Flirting with Disaster Part 27

Dave smiled. "What did she do then?"

"Nothing. She just sat there staring at me. I felt so humiliated that I wanted to crawl under the counter. But then she reached into her wallet, pulled out a business card, and told me to come see her in the morning."

"She gave you a job?"

"Yes. I was so excited. Less so when I found out some of the things she had in mind, but excited just the same. She had me filing, answering phones, washing planes, cleaning oil stains off the pavement, making coffee. I swear if a toilet needed cleaning she handed me a scrub brush. She was loud, bra.s.sy, and intimidating, and I was terrified of her. I hoped that she'd take pity on me and let me have a little time in the air before I actually had the money to do it. But no. Until I had money on the table, I stayed on the ground.

"Eventually I went through ground school. Then came my first day in the air. I showed up and looked around for one of the regular instructors. But guess who was waiting for me? Marge. G.o.d, I was terrified."

"So how was it?"

Lisa sighed softly. "There were so many days when I hated that woman. She was so blunt and demanding that I felt totally inadequate. But then I'd see her nod a little, as if she approved of something, or she'd toss off a comment as she was walking away that told me that maybe I wasn't the worst student in the history of aviation. She never let up on me, never let me do anything half-a.s.sed, and she sure as h.e.l.l didn't take any att.i.tude. Then one day I turned around, and I was a pilot. And a d.a.m.ned good one at that. Looking back, I have her to thank for it."

"Does she still run Blue Diamond?"

"No. She died only a few years after I got my pilot's license. She was diagnosed with cancer, and within a couple of months she was dead." She paused. "Then the most amazing thing happened."

"Oh?"

"The day after her funeral, her attorney contacted me. It seemed that she'd left me something in her will."

"What was that?"

"A 1964 Piper Cherokee."

Dave's eyebrows flew up. "She left you a plane?"

"Yes. I was stunned. I just stood there in the attorney's office, staring at the keys. I think I ended up crying. I don't really remember. Then the attorney handed me a note she'd written to me."

Lisa leaned into the backseat, reached into her backpack, and grabbed her wallet. She opened it and reached into one of the pockets, extracting a folded, water-crinkled piece of paper and handing it to Dave. He opened it carefully and read: I thought I loved flying more than anyone on earth. Then I met you. Marge.

Only a few words. But they explained everything.

"So where is that plane now?" Dave asked.

"At the bottom of the Mercado River."

As Lisa slipped the note back into her wallet, Dave noticed her eyes glistening. He sat back in his seat, thinking that for somebody who swore she needed n.o.body she'd sure had a few good people in her life to help her along the way.

An hour later, they approached Santa Rios. When Lisa swung wide around the town to bring the plane in from the south, dropping lower and lower over the field where she intended to put it down, Dave started feeling queasy all over again. It was one thing to have a nonlethal landing on a nice, smooth runway. It was another thing to put a plane down in a b.u.mpy field. It wasn't as if his life flashed before his eyes, but he was definitely thinking about the extra life insurance he'd taken out last year and wishing he'd doubled the amount.

"Lighten up, Dave," Lisa said. "This is no big deal."

"I'm fine."

"You're clawing the seat. That's h.e.l.l on the upholstery."

Dave yanked his hands away and stuck them in his lap, but still they were sweating. When the plane finally touched down, though, she was right. Nice and smooth. Piece of cake.

She taxied the plane to the edge of the field and parked it behind a grove of trees, where it would be invisible from the dirt road that ran alongside the field a quarter mile in the distance.

"Any chance of somebody spotting the plane?" Dave asked.

"Nope. The next nearest farmhouse is five miles south of here."

They got out, grabbed their bags, and started the half-mile hike toward Sera's farmhouse in the distance.

"You say Sera's a midwife?" Dave asked.

"Yeah."

"So what's the connection between her and Adam?"

"That's the connection. Or at least, that's how it started out. He's an obstetrician. They bonded over babies. Actually, she's in love with him, but he pretends she's not. And he pretends he's not in love with her."

"That's an awful lot of pretending going on."

"Adam lost his wife three years ago, and he just hasn't gotten over it. I still don't know why he was moving to Chicago, where he'd never be able to see Sera again. I tried to suggest that those plans might be a little misguided on his part, but he turned deaf on me." She trudged on. "But you know, sometimes people are brought together over desperate situations."

Yeah, Dave thought. Dave thought. Sometimes they are. Sometimes they are.

A few minutes later, they went through a gate that led from the field into the barn area. A corral adjoining the barn contained two dappled gray ponies, who stuck their noses through the fence looking for attention.

Dave and Lisa reached the farmhouse. As they circled around to the front and climbed the steps to the porch, Sera came to the door, a pretty Hispanic woman who gave Lisa a heartfelt hug.

"I'm so glad you're here," Sera said. "I don't know what I'd have done without you."

"How is Adam doing?"

"He's good. I'm still worried, but for now, he's okay."

Lisa introduced Dave, and Sera gave him the same kind of hug she'd given Lisa.

"Thank you for coming, too," she said. "I don't even know who you are, but sometimes I think G.o.d sends angels, you know?"

Dave smiled. "Can't say as I've ever been called one of those."

"I have a feeling I'm going to be elevating you to sainthood before all this is over. Come with me."

She led them up a wide oak staircase to the second floor, then down the hall to a bedroom. Lisa stepped into the room.

"Adam," she said, the word rushing out on a huge breath of relief. She hurried to the man's bedside, then stopped suddenly. "I'm just dying to give you a great big hug. But if you've survived this far, I don't want to rock the boat."

"Ask my nurse if it's all right."

Lisa turned to Sera, who smiled at her. "That's just the kind of medicine he needs."

Lisa sat down on the bed and hugged Adam, gently but with the kind of sincerity people reserve only for those who mean the most to them. Adam returned her hug with equal enthusiasm. They seemed like two very good friends tied to each other with a family kind of closeness. No wonder the news of his death had shaken her up so much.

"Adam, this is Dave DeMarco. He's going to help us find Gabrio and get all of us out of here."

Dave approached Adam and shook his hand. "Lisa was pretty relieved to find out you were alive."

"The feeling was mutual, believe me," Adam said.

Dave turned to Sera. "Where does Gabrio live?"

"A small house on the east side of town. Ivan said he's been sick for a couple days and has been staying home. I think he's been sick ever since the night Adam was shot."

"Lisa and I will go talk to him."

"He may not even answer the door."

"I'll break in if I have to."

"That's going to scare the poor kid to death," Sera said.

"I'll take it as easy as I can. One way or the other, I guarantee you I'll get Lisa inside." He turned to Adam. "But if he still refuses to leave with us, that's all we can do. If I put him on that plane with us against his will, that's kidnapping, and that's a line I refuse to cross."

Adam sighed, then nodded. "Okay. I can't ask for more than that."

"We need to verify a time when he's there and his brother isn't," Dave said. "I want Ivan out of the mix."

"I can drive by their house this afternoon," Sera said. "If Gabrio's car is there and Ivan's isn't, it probably means that Ivan is at Esmerelda's, the bar where I work. He comes in there almost every day. I can keep an eye on him until you talk to Gabrio."

"Good. That'll work."

"What about another vehicle?" Lisa asked. "We're going to need two."

"I still have my father's old car out in the barn," Sera said. "It's not much, but it'll get you there."

"Is there gas in it?"

"Should be. I drive it every once in a while and I filled it up recently."

Adam turned to Sera. "What if Ivan decides he wants to leave the bar before you get back here with Gabrio?"

"I'll persuade him to stay," Sera said.

"Watch yourself," Adam said. "Please."

"I'll be fine."

He reached out to her. "Come here."

She sat down beside him. He took her hand. "I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn't stop me from worrying about you. Just please be careful."

She traced her fingertips over his cheek. "I will."

Dave gave Lisa a subtle but distinct "it seems you were right" look.

"What time do you go to work?" Dave asked Sera.

"Four o'clock."

"We'll plan on moving out then."

chapter eighteen.

Gabrio sat on his kitchen floor, leaning against the wall, a sense of dread closing over him until he could barely breathe. As the wall clock ticked off the seconds, he looked around the room, thinking how shabby this house was compared to the house in the U.S. that he'd lived in when his mother had been alive. He remembered it being clean and neat, with the smell of dinner cooking-something good and hot and filling. In this house there were layers of dust and grime, the musty odor of leaking pipes and mold, and he couldn't remember when dinner had been more than something eaten fast just to keep body and soul together.

He rested his head against the wall behind him and closed his eyes. He hadn't thought to turn off the television in the other room, and the voices lulled his already sleepy mind. He felt dizzy and light-headed, and he couldn't make himself think straight no matter how hard he tried.

G.o.d, he was tired. So tired.

It was only a matter of time. Sera would get Adam to a hospital if she hadn't already, and sooner or later everyone would find out he wasn't dead after all. And then all h.e.l.l would break loose. He was surprised it hadn't already.

Just tell Ivan. Tell him what you did.

After all, it would be better, wouldn't it, to tell his brother what had happened before word got back that Adam was alive? That way Ivan would have a heads-up in dealing with the other men and be ready to protect him. And he would protect him, wouldn't he?

Gabrio had tried to make himself believe that. Tried with all his might. But he knew better. He'd seen what Ivan and the others did to guys who f.u.c.ked up. He'd seen seen it. It would make no difference that he and Ivan were bound by blood, because he knew his brother had loyalties stronger than that. it. It would make no difference that he and Ivan were bound by blood, because he knew his brother had loyalties stronger than that.

Gabrio had a thought about running, but what would be the point? No matter where he went, they'd find him. And where would he go even if he wanted to leave? He had no friends anyplace else and no family. What was in this town and in this house was all he had.

From the floor beside him he picked up the gun. He brushed the cool barrel against the side of his head, resting it there, wondering if that was best. Then he put the barrel in his mouth, the metal clicking against his teeth. He removed it again and stared at it, wishing he'd never even touched a gun before, wishing he lived someplace where they weren't a cold, hard fact of life. And death.

He put the barrel of the gun against his temple again, stroking it through rivulets of sweat. He wondered if he'd see his mother. Oh, Jesus, he hoped so. If he did it right, it might hurt for a second, but then all the pain would disappear and he'd see nothing but light. He closed his eyes and wrapped his finger around the trigger, his hand trembling, and gritted his teeth. He only hoped that suicide really wasn't a mortal sin and that G.o.d would have mercy on him.

Dave steered the old Buick down the alley behind the street where Gabrio lived, thinking that there had to be a neighborhood in Tolosa as c.r.a.ppy as this one, but he didn't think he'd ever seen it. The houses were cinder block, most of them unpainted, their overgrown yards scattered with junk.

Just after four o'clock, Sera had phoned back to her house from Esmerelda's to tell them that she'd driven by Gabrio's house and found his car there and that Ivan, true to form, was at the bar drinking himself into oblivion. She promised she'd find a way to keep him there until they called to tell her the coast was clear. Dave intended to make quick work of this. Get in, get out, and do everything he could in between to make sure the kid left with them.

"That's the house," Lisa said.

Dave brought the car to a halt in the alley behind the house Lisa indicated, killing the engine.

"We're going in the back?" she asked.

"Less conspicuous. I still don't want anyone knowing we're back in town. Do you think he'll come to the door if he sees it's you?"

"I can't say for sure. If he doesn't, what's Plan B?"