My Love Betrayed (17 page)

My voice broke then, and Edna patted my
shoulder. Again, Greg cleared his throat. “Ahem.
Yes, well, this only confirms my decision. Ellen,
I’m going to try to arrange for Carlos Zapora to be
placed in charge of the computer project. Today.
I’ve spoken with the police, and they still won’t let
you leave the country, but at least you’ll be able to
relax and try to enjoy yourself.”

I sat there, stunned. Not work anymore? Try to
relax? Rest? Not see Carlos or Jaime or Eduardo
or Luiz? Not see Charles, when he got back? (No,
of course I would see Charles.) Some of the dismay
must have shown on my face, because I suddenly
realized Greg was saying, “…was supposed to be
temporary. And it’s essential to move someone
permanent in there as soon as possible.”

Hastily, I tried to pull myself together. “Yes, yes,
of course I understand.”

He seemed relieved. “Good. Payroll and accounting is still in the process of arranging with
Chicago about crediting your salary. I hope that
isn’t a problem for you?”

I shook my head. “No, I brought more than
enough, in traveler’s checks, for a two-week stay.
And since I’m not paying for a hotel, it will stretch
quite a bit longer.”

He nodded, satisfied, and started to rise.
Obviously, breakfast was going to be very short this morning. As Edna put it, “You wouldn’t want
to be late, your last day on the job!”

We weren’t. In fact, when I reached the office, I
found I was the first one there. Quietly, I sat at my
desk, sorting the papers and programs. When
Carlos walked in and saw that, for once, the top of
my desk looked neat, he looked startled. Then he
grinned and pretended to check the number on the
door. In mock dismay, he said, “Si, this is the right
room. The senorita must be sick today!”

I burst out laughing. “Come off it, Carlos! It’s
not that bad.”

But he still looked concerned. “Has something
happened?”

I hesitated uneasily. Was it okay to tell him, or
was I still bound to my promise to Greg Iveson to
keep quiet? Fortunately, before I had to decide,
the other men walked in. Right away, they started
teasing Carlos about his brother. And, it seemed,
Carlos forgot his concern.

Greg, however, did not forget his promise.
Shortly before lunchtime, Concepcion knocked at
the door to our office. “Si?” Carlos asked
impatiently.

There was a short conversation in Spanish.
Then Carlos shrugged and turned to me. “We are
asked to come to the conference room. But not,
this time, to see the police.”

I swallowed and nodded. If Carlos found my
silence odd, he didn’t say so. We just followed
Concepcion.

Carlos was right: it wasn’t the police. Instead,
we found five men, one of them Mr. Iveson, in the conference room. They were seated; Carlos and I
remained standing. The oldest one performed the
introductions. “Mr. Zapora. Miss Steffee. How do
you do? This is Mr. Padgett, Mr. Lynn, Mr.
Iveson, Mr. Burgess, and myself, Mr. Thayer. I
understand that the two of you have, more or less,
been running the computer project this past week.
I also understand, Miss Steffee, that you are from
the Chicago branch, and that you interrupted your
vacation to give us a hand. That was very good of
you. I’m pleased to say, however, that that will no
longer be necessary. We’ve decided to give Mr.
Zapora a chance to take over and show us what he
can do.”

He turned to Carlos. “You come highly
recommended, young man! And, speaking of
recommendations, Miss Steffee, we will be sending an excellent report to the Chicago office on
your work here. Now, Mr. Zapora, I understand
you have three assistants, and I also understand
that three will be sufficient. I’m very pleased to
hear it. Do you have any questions?”

Carlos shook his head. “No, sir.”

I hesitated, then said, “If if I could be of
further assistance, Mr. Thayer, I’d be happy to
continue to help out here for the rest of my, er,
vacation.”

“No, no,” his genial voice replied. “You just go
ahead and enjoy your vacation, Miss Steffee.
You’ve certainly earned it and we can’t, won’t,
impose on you any longer! Now, Zapora, we need
to have the system set up by July. In your opinion,
is that possible?”

Carlos made a very good impression on them.
He considered the question, then answered in
measured tones, his English excellent. Basically,
he gave them the only acceptable answer: yes.

“Good, good. Well, then, we won’t keep you
from your work. Good luck to both of you!” Mr.
Thayer concluded.

It was clearly a dismissal, and we gratefully took
it. Together, we left the room. Carlos was too
stunned to ask any questions of me, but the other
men, when we got back, were not. As soon as we
walked in the door, they were all on their feet,
asking in Spanish, “What happened?”

It took Carlos a moment to answer, but then his
excitement matched theirs. By unanimous agreement, we headed out to lunch to celebrate.

Over the beer, Carlos managed to ask me, “But
how?” Then, “Did you know?”

I nodded. “Mr. Iveson told me a few days ago
that he expected the promotion to go through. But
he asked me to keep it a secret.” Impulsively, I
added, “I’m so glad for you, Carlos. You should be
in charge!”

He grinned, then sobered. “But you. What will
you do? Go back to the United States?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. The police still want
me here. I don’t know why, unless they think I did
have something to do with Rick and the
smuggling. But then why haven’t they arrested
me?”

Carlos didn’t have any answer, and I didn’t
expect him to. Finally, he said, “Well, what will
you do?”

I thought about it for a while before answering.
“Right now, I’m still too nervous to play tourist
alone in Mexico City. I suppose I’ll relax. Maybe
take Mrs. Iveson up on her offer to show me
around. Maybe ask her to show me some of the
nearby archaeological sites. I’ve always been
fascinated by things like that, and I can’t imagine a
better guide.”

“What sites?” Eduardo asked, joining the
conversation.

“Xochicalco and some of the others,” I said.

Eduardo nodded. “Xochicalco is very impressive. You will like it, I think.”

“You’ve been there?” I asked.

“Si. Once. A long time ago.”

“Also,” Jaime broke in, “you should see
Xochimilco, the floating gardens.”

Luiz and Carlos nodded. So, for a while, we
discussed places to see. Each of the men had his
favorites. In fact, we got back to the office a little
late, but no one cared. The work was going well,
and the news of Carlos’s promotion had deserved a
celebration. Well, a few toasts with beer, anyway;
we did have work to do that afternoon.

While Luiz, Eduardo, and Jaime ran a couple of
programs, Carlos and I went over the work on my
desk. It didn’t take long. I’d only been there a week
and, except for information about Rick’s programming habits, the men were much more
familiar with the project than I was.

Still, Carlos was nice enough to insist that my
work had been important. “Si!” he said emphatically. “Rick Kemmler would never explain, and it is not always so easy to read another’s programs.
You have saved us a month, perhaps two. And,” he
added, with a grin, “it was fun.”

I laughed, knowing I would miss them all very
much, and I said so.

At quitting time, we all shook hands gravely,
under Mr. Iveson’s watchful eyes. Then it was
over, and Greg and I were leaving. He seemed to
understand how I felt and, tactfully, said little on
the ride home.

Once there, I slipped away to my room.

When I came down for dinner, Edna was
waiting for me on the patio. Impulsively, she
hugged me. “Ellen! Greg told me the good news! I
hear you’re completely free of the office now.” She
paused and, ever observant, caught my mood.
“Or, maybe, you’re not so happy about it? Yes, yes,
I know you’re too generous to begrudge that
fellow, Zapora, the promotion. But I can see that
working might have been a help to you this past
week. It must have kept you from brooding about
Rick Kemmler, and everything. Well, we’ll just
have to find you something equally distracting,
now that the job is over.”

Grateful for Edna’s perception, I said, “You’ve
got it, exactly. I’ve always hated the feeling of
helplessness, and that’s what I am now. Helpless.
At least, while I was working, I felt in control of
something! Even if it was often frustrating,” I
added, with a wry grin.

“And you can’t even go home now,” Edna said
sympathetically.

“I wish I could!” I said grimly. “And yet, I don’t
really feel ready to face the people I know there and answer their questions about Rick. Crazy,
isn’t it?”

“No, I don’t think it’s crazy at all,” Edna
answered thoughtfully. “If you could do it, the
ideal thing would be for you to leave Mexico City
and go back to the States. But not to Chicago.
Anywhere but Chicago, for a week or two. Then,
go home. But you can’t.”

We were both silent then for a few minutes.
Finally, Edna said gently, “Ellen, why are the
police still so interested in you? Do you know? Or
have you any idea?”

I shook my head. “No. Unless Rick…”

I let it trail off, unable to tell Edna what had
happened. But she wouldn’t let it rest. Persistently,
she probed, “Unless Rick what?”

Biting my lower lip, I shrugged. “Unless Rick
told them some sort of story, claiming I was
involved.”

“Were you? No, don’t look at me like that,
Ellen!” she said sharply. “I’m not suggesting you
willingly helped Rick. I just meant that maybe he
somehow used you.”

I laughed bitterly. “He did! As a smoke screen.”

“But, dear—”

“Please, Edna!” I snapped. “I just don’t want to
talk about it! I can’t! If you’re worried about
harboring a criminal, I’ll be happy to move back to
a hotel.”

Behind me, someone coughed. We both turned
to see Greg standing in the doorway, staring at us.
His face was stern as he said, “Edna, I won’t have
you badgering our guest! Ellen, there’s no need to
leave. Unless, of course, you really want to. But I would like you to understand that neither Edna
nor I consider you a criminal. And we do enjoy
having you as our guest.”

He continued to stare sternly at Edna, who said
hastily, “Oh, Ellen, I really didn’t mean to offend
you. I suppose it’s being so relatively isolated, but I
can’t help being curious. You are the first,” she
added reflectively, “real-life heroine I’ve met. At
least, the first, in some time.”

Impossible to stay angry with Edna, who, after
all, had been so kind to me these last few days. So I
smiled and said, “I understand.”

In a way, of course, I did. Gossip is a universal
fact of life. Still, I found myself oddly disappointed in Edna. It was Greg who was the
peacemaker. After dinner, Edna excused herself,
saying she was tired. I would have gone to my
room, too, but Greg stopped me. He said as I stood
up, “Wait, Ellen, I’d like to talk to you.” He waited
until I sat down to go on. “I’d like to explain about
Edna; I know she upset you earlier. Yes, I do have
to explain. You see, we’ve never had children, and
I think Edna really minds not having been a
mother. Whenever there’s a young person around,
especially one with problems, she can’t resist
trying to mother them. Usually in a discreet,
inoffensive way. In your case, Edna is rather more
concerned. She has a theory that Rick Kemmler
somehow used you maybe to hide some of the
stolen gems. If we knew how he had used you, we
might be able to protect you.”

“How?” I demanded bluntly.

He shrugged. “That probably depends on how
you were used. If Rick did hide something with you, you can see why you’re in danger! We’d find it
and turn it over to the proper people, and then
there would be no reason for anyone to go on
attacking you.”

“And if it’s simply revenge?” I asked.

He was quiet a moment, then sighed. “Then,
Ellen, I just don’t know.”

“Well, I’m sorry!” I said. “But I just don’t want
to think about it. I can’t.”

Greg Iveson sighed again, and I realized he was
honestly disappointed. “Very well, my dear,” he
said gently, “I won’t press you anymore. Go get
some sleep. But, if you can’t sleep, try to think
about what I said. Okay? Good night, dear.”

“Good night,” I echoed. Then I fled to my room.

I thought, all right. It would have been
impossible not to. But the only conclusion I could
come to was that I wished Charles were here. If
Rick had used me, he had been awfully subtle
about it!

Morning. There was no need for the maid to
wake me. Dawn had done that, through gay,
lightweight curtains. I hadn’t bothered to draw the
heavier drapes the night before. No use to try to
sleep any longer. I swung my feet over the edge of
the bed and settled them into the slippers I had
brought from home. Then I pulled on my soft,
long robe, tying the belt around my hips. And, in
the huge, comfortable chair in the corner of my
room, I curled up to think. Inevitably, my
thoughts went to Charles.