Pearls (33 page)

A bloody hand wrapped around her arm. “No use—” He coughed and a spray of blood spattered across the dash.

Bile rose in Isabel’s throat, and she fought to control the tidal wave of panic sweeping through her. She’d lived this situation only days earlier with Manuel. She did not want to watch another man bleed and suffer.

“Don’t talk that way, Raúl. I can’t do this alone. I need you now.”

“Pull over.”

“You need a doctor.”

“Pull over.”

“No!”

Her refusal upset him, and he struggled to grab the wheel. The effort demanded more strength than he had to give, and he fell back against the seat, moaning and clutching his wound. “Stop, please.”

Tears streaming down her face, Isabel steered the car to the side of the road and came to a stop. Leaning across him, she rummaged in the glove box for some supplies to use as first aid. “They’re probably right behind us. We can’t afford to stop.”

“No. They can’t follow.”

“Why not?”

“I have the keys to my car. We have their vehicle.” His voice sounded weaker than moments before, and Isabel frantically searched for a way to help him. She wadded some tissues she’d found and pressed them to the seeping wound in his chest.

He pushed her hand away. “Don’t. It’s too late.”

She shook her head, sobbing. “I won’t let you die.”

“No choice. It’s too late for me.” He coughed and a line of blood trickled down his chin.

Isabel dabbed at the disturbing red stream, noting the glazed look stealing into his eyes. Acceptance of the inevitable crept in and settled heavily in her gut.

“Why did you do that, Raúl? Why did you jump in front of me when he shot?”

He drew a labored breath. “I love you.”

She swallowed the painful knot in her throat. He’d stepped in front of a bullet for her. She repented for every angry, vengeful thought she’d had toward him during the last month.

“Isabel, I’m sorry I got you into this. I only wanted to give you the best … needed the money … wish I could change what I’ve done … how I’ve lived.”

His eyelids drooped and closed, and she watched the life draining from him. His breathing grew shallow. “Wish I’d been a better man.”

Isabel felt the jolting change in the atmosphere and knew what she needed to do. “Raúl, listen to me. You can’t change how you lived, but you have time to choose something better before—” She swallowed hard, unable to say the words aloud. “Please, ask Christ to be your Savior.”

“It’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. Life dealt you some harsh blows, Raúl, and pride and stubbornness helped you cope. But those attributes won’t help you where you’re going.” She knotted her fists in frustration. “You said you wanted a piece of the goodness you see in me. Take it, Raúl.”

He gasped and clutched his chest, muscles straining against the pain. “I want to, but I don’t know how.”

“Don’t talk any more. I’ll pray out loud, and you pray in your heart. God hears and He’ll honor your request.”

Knowing time was short, Isabel bowed her head and prayed with more fervency than she’d ever before felt. When every last impassioned plea had spilled from her lips, she opened her eyes and found him staring at her, a look of wonder on his face. “I felt Him. Like a wind of peace.”

Isabel dropped her face into her hands and wept, overcome with relief and gratitude.

His hoarse whisper interrupted her tears. “I loved you. Never doubt that.”

A hiccupping sob escaped her throat as she nodded. “I loved you, too, Raúl. Despite everything, I still care very much about you.”

“Thank you for sharing your God with me.”

She blinked rapidly and sniffed.

“See you …” He coughed more blood and labored to draw another breath. “See you … up there.”

Isabel leaned toward him and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I look forward to it.” As she held his hand in hers and wept, he shuddered and drew his final breath. She rested her head against his shoulder, tears falling on his chest and mixing with his blood. “Go with God, my friend.”

Isabel didn’t know how long she sat staring out the window before the chirp of a cellular phone penetrated the grief-induced fog in her mind. Her hand closed around the phone sitting in the cupholder, left there by her captors. She lifted it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“You shouldn’t have run away.”

“I shouldn’t have been a prisoner in the first place. You started this.”

“And I will finish it. Do you remember my promise? I still have your friend.”

The blood in Isabel’s veins ran cold.

Manuel. God forgive me.

In her haste to save Raúl and escape her captors, she had abandoned Manuel. She remembered their last conversation and his instructions for her to do whatever she could to escape, even to the extent of sacrificing him to save herself.

She had done just that, and the guilt was nearly unbearable. “You won’t hurt him. You need him to show you where the treasure is.”

The man on the other end of the line growled. “Yes. Raúl was clever to mislead us, but we won’t make the same mistake again. Manuel will lead us to the treasure, and then he’ll pay for your disobedience.”

The line went dead, and Isabel’s heart died with it. Manuel remained in the hands of the enemy, and her choice to flee had sealed his fate.
God help me.

Fear turned to anger and anger to determination. She wouldn’t hide somewhere cowering in fear while Manuel remained in their clutches. Drawing a deep breath, she turned the key in the ignition. She needed to report her kidnapping and make arrangements for Raúl’s body. The police would know how to help her. She lifted the cellular phone and dialed information.

“I need a number for Detective Ramirez, Caracas Police Department.”

Manuel stared at the ceiling, stronger after three days of rest and medication but no less frustrated. His failure to protect Isabel in her time of greatest need burned like acid in his gut. He had last seen her two days ago. Was she still alive? If he lost her, he’d lose his heart, too, and live the rest of his life as half the man he could have been with her at his side.

He closed his eyes and released his pain to God as he had so many times in the last few days. With lives hanging in the balance, he found it difficult to accept his helplessness and trust in God. But wasn’t this the time to depend on Him the most? The same thoughts had swirled about his head for days, and he had grown weary of his lack of faith.

Maybe some food would distract him.

He pushed to a sitting position and waited while his body adjusted. Because of his blood loss, he remained weak and dizzy, but he’d been able to eat the last two days. His strength was slowly returning.

Just as he reached for a piece of fruit, the door flew open and his captors entered.

“Get your shoes on!” The ringleader tossed him a disdainful look.

“Are we leaving?”

“You’re going to show us where the treasure is hidden.”

“What about Isabel? Where is she?”

“Your girlfriend was not so helpful.”

Fear and anger flared in Manuel’s chest. “Did you hurt her?”

The man’s lip pulled up in a sneer. “She chose not to cooperate. I hope you are smarter.”

As Manuel pulled on his shoes and followed them to the car, he mulled over the conversation. The men’s body language said they were agitated and frustrated, as if Isabel had thwarted their plans.
Did you escape, Isabel? Did you run like I told you?

An ancient truck covered in rust sat in front of the shack.

“What happened to your fancy SUV?” he asked one of the men.

The man only growled and shoved him inside the decrepit vehicle.

If anyone could outsmart these thugs, Isabel could. She had proved she was a resourceful woman.

As they pulled away from the compound, a slow smile spread across his face.

Isabel drove into the small town where Detective Ramirez had asked her to meet him. He was there, waiting in the street with a team of men who took over the care of Raúl’s body and began a search of the vehicle.

His face showed alarm when she slid from the truck. “Good heavens, Isabel, are you hurt?”

Isabel glanced down at her clothes and realized how startling she must look. She still wore the shirt stained with Manuel’s blood, now dried to a crusty black. Raúl’s blood, red and sticky, dotted her clothes and smeared over her hands. “It’s not my blood,” she muttered, fighting tears.

With fatherly concern he guided her into a building-turned-command-center and showed her to a restroom where she could wash. A female officer brought her a change of clothes and some basic toiletries. When she’d finished cleaning up, she joined the detective in a small waiting area. Isabel glanced around, overwhelmed by the number of people and the buzz of activity. “Are you in charge here?”

He laughed. “No. The federal government is handling this operation. They let me tag along because I’ve supplied key information and a star witness.”

Isabel offered a faint smile. “What’s being done to find Manuel?”

“Everything possible. But you could help us immensely. We would like to interview you about your captors and the locations they took you. Anything you tell us could narrow the search.”

“I don’t know where they took me, but I know where they’re going.”

“You do?”

“They want the pearls, and aside from me, Manuel is the only one who can lead them there.”

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “You need to give this information to the men in charge. We may not have much time.”

Isabel sat by the police scanner, listening to the sound of radio static. One of the lookouts had warned of an approaching vehicle, and the strike teams had gone to radio silence. It wouldn’t be long now.

Isabel fidgeted. “They won’t shoot him, will they?”

Detective Ramirez, also listening intently to the static, jumped at her question. “Who?”

“Manuel. They’ll be careful not to shoot him if bullets start flying?”

“Don’t worry, Isabel. They have pictures of him and know to protect his life at all costs.”

Isabel nodded, but the knot in her stomach didn’t go away. Just a few miles down the road at the ruins of the old mission, the feds had laid a careful trap for Isabel’s kidnappers. The pearls were the bait, and busting a crime ring was the prize. Manuel was an unfortunate participant in the scenario.

She caught herself chewing on her nails and frowned. “How much longer?”

“Anytime now.” Detective Ramirez patted her hand.

“Can’t we start driving over there? By the time we arrive it’ll be over.”

“You know the rules, Isabel. They didn’t have to let us come this close. We wait here until they radio that the operation is complete and the area is secure.”

She blew out an exasperated breath.

“The strike team is well-trained, Isabel. Trust them to do their job ….”

Shouting from the radio interrupted him. “Police! We have you surrounded. Drop your weapons and put your hands—”

A gunshot answered the police commands. The next few minutes sounded like a nightmare of violence. Muscles clenched in terror, Isabel listened to the exchange of gunfire, shouts, and pain-filled screams filtering through the radio.

She couldn’t breathe.

The shots slowed to an occasional pop and finally ceased.

A voice came through the system. “The hostage is down. Repeat, the hostage has been shot. Medical team, stand by. We are securing the area.”

“Manuel!” Isabel jumped up, knocking her chair over in her haste for the door. “We have to go.”

“The area is not secure yet.” Detective Ramirez grabbed her arms and forced her to calm down.

“Please, Detective. I love him. He asked me to marry him a few days ago. If he dies ….” Sobs broke off her plea.

Detective Ramirez softened. “Okay. We’ll start driving, but I’m not letting you near there until it’s safe.”

“Thank you.” She gave him a quick hug then ran for the door, desperate to reach the man she loved.

The area surrounding the mission looked like a war zone. Her stomach lurched at the blood on the ground and on the uniforms of injured men. So much blood. And where was Manuel?

Several bulging body bags lay in a neat line. Isabel averted her eyes, refusing to believe the worst. On the far side of the grounds, medical personnel bent over a victim, working at a frantic pace. Isabel recognized the man’s clothes and inched closer, fearing what she might see.

One of the paramedics stepped to the side, and Isabel glimpsed the fresh bloodstains on Manuel’s shirt. The gunshot wound in his side looked bad. She bit her lip and tried to remain strong. “What happened?”