet me in a sea of darkness as my assailant suddenly released me. The last thing I saw as I slipped limply to the dusty floor was a huge, shapeless shadow moving away through clouds of hazy darkness.
I woke to a desperate thirst. A dry, burning ache filled my throat. I sat up, the smell of hay invading my nostrils. How long had I been lying in the straw of the barn floor, unconscious? The thirst gave way to a crushed, bruised feeling as I wobbled unsteadily to my feet, smoothing the tangled hair away from my face, brushing dirt from my clothing. Fearfully, I searched the shadows, but my attacker was gone.
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Slowly, I limped my way to the barn door, swinging it open to the welcoming glow of moonlight. Dizzily, I found my way from the garden path to the kitchen door and let myself inside.
“Is that you, Anna?” Alice’s voice called nervously. “You’ve been gone so long we got worried. Ivan went out to look for you.” She crossed the room and now stood in shocked surprise. “Anna!” Her voice was little more than a ragged whisper. “What’s happened to you?”
“Someone…attacked me…in the barn.”
“Here, now.” She took my arm and led me into the adjoining room. Gently, she settled me back upon the couch near the fireside. “I’ll get a cool cloth for that bruise. And tea. I’ll make some tea.”
I nodded weakly, leaning my head back against the soft cushions. Moments later, Alice returned with the cloth. “Did you see anything?” she asked anxiously, bathing my forehead and throat with the soothing washcloth. “Was Ivan out there? Did you see Ivan?”
Just then, the door flew open and he stepped inside. His hair was wild and unruly, his eyes as black as midnight. “Thank God you’re safe, Anna,” he said, coming toward me. “There was a prowler out near the barn. I almost had him, but he got away.” As he came closer, my gaze fell upon the long, jagged scratch standing out across his pale cheekbone. He’d stopped talking, for the first time taking in my disheveled appearance. With an oath, he exclaimed, “Did you see him? Do you know who did this to you?”
