Third Half (17 page)

             
The bearded man knew something about her brother.  Besides
that, he was the only person who knew she didn't murder Ralph
Devereaux, because he had to be the murderer.

             
For that very reason she knew she couldn't count on him for
help.  More likely, he only wanted to meet her after the show with the
hope he could eliminate her as a witness.  Dressed as Mary Catherine,
she could follow him without his knowing who she really was.

I

             
What the hell is Jack's sister doing down here? 
The bearded
man wondered, having to force his attention back to the woman seated
beside him.

             
"I do not like this change in plans." The auburn-haired
woman's were like the bite of a dog that meant business.  "And I
certainly do not trust you, Senor Marshal."

             
"Like I said, you either arrange for your boss man to meet with
me, or I walk out that door and you'll have to get someone else to
finish your job."

             
"And what about the missing items?"

             
"We all seem to be missing something," the man in the leather
jacket said coolly.  "Maybe we can help each other."

             
"I will think about it, Senor," the beautiful Juanita said through
clenched lips.  "But I do not know if doing any more business with
you is a wise choice."

             
"Probably much wiser than the alternative."

             
Juanita's dark eyes flashed angrily as she got up from the table. 
"We will be in touch."  Without another word she turned walked away
the crowd parting like the Red Sea as she made her way to the door.

             
Todd Marshal turned to look at the empty stage.  He had
recognized the singer Kitty Katt as the same woman who had been in Devereauex's office Saturday.  And he had recognized that woman as
Jack's sister, Liane.

             
South America was as good a place to hide from a murder rap
as any.  He smiled, feeling no guilt at knowing she was innocent of
the crime, but still letting her take the blame.  It was better than
having her nosing around, getting in his way.

             
Which brought him back to why she had chosen Lima, Peru. 
Perhaps it wasn't a coincidence that she chose here to hide.  If that was
the case, he'd just have to find a way to convince her to leave before
she got in his way and ruined everything.

             
Enough has gone wrong already. 
She had gotten his message. 
Now he only hoped she would meet him outside after her last show. 
And that should begin very soon.

I

             
From across the street Liane watched the auburn-haired
woman leaving the
Conquistador
.  She walked slowly down the street
before stopping to talk to someone in a parked car.  Then she got into
another car and drove away.

             
A few moments later the bearded man came out of the club
and stood on the sidewalk a long time.  Waiting for her, she supposed. 
Well, you're in for a surprise
.  She stepped further back into the
shadows and watched as two men got out of the parked car and
approached the man in the leather jacket.

             
As if watching a scene from a movie, she saw the two men
force the bearded one into their car.  The same car the auburn-haired
woman had paused by only moments before.

             
Liane knew she'd have to follow, or lose all chance of finding
out anything about Jack.

             
Stepping toward the curb, she spotted a taxi on the corner. 
She rushed toward it and quickly got inside.  "Do you speak English?"

             
"Yes, I speak some English."  The man turned, showing
obvious surprise at finding a nun in his cab at this late hour.

             
"Follow that car!"  she ordered.

             
The cabby's mouth dropped open with surprise as he nodded,
turning to do as she instructed.

             
"It's very important," she added as he started the motor.

             
It seemed like they followed the other car for a long time
before it stopped outside an old abandoned building on the outskirts
of the city.  The area was secluded and dimly lit. 

             
"Just like out of a mystery movie,"  she mumbled as she
reached for the door handle.

             
"Sister, are you going inside there?"  The driver turned with
undisguised concern, his dark complexion seeming to turn ashen in
the dim light.  "I do not think it is the kind of place . . ."

             
"Please don't worry," she assured him, trying to show bravado
she didn't feel.  "But just in case, will you wait right here?"

             
"Whatever you want, Sister," the man replied, still wearing a
worried expression as he made the sign of the cross on his chest.

             
Carefully crossing the street, Liane went to a dirty, cracked
window at the side of the building where she had a fairly good view of
the three men.  It was irritating to watch and not be able to hear what
they were saying, but by their actions, she was certain the two other
men were angry with the bearded one.

             
Further down the alley she saw another window and quickly
went to that one.  She now had an even better vantage point of what
was happening, and through a broken pane of glass, she also could
hear what the men were saying.

             
"We know you are Jackson's partner," one of the men, a heavy
barrel-chested man, said in heavily accented English.  "Now, tell us
where you hid everything."

             
"I told you, I don't know where the stuff is." The bearded man
said as he calmly lit a cigarette, then tossed the match toward the first
man with unconcern.  "Jackson disappeared." 

             
"Don't push your luck,"  Liane whispered as she saw the
growing anger in the expressions of the other two men.

             
"Mr.  Marshal, we have orders to find out.  If you insist in
being difficult, we will have to do it the hard way."  The second man,
shorter and thinner, lifted a club from a nearby table.

             
"Who gave those orders?" the man named Marshal asked
calmly.  "Maybe he could tell me where my partner is.  Then we'll be
glad to fulfill our agreement."

             
"You are a wise guy!" The first man shouted as he hit the
bearded man in the stomach with the end of the club.  "I don't like
wise guys.  Especially Americans who think they can come down here
and make fools of us."

             
"You don't really think you need us to help you do that," 
groaned the American, now hunched over, holding his stomach.

             
Liane rolled her eyes, wondering how he could be so brazen
considering that had obviously been only a sampling of the beating he
was about to receive.  She watched as the barrel-chested man punched
him in the face. 

             
Still the man named Marshal did not give them any
information. 

             
Again, the smaller man used the club hitting him repeatedly.

             
Liane forced herself to watch, wincing as though they had hit
her.

             
Marshal was on the ground, nearly in a fetal position, blood
coming from his mouth as he looked up at his assailants with open
hostility.  Liane had no doubt he'd give them some of the same if he
had the advantage.

             
"Now tell us what we want to know!  We know you and
Jackson planned this together."  They picked Marshal up from the
floor and put him on his feet again.

             
Liane knew she had to help the man.  If what the men were
saying was true, this man named Marshal might be able to tell her
where she'd find her brother.  He also could explain what was going
on.  She knew whatever it was, it had to be serious.  Serious enough to
kill for. 

             
Her eyes swiftly scanned the surroundings of the vacant
building, spotting a back door.  She prayed it could be opened. 
Hesitating only a moment, she shivered, remembering the man she
was about to help was a murderer . . . and she was being blamed for
the murder he committed.

             
Having formed a plan, she quickly ran to the taxi and told the
driver what she wanted him to do, then waited until she saw him drive
around the building toward the back doorway.  As his taillights
disappeared, she knocked on the front door of the building.

             
"Excuse me," she said boldly, stepping inside the huge room,
not waiting for an invitation.  Glancing around the room, she frowned. 
"Oh no, this isn't the place, is it?  I keep getting lost.  Father John is
going to be very angry this time."  She looked straight at the bearded
man.

             
"She saw his brown eyes widen when she said Father John,
and knew he understood.  "I sometimes think I'd get lost going out the
back door."

             
"Sister, where are you going?" The barrel-chested man who
opened the door said from beside her.  "Do you have an address?"

             
"I have it written down someplace," she said turning. 
"Wouldn't you know I left it in the taxi outside the door."  Without
another word, she went back outside.

             
"What taxi?  She heard the man saying from behind her.

             
"It was here a moment ago,"  she replied innocently, then
hearing shouts from inside the building she knew Mr. Marshal had
indeed understood and was making his escape.

             
"Stop her!"  The man inside yelled, as he rushed toward the
doorway.

             
Liane didn't wait to find out if her plan had worked.  She soon
realized that in her haste she had forgotten one thing
–
what would
happen to her when the men realized she had tricked them?

             
She heard footsteps behind her, and the sound of an engine
starting.  She lifted her skirts so she could run faster.  All would be
lost if she couldn't find a way to get away.  She had no doubt these
men meant business and she suspected that being a nun wouldn't save
her.

             
Nearly out of breath she turned a corner, hoping to find
someplace to hide, but before she had time to look, she heard the
screech of brakes and felt strong arms grasp her arm, pulling her
inside a car.  The door slammed and the car lurched forward again
jerking her hard against the back of the seat, then as it rounded the
next corner she felt herself pressed against a solid form.

             
A beard rubbed against Liane's cheek and immediately she
knew who it was.  "It's about time!" she snapped.  It was all she could
think of saying at that moment, as she squirmed, trying not to be so
close to this stranger.

             
She heard his sharp intake of breath as he winced when her
elbow bumped against his side.  Remembering his injuries she was
immediately concerned.  She looked out the back, and left out a long
sigh of relief.  There were no headlights behind them.