corner of his mouth. She sure had lousy timing.
Quico came running back in from the patio, a half a dozen papers in his arms. “I found them all, Josh. Today’s and yesterday’s.”
Josh looked up, then checked his watch. “No time now,
amigo
. Stuff them in my satchel and go ask your mama how much I owe her.”
“You’re leaving?” Disappointment stopped the boy in his tracks.
“ ‘Fraid so. I’ve got a long overdue date with a lady.”
“A woman?” Quico asked, as if that was a most unacceptable reason for leaving a good buddy.
A woman? Josh repeated silently. He didn’t really know. In some ways she’d been old beyond her years, even at seventeen and eighteen, and the night she’d made love with him had transcended any and all boundaries of age or experience. But to leave him without a word? He didn’t know if that had been the act of a frightened girl or a calculating woman. It was time to find out.
Six
The city was coming apart at the seams, seething with revolt and defiance. Fires burned in the barrio, their flames brightening the night sky to the east of the Plaza District. Any day now, Nikki knew the fires would be burning right outside the Paloma Grand Hotel, the smoke blackening the white marble columns and darkening the view from her second floor apartment. The crowds were already spilling into the downtown area, armed with rocks and slogans.
Honking her horn and swearing in short bursts, she maneuvered her Chevy through the throng of people in the street. Three days in the jungle had left her in no mood to do vehicular battle. She was exhausted, emotionally and physically, running on empty in all departments except for an overabundance of nervous energy. Two blocks from the Paloma, she gave up on driving and pulled over to the curb. She’d have to walk.
The moment she stopped, a rock bounced off the hood of the car. She flinched at the thudding sound, feeling her first pang of fear. Damn Delgado for keeping her hanging around Sulaco all day. She should have left the northern village where he was holed up early that morning. She should have been home long before the nightly riots began, but he’d made it clear from the beginning that if she wanted to deal with him, it would be on his terms and on his schedule. He had a country to claim.
Without any facts to back her up, and despite his gratitude for her warning phone call, she’d had a difficult time convincing him that it was in his best interest to make sure nothing happened to Joshua Rios. But she’d done it. She had all of her players in place: her mother on the brink of freedom; Travinas pacing his office day in and day out, waiting for word of Josh’s arrival; and Delgado ready to use his men to cover the supposed hostage exchange and ensure everyone’s safety. The only player missing was Josh. Her week-long attempts to contact him through his newspaper had resulted in nothing. No one knew where he was, but neither had there been any news of his death.
Nikki reached over to the passenger seat and slipped the strap of her duffel bag over her shoulder. She sat for a moment, eyeing the moving crowd and waiting for a break. When it came, she got out of the car and was immediately swept into the mass of shouting humanity.
* * *
Josh stood in the shadows at the south end of the Paloma’s entrance. For two days he’d been watching the hotel, calling her apartment, and keeping a low profile, all the while fighting the sinking feeling that he was too late. If she didn’t show up that night, he’d have to blow his cover and start some serious looking. He didn’t dare wait any longer if she was in trouble, because nobody he’d ever met knew more about getting into trouble than Nikki Kydd.
The crowd pressed up to the hotel’s portico, and he had to struggle to hold his ground. Someone stepped on his foot. Another man fell against his back. Josh swore at each accidental assault, but when a sharp elbow caught him in the side,
Quico came running back in from the patio, a half a dozen papers in his arms. “I found them all, Josh. Today’s and yesterday’s.”
Josh looked up, then checked his watch. “No time now,
amigo
. Stuff them in my satchel and go ask your mama how much I owe her.”
“You’re leaving?” Disappointment stopped the boy in his tracks.
“ ‘Fraid so. I’ve got a long overdue date with a lady.”
“A woman?” Quico asked, as if that was a most unacceptable reason for leaving a good buddy.
A woman? Josh repeated silently. He didn’t really know. In some ways she’d been old beyond her years, even at seventeen and eighteen, and the night she’d made love with him had transcended any and all boundaries of age or experience. But to leave him without a word? He didn’t know if that had been the act of a frightened girl or a calculating woman. It was time to find out.
Six
The city was coming apart at the seams, seething with revolt and defiance. Fires burned in the barrio, their flames brightening the night sky to the east of the Plaza District. Any day now, Nikki knew the fires would be burning right outside the Paloma Grand Hotel, the smoke blackening the white marble columns and darkening the view from her second floor apartment. The crowds were already spilling into the downtown area, armed with rocks and slogans.
Honking her horn and swearing in short bursts, she maneuvered her Chevy through the throng of people in the street. Three days in the jungle had left her in no mood to do vehicular battle. She was exhausted, emotionally and physically, running on empty in all departments except for an overabundance of nervous energy. Two blocks from the Paloma, she gave up on driving and pulled over to the curb. She’d have to walk.
The moment she stopped, a rock bounced off the hood of the car. She flinched at the thudding sound, feeling her first pang of fear. Damn Delgado for keeping her hanging around Sulaco all day. She should have left the northern village where he was holed up early that morning. She should have been home long before the nightly riots began, but he’d made it clear from the beginning that if she wanted to deal with him, it would be on his terms and on his schedule. He had a country to claim.
Without any facts to back her up, and despite his gratitude for her warning phone call, she’d had a difficult time convincing him that it was in his best interest to make sure nothing happened to Joshua Rios. But she’d done it. She had all of her players in place: her mother on the brink of freedom; Travinas pacing his office day in and day out, waiting for word of Josh’s arrival; and Delgado ready to use his men to cover the supposed hostage exchange and ensure everyone’s safety. The only player missing was Josh. Her week-long attempts to contact him through his newspaper had resulted in nothing. No one knew where he was, but neither had there been any news of his death.
Nikki reached over to the passenger seat and slipped the strap of her duffel bag over her shoulder. She sat for a moment, eyeing the moving crowd and waiting for a break. When it came, she got out of the car and was immediately swept into the mass of shouting humanity.
* * *
Josh stood in the shadows at the south end of the Paloma’s entrance. For two days he’d been watching the hotel, calling her apartment, and keeping a low profile, all the while fighting the sinking feeling that he was too late. If she didn’t show up that night, he’d have to blow his cover and start some serious looking. He didn’t dare wait any longer if she was in trouble, because nobody he’d ever met knew more about getting into trouble than Nikki Kydd.
The crowd pressed up to the hotel’s portico, and he had to struggle to hold his ground. Someone stepped on his foot. Another man fell against his back. Josh swore at each accidental assault, but when a sharp elbow caught him in the side,
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