Take the Money: Romantic Suspense in Costa Rica (20 page)

After a dinner of chicken and rice and plantains, Bud decided on creamy flan for dessert. “Shouldn’t do this,” he laughed.  “Too many calories, bad for the old paunch.” He rubbed his hand across his belly.  “Maybe you can recommend a diet for me, Doctor.  How does everyone here stay so slim?”

Enrique’s smile faded.  “People work very hard, long hours.  Food is not so cheap for us.”

Even though the restaurant was dark, Julie could see color flare in Bud’s cheeks. “I’m quite aware of the problems in this country,” he said.  Enrique lifted an eyebrow, obviously surprised by Bud’s unexpected show of temper.

The tense moment was relieved when two men with guitars strolled to their table and began serenading them with “
Soy Tico
.” Julie sipped coffee liqueur, the events of the day finally taking their toll as she closed her tired eyes against the swimming in her head.  Enrique intertwined his fingers with hers on top of the table, making no effort to hide his feelings. Bud pretended not to notice, seemingly absorbed in the music and mellowed out with the rich liqueur.

Later, Julie would remember very little about the rest of the evening except Enrique coming to her room. She had thought nothing could surpass the joy of the first night they met, but now that they were aware of each other’s desires, they made love slowly, stroking and kissing all the sensitive places they remembered, building up to an intensity that left both of them gasping with pleasure. As Enrique said, they did a smooth tango together.

Julie awakened to the singing of birds as a shaft of sunlight began to cut across the white walls in her bedroom. She yawned and stretched, her senses still tingling with the memory of last night. Enrique had left at dawn. She showered, dressed in one of her new outfits, and went into the front room where the owner was making coffee and preparing plates of papaya and pineapple. Bud was waiting to join her for a quick breakfast before they left to see Oscar.

Bud didn’t seem surprised at the poverty in the small hovel where Rosita was caring for her baby.  At first, the girl was stiff and hostile, her face sullen and drawn, full lips pouting.  It was hard to believe the child in her arms was her own, not a brother.  But her face broke into a smile when she saw the toys, diapers, blankets and clothing Julie had brought not just for the baby, but the rest of the family.  All of the children tried on various shoes until they found pairs that fit, their dark eyes lighting up and cheeks glowing with pleasure at such unexpected riches.

“May I hold the baby?” Julie asked, and Rosita proudly put Oscar in her arms.  He was so tiny that Julie felt her heart would break at the thought of what meager hope for happiness and success life held for him.  Would he, too, marry young, have several children before he was twenty, and spend his life working from dawn till dusk?  Would his blonde hair and German features make him an outcast, or would he end up like Bud, with a step in two worlds, not feeling at home anywhere?

“You didn’t tell me the kid was a blond.”  Bud held out a finger for the baby to grasp.  “The father live around here?”

“The father’s some pig of a German who comes here to molest little children.” Julie said. “But of course, that probably doesn’t strike you as nearly as heinous a crime as some poor Nicaraguan sneaking cocaine across the border so he can keep his family from starving.”

Bud said, “I don’t approve of child prostitution any more than you do, but it’s an internal problem.  Not the kind of thing I have any business getting involved with, and you shouldn’t either.  There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“If I could help Rosita, keep her from going back out on the streets, that would be more important to me than anything I’ve ever done in my life,” Julie insisted.

Bud lowered his head, his eyes inches from Julie’s.  “Where did you get the money for all this stuff?  For your trip here?  To rent a car? To stay at the Cariari?” 

Julie ran her hand across the fine down of hair on the baby's small head.  “I have some savings,” she said.   It was an honest answer.  She did have a savings account, right now

“I might as well tell you, I don’t believe you.”

“So you think I’m a thief?”

Bud opened his mouth to speak, but baby Oscar let out a long anguished cry, his tiny fists clenched against his beet-red face.  Julie jumped up and handed the baby to Rosita, who calmly accepted him back and gently rocked him until his eyes fluttered and his head went slack against her shoulder.

Bud’s eyes went from the baby to Rosita, then to the children busily trying on their new clothes and attempting to tie the strings on their tennis shoes. Abruptly, he turned to leave. “Time to go,” he said over his shoulder. “We have to get the doctor to El Salvador.”

* * *

Julie drove the jeep to the back door of the clinic while Enrique saw a few last-minute patients.  Bud had gone into the quiet mode and sat stone-faced in the front seat while she opened the hatch back and pulled out the rest of the boxes she’d brought for others in the village. She supposed he’d decided not to be part of her operation--his way of expressing disapproval.  That was all right with her, she’d gotten the stuff this far, she could get it in the back door without his help. But why did her nose have to itch, just when her arms were loaded?  She sneezed, and the top box tumbled to the ground, its contents spilling into the dust.  “Oh, shit.” she said through clenched teeth. 

“Temper, temper.” Bud leaned out the window, craning his neck to see the cause of her exasperation.  His shoulders shook with amusement.

Julie turned her back and began picking up the clothes, hating it that he’d seen her lose her cool.

“Oh, all right.”  Bud got out and helped gather up her precious cargo, shaking dirt from a pink cotton baby dress.  Julie felt a small surge of glee.  Like it or not, he was in on it now.  Whatever
it
was.

“Would you like to drive?” she asked Bud “Since you know the area better, it might help avoid problems.”

“Sure,” He accepted the keys and started the motor while Julie and Enrique climbed in beside him. 

The hot sun created a sauna-like atmosphere in the car; beads of perspiration glistened above Bud’s upper lip. “You want cold air?” he asked, reaching for the dashboard.

“No,” Enrique came back quickly.  “It’s a waste. Fresh air will be fine.”

“That’s right, we have to save Julie’s gas money,” Bud snapped.

Enrique caught the nuance of disapproval in Bud’s voice and gave Julie a look.  There was an aura of goodness about him that was almost palpable.  What would he think of her wasted, self-indulgent life or the source of the money that had bought the presents?

To her relief, Bud pushed his foot harder against the accelerator without further comment. He forged intrepidly ahead, apparently unconcerned by the lack of guard rails around precipitous mountain drop-offs.   In what seemed like a deliberate attempt to jostle his passengers, he sped across deep ruts in the narrow roads, stopping only when cattle blocked their path or they came face-to-face with some reckless driver.  Julie was thrown against Enrique repeatedly, her bare legs in shorts resting comfortably against the rough material of his trousers. “You’re tired,” he said. “Rest your head on my shoulder.”

  Bud turned on the radio, filling the car with blasts of American music from the fifties.  Conversation was impossible as they sped down through the city of Alejuela, then back to the airport.

Julie’s head was filled with a patchwork of vivid images. It seemed hard to believe that she’d only been here a couple of weeks; that her life had undergone such dramatic change.  What had seemed foreign--the mountains, the great flowering trees against the brilliant blue sky, the hectic traffic--all seemed natural and normal.  The language grew more familiar, the people more beautiful. It was like no place she’d ever known, yet she felt completely at home.

After they worked their way through the snarl of cars leading to the airport entry, Bud pulled up and hit the brakes.  “Well,” he said, “here we are.”

Julie looked at Enrique, then at Bud “You’re not just dumping him off?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want us to go inside and wait with Enrique until his plane leaves.”

“Where would you suggest I park?” Bud waved his hand at the congestion of cars and taxis.

“Right beyond there.” Enrique pointed to a large parking lot. “But it’s not necessary, you’ve done enough.   It could be a long wait.”

Horns honked behind them. “Oh, what the hell.” Bud’s voice rose in exasperation. “Jump out now.  I’ll park and find you inside.”

Julie waited at the ticket counter while Enrique bought his ticket, and they learned he had only half an hour to wait.  Several flights to San Salvador had been added because of the relief effort.  They sat down in the waiting area, where Enrique ran into friends who were also going to the disaster area.  They had just gotten up for the first boarding call when Bud came storming in alone, his smooth forehead bunched into a frown.

“What is it?” Enrique asked when they saw him coming.  “He seems angry with you.  What is it between the two of you?”

“It’s not what you think,” Julie said.  “We aren’t lovers or even close friends.  I’ve just met him recently.”

Enrique rested his hand against Julie’s cheek, the warmth of his fingers spreading like a flame through her body as he murmured:   “There are some things I don’t understand, but I want to know you better.  Will you stay in Costa Rica or will you return home soon?”

“There are things I need to explain,” Julie said.  “When will you come back?”

“I’m not sure.  Where will you be?  Can you give me an address or a phone number?”

“If you want to find me,” Julie said.  “There’s one person who’ll know where I am.  Her name's Nellie, and she runs the Memphis South.  It’s near the Holiday Inn.  That’s all I can tell you right now.”

“Then I will see you again?”  He tilted her chin, the tenderness of his smile flowing into her.

“You will see me again.” Julie opened her mouth and tasted his lips on hers while he held her so tight she could scarcely breathe. They kissed long and hard, blissfully unaware of the fact that they were standing in a public place.  Twice the flight attendant announced it was time to board, but they clung to each other until the jet way door was ready to close. 

Julie stood at the window watching Enrique’s plane taxi down the runway, pick up power, lift off the ground, and climb toward the sun.  She felt empty and lost, sick with the fear that she would never see him again.

* * *

Bud did not speak until the plane disappeared into a puff of white clouds. “Are you ready to go?”  His words were clipped.

“I suppose I am.” Julie wiped tears from her cheeks and turned away from the window.  Every fiber in her body longed to be going to San Salvador, but she hadn’t had the nerve to ask.  She wasn’t trained to do anything helpful for disaster victims.

Bud loped along beside her. “What I’d like to know,” he said, “is exactly what you think you’re doing?”

Julie’s mind went blank. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean.  You’re leading that guy on a merry chase.  He’s lonely, overworked, stuck up in the boonies.  You sashay in like lady bountiful from the US to sweep him off his feet.  He thinks you’re some kind of goddess. Little does he know…”

“Oh, pulhleez.  A goddess in sandals and cutoffs?”

“Stop it,” Bud said. “You know you’re beautiful.  And now you’re looking for a little foreign experience.”

“That’s really what you think?” 

“You told me you went to Princeton.  That’s a classy school.”

“You’re saying I’m over-privileged?”

“Well, aren’t you?”

Julie stopped walking and sneezed at the exotic fragrances coming from a duty-free perfumery.  She found a Kleenex in her pocket and said, “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done, saving my life and all.  I’m not sure why you did it, but I’m glad you did.  But if anyone’s on a wild goose chase, it’s you.  You think I’m part of a drug smuggling ring, when all I’m doing is trying to figure out how to avoid getting killed because I witnessed a murder.”

“How long do you plan to keep running?  The thing has to be brought to a head.”

“What I’m hoping,” Julie said, making things up as she went along, “is that Cody will give up and go back to Indiana.  He can’t stay here forever, and now he knows someone is protecting me.”

“You mean you wouldn’t testify about what he did to your friend?  That he committed a murder?”

Julie said, “I do want him to pay for what he did.  One of these days, he’ll be caught and locked up; it will be safe for me to go home then.”

“Supposing I said I’d help.  Try to arrange some protection?”

Was Bud trying to set her up?  Right now, he didn’t have a lot to go on. All he knew was that she’d spent a few thousand dollars on transportation and supplies for the people of Santa Clara.  She’d be a fool to take him into her confidence or trust him with any more information.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “I can’t go now, before I see Enrique again.”

“You really think a lot of that guy, don’t you?

“Don’t you?”