Chapter 16
El Dorado was suffering from universal anonymity. It looked similar to every other airport through which Eddy had ever traveled.
She waited on gray carpet near a beige wall beside tan plastic chairs. Their three recently claimed bags lay by her feet. Durrand waited for the fourth, a backpack far too large to be allowed as a carry-on. Boarding and disembarking had gone without a hitch. But then why wouldn’t they? Not wanting to raise any red flags, they had left every single weapon they owned in the U.S. Eddy missed her ASP something dreadful.
She had slept for a while on the plane, after which they had expanded their cover story a bit; they’d met online and had immediately been attracted to each other because of their mutual interest in adventure and environmental concerns. But the stranger who waited beside Durrand near the luggage carousel probably would never believe that Eddy’s interest had been sparked for such mundane reasons. Creamy skinned and curvaceous, she glanced up at Gabe through dark, forest-thick lashes. Her hair was inky black and a dimple winked in her left cheek when she spoke to him.
He replied.
The woman’s lush figure was packed into a dress as snug as a snake’s skin, but if Durrand noticed, he didn’t seem to care.
Maybe he really is gay, Eddy thought. Judging by the few panting minutes they’d shared in the Blue Oyster’s restroom, however, that explanation didn’t seem very plausible. On the other hand, during the bumpy six-hour flight south, he had kept his considerable brawn within the tight confines of his seat. If not because of differing sexuality, then why? True, Eddy was hardly irresistible. She was too flat, too pale, too apologetic, and too—
“You here for the tour?”
Her self-examination was interrupted by a nearby voice. She turned toward the speaker. He was balding, overweight, and midwinter pale. American, she thought. Possibly from the New England area. Maybe the Midwest.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The coffee tour. You’ve got the backpack,” he said and motioned toward the bean brown bag that lay near her feet. It was, she had to admit, similar to the one suspended from his plump shoulder. “The bus leaves in seven minutes. You want help carrying your packs? My name’s Nick, by the way. And yours is—” Eddy watched him bend as if to grab her luggage but Durrand’s booted foot stepped onto the nearest strap before he could.
Nick, hand outstretched, straightened slowly, gaze running up Durrand’s khaki-clad leg to his face.
“Luke.” Durrand’s voice was little more than a rumble, his expression about as friendly as a bulldog’s. “And this is Sarah.” He paused a second, as if to let the meaning of his words sink in. “My wife.”
“Oh. Oh!” Nick took a step back. “Well, it’s nice to make your acquaintance,” he said but his expression suggested it wasn’t all that great. “So you’re here for the coffee tour?”
“No,” Gabe said.
“Oh, my mistake. I thought she…” He motioned vaguely toward Eddy, flighty hand on the approximate level of her breasts. Gabe’s brows lowered another notch. Nick cleared his throat. “Well, what are you folks doing in Bogotá?”
Circumventing the backpacks, Eddy curled her fingers around Durrand’s arm. It was as hard as granite, tense with distrust and probably about a hundred thousand reps on the bench press. If he planned for anyone to believe he was anything other than military, he should probably learn to smile. Or at least quit growling. “We came to see the cloud forest while there still is one,” she said.
“You’re not here for the coffee?”
“No. Sorry.”
“Oh, well…that’s too bad,” Nick said, but the glance he gave Durrand suggested he’d probably survive his disappointment. “Nice to meet you anyway.”
“Yes, you too,” Eddy said.
They watched the little man hurry away.
“You okay?” Durrand’s voice was low.
Eddy glanced up in surprise and pulled her hands from his arm. It wasn’t the easiest thing she had ever done. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He stared down at her, expression as hard as his biceps, but maybe there was something a little softer in his eyes. Something he did a pretty fair job of hiding under normal circumstances. “Just be careful.”
“Careful of what?”
“Everything,” he said and returned to the carousel.
Eddy turned back toward their waiting bags. So…paranoia, she thought. She hadn’t expected to see that particular characteristic in such an intimidating man, but sometimes she caught him favoring his right leg or flexing his wounded hand, and maybe one never quite recovered from the kind of trauma he had seen. Physically or emotionally.
Then again, it wasn’t her place to psychoanalyze him. It was her place to help get Linus Shepherd back home. And to that end, she’d better get her ducks in a row.
Pulling her tablet from the nearest backpack, she googled Guapo Herrera. A dozen articles popped up relating to a multitude of businesses. He was the president of Juguetes Nuevos and the CEO of Amazon Textiles but it was his farm that interested her most: six thousand hectares of land just west of San Agustin.
She pulled up images of the area. Judging by the pictures, the hilly region was heavily forested and steeped in mystery. What better place to grow the lucrative coca bush? And for that matter…to hold a prisoner?
Then again, Herrera would have to be a fool to keep an Army Ranger captive. On the other hand, Shepherd would have to be just as idiotic to allow his captors to know he was military, and despite what Gabe had told her, she doubted Shep was any such thing. A showoff maybe. A blowhard and a prankster, but not a fool. Still, would a drug lord run the risk of holding a man like Shepherd hostage? A man with obvious survival skills? It seemed far more likely that he would kill such a man, but… She gave herself a mental shake. She wasn’t here to decide his fate. She was here to find him, alive or dead. So—
“Hey, pretty lady…”
She glanced up.
A young man with dreadlocks and amber-tinted sunglasses was grinning at her, one bare, tanned leg cocked, one scrawny arm sporting a bevy of brightly braided bracelets. “If you need a place to crash for the night, you could come on home with Elf.”
It took a moment for Eddy to realize he was speaking to her. Longer still to understand that he spoke of himself in the third person.
“Oh. No. Thank you,” she said.
He moved closer. His left ear was pierced in five places. His grin was cheery. “Elf has plenty of room,” he said.
“Well…” She was beginning to fidget. “That’s awfully nice of you…Elf, but I’m…” She felt her cheeks warm even before she forced out the lie. “Married.”
He grinned. “Elf don’t mind. We can still have us a few laughs. Why don’t you—”
“Seriously?” Durrand’s voice was desert dry.
Eddy jumped guiltily then zipped her gaze to her employer. He looked peeved, tired, and slightly nauseous. Guilt sluiced through her like a tidal wave, though honest to God, she didn’t know why.
“This your old man, pretty lady?”
She zapped her attention back to Elf. “Um, yes, this is Luke.”
He had to cock his head back a little to look into Durrand’s face. He was grinning when he did so. “You two here on your honeymoon or somethin’?”
“No, we’re—” Eddy began, but Durrand interrupted her.
“We’re here on behalf of the United States government.”
Elf’s berry-brown complexion paled immediately.
“Drug enforcement,” Durrand added.
“Oh, well, Elf’ll let you get to it then. Ciao,” he said and disappeared into the crowd, nimble as a wood sprite.
Eddy blinked. “I thought we were going to stick to our cover story.”
“Yeah.” Bending, Durrand added two more bags to his load. “And I thought you wouldn’t get hit on every minute and a half.”
Eddy snagged the last piece of luggage from the floor and hurried after him. “That wasn’t my fault.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Well…” His long-legged stride made it difficult to keep up. And the crowds weren’t helping. She skirted an elderly woman carrying a spotted piglet, reevaluated the anonymity of Bogotá’s airport, and cruised up beside Durrand. “You’re acting like it is.”
“Listen…” His voice was very low. A muscle jumped in his salt block jaw. “You want to get funky with Jamaica Joe and American Dad on your own time, that’s your business. But right now, I need a linguist, not a supermodel.”
“A…” She blinked up at him and laughed. “A supermodel?”
He narrowed his eyes, surveying the crowd as if expecting spies to pop out from behind every coffee bar, but he needn’t have bothered. No one cared about two low-budget American tourists. “I should have brought Sims,” he said.
“Sims?”
“He’s dumb as a post, but at least he’s male.”
She felt her spine stiffen. “You think I can’t do the job because I don’t have a penis?”
“I think I don’t have time to spend protecting your virtue.”
“There’s nothing you have to worry about protecting!”
His brows rose a quarter of an inch. She fought off a blush.
“I mean…” She cleared her throat. “I can take care of myself and my virtue.”
The right corner of his mouth rose a fraction of an inch, but if he was remembering the time they’d spent in the Blue Oyster’s latrine, he didn’t make mention. “We need to rent a room and a vehicle,” he said.
She nodded, pressing those embarrassing memories from her mind.
“Something with four-wheel drive. You think you can handle that without ending up engaged to some obnoxious joker?”
She pursed her lips. “What are your plans?”
“I’m going to ask a few questions. See what the locals know.”
“That’d be a better job for me,” she said.
He stared at her.
“They’d probably be less intimidated by a woman,” she explained.
His face was absolutely expressionless as he stared at her. “I like them more intimidated,” he said.
She considered arguing, but finally shook her head. “Fine. I’ll get the car. Do you want the extra insurance?”
Shifting the packs over his shoulder, he turned away. “Every dime you can get,” he said.