Life Blood Part 32

With a final warning to watch out for myself, he took down my hotel number and hung up. Truthfully, he was sounding pretty tired and weak, not nearly his old self.

Well, he had a right to be. But at least there were no complications.

My next call was going to be to David Roth, to check in on things at Applecore, but first I wanted to order up some_ huevos rancheros_, get some breakfast protein. I was becoming energized by the prospect of progress, and being that way always makes me ravenous. It's probably a primal female response that has a Latin name.

I checked out the number for room service, and was literally reaching for the black phone when it rang of its own accord. Startled I picked up the receiver, wondering who had my number.

"h.e.l.lo." It was a man's voice that sounded vaguely familiar. "Thought I'd check in and see how things are going with your search."

"Hi," I answered back after a pause, trying to place his intonation.

"Oh, sorry. Barry Morton. Remember me? Fortress America. You came by the office yesterday."

"How . . . ?" Why was he calling me? "How did you get this--?"

"You must have accidentally put the wrong hotel on your landing card as your address in Guatemala City." He hesitated a second then said "But I had my secretary call around and . . . well, it happens all the time."

"I see." It did have the ring of logic. And I had put down a different hotel. A safety measure. "Do you always take this much . . . interest in your fellow citizens?"

"Only when they come to see me personally." He chuckled. "So how's it going?"

"Well, thanks for calling," I said. "Everything's moving along."

"Good, good." There was another pause, then, "Incidentally, you having any luck finding that Ninos del Mundo place you were looking for?"

I hesitated, wondering why he would ask and also unsure what to say.

"Not yet," I volunteered. My G.o.d, it finally dawned on me. The guy was tracking me. He wanted to know what I knew. "You come up with anything at your end?"

"I've been busy, a string of meetings, but I still think you might want to check out the phone book." It was the second time he'd made the suggestion. He was practically ordering me to do it. Why? "You never know. I'm afraid that's about the best I can do."

"Maybe I will," I said. "I've been a little busy too."

The phone call was feeling stranger and stranger. He was sending me to see something, probably in hopes it would make me go away. It was actually more unnerving than if he'd done nothing at all.

"Well, in any case, I hope you have a good visit," he declared diplomatically. Another pause. "Planning to be here long?"

"I'm not sure yet." Why did he want to know that?

"I see. Whatever happens, I hope you find what you're looking for. Best of luck."

He hung up, leaving me with the feeling he already knew the answer to every question he'd asked. The guys at the airport, and now the emba.s.sy--I was the best-known tourist in the country.

Okay, maybe I should just play along and see what happens. In any case, I'd just lost my appet.i.te for fried eggs with hot sauce, but I had a definite interest in the phone book.

And there they were. Ninos del Mundo. Complete with an address, way out the Boulevar R. Aguilar Batres.

Well, why not see where it leads you? Sarah's card said the place was in the Peten, but who knows?

I got up off the bed and went into the bathroom for a shampoo and shower. Despite the fact that Barry Morton wanted me to see this Ninos del Mundo place, whatever it was, I didn't want to show up looking and smelling like some bedraggled tourist. I'd wear my tailored blue suit, which, along with the dark blue heels, ought to make me look adequately businesslike.

The shower was wonderful, purging away the soot of the park, and I was wrapping my hair in a large beige towel when the phone jangled again. I tucked in the edge to secure it and walked over. Maybe it was Lou ringing back.

No such luck. The caller was none other than my brand-new partner Alan Dupre. I was not thrilled to hear his voice. Was he about to get cold feet and back out?

"Morgan, listen," he said, not wasting time on niceties, "there's been a small change of plans. I've--"

"Alan, don't do this to me." You s.h.i.t. "You agreed--"

"No, why I'm calling is, we've got to go ahead and go up today, storm or no, G.o.d help us. You happy now?"

What? After that neurotic song-and-dance he'd just given me in the park? I should have been overjoyed, but something about the whole thing immediately felt synthetic. I paused a long moment, trying to think the situation through. What was going on?

The answer to that was clear as day. I was being set up. Somebody wanted me out of town, and they'd just found a way.

Or was I being paranoid again? Had the weather cleared? I reached over and pushed aside a curtain. Nope, it looked as threatening as ever.

No question. This was definitely a setup.

On the other hand why not use whoever had put him up to this? This told me for sure I was on the trail of Sarah, and the sooner I got going, the better. Aside from calling New York and then checking out the local Ninos del Mundo that Barry Morton wanted me to see so badly, I had no other pressing plans. . . .

"Alan, I thought you declared no 'effing' way were you going to go today," I said testing him. "Why the sudden revision in scheduling?"

"Yeah, well, something heavy's come up for tomorrow. I'm afraid it's gotta be now or forget it for at least a week."

Unrefined bulls.h.i.t. But somebody knew how badly I wanted to go.

"Look, there's something I need to check out first. I just learned about a place here in town I want to at least see. It's also called Ninos del Mundo."

"No s.h.i.t." He paused. "Okay, we'll talk about it. Get the address and maybe we can cruise by if there's time. Thing is, we don't have all that much leeway here."

"One last question." I thought I'd give him a final shot at the truth.

"Just tell me honestly why it has to be today. The real story."

"Like I said everything's changed." He wasn't budging. "So if we're doing this, I've got to pick you up now and get us on our merry way."

He was too cheerful by half, which definitely told me he was lying.

"All right, but I really need to make at least one phone call first." I wanted Steve to know where I was. "And if I walk out of here with a bag, I've got to let the desk know I'm not skipping on the bill."

"Forget the phone call. No time. Do it after we get back. Just be out front in exactly nineteen minutes. This is not a dry run. The train is leaving. I'm outta here now."

There was a click and he was gone.

I sat there a moment staring at the floor. What was I getting into?

Well, there's one way to find out. Play their game and beat them.

There's no better way to get inside what's going on.