“Do you know this highway?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I haven’t been here long enough to know any of them.”

“Then you’re in for a treat. This isn’t like anything you’ve seen in the States.”

Before long, he understood what she meant. It was Saturday evening, and the route was packed-mainly buses filled to the top with people and animals, but a few cars and motorbikes puttered along, too. The shoulders of the roadway told the real story, though. Every hundred yards or so, there were animals hobbled and staked out, mainly cattle, but some goats, as well. Fences were too expensive, Emma explained, so the farmers kept their livestock where everyone could see. This marked their property lines and kept the well-tended animals in hand.

The huts on the side of the road didn’t share the cattle’s apparent prosperity. Made of mud bricks and thatched roofs, most of the houses had no electricity or running water, and there were very few vehicles in sight. One or two had carts tied up in front, but for those at the very bottom, even a cart was unaffordable. Raul had to stop the SUV at one point to allow a man, pulling a pig on a rope, to trudge across the road.

The farther out of town they drove, the less populated the area became. Bamboo plants began to replace the simple dwellings, and everywhere he looked, Raul saw green, in particular orange and lemon trees, their fruit-laden limbs bent to the ground. Even the air had a junglelike smell. They were going up, he realized, gaining elevation as they left the valley behind.

“It’s a beautiful country, isn’t it?”

Emma’s voice sounded almost wistful. He glanced at her. “It is nice,” he agreed, “but not the kind of place I would expect to meet someone like you.”

“Why not?” Her voice held surprise.

“For one thing, you’re too smart,” he said bluntly, “and for another thing, you’re too ambitious.”

“How do you know I’m either of those things?”

“Easy. You wouldn’t be at the level you are in the bank if you weren’t ambitious, and if you weren’t smart…you wouldn’t be that ambitious.”

He continued speaking when she didn’t seem to know how to reply. “So explain how you got here,” he said, softening his voice. “There must be a story there, right?”

She stiffened visibly, her fingers tightening on the armrest. “You really don’t want to hear it,” she answered.

“It doesn’t take much to entertain me. Go ahead.”

She sat quietly for a few minutes and he wondered how much she would tell him. “I came here from New Orleans,” she said finally, “after a nasty divorce.”

“It must have been pretty bad to make you come this far.”

“It was.”

He waited for more, but none came. He decided to push her. “Do you have any kids?”

“No,” she lied, looking out the window away from him. “No children.”

Her deception surprised him, even though he should have expected it. “Just as well,” he said lightly. “Less to worry about, right?”

She turned to face him. Her skin glowed in the filtered light of the jungle around them. “So you have no children?”

He shook his head, putting aside the dreams he’d had before as if they’d meant nothing. “No. No kids, no ex-wife, no ex-anything. I’m free as they come.”

“You sound as if you like it that way.”

He slowed to avoid a goat crossing the road.

“It’s all I’ve ever known. I guess I must.”

They said nothing more until he saw the club’s sign ahead. Slowing the truck, he pulled into the drive and eased over a grassy area that served as a parking lot. Expensive vehicles filled the space, all of them new and shiny. In a country where few could afford their own transportation, the excess stood out.

Automatically Raul began to search the grounds with his eyes, even before he and Emma reached the club’s door. He saw no sign of Kelman, but there was plenty else to see. Under the trees, to the right of the doorway, was a huge cage, at least twenty feet high and fifty feet long. All Raul could see in it were blurs of frantic movement. Emma explained as she saw his puzzlement.

“That’s where the monkeys live. The owner of the club loves animals. Everywhere you go, you’ll see something, so watch out.” She raised her eyebrows in a mock warning and smiled. “Especially for the parrots. They like to swoop in and take a bite off your plate when you aren’t looking.”

Again he had the thought that she looked different when she smiled. Younger, more carefree. The contrast of this to her eyes, where a deep sadness stayed, made her even more intriguing.

Raul shut down the part of his brain that responded to her pull. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll be careful.”

They entered the club under a walkway of thatched material, the heavy vegetation close and humid. From the fronds of the nearby palms to the brilliant plumage of the raucous parrots, the jungle seemed to close around them. Raul almost expected to see a wildcat or an anaconda as they walked into the main area of the club. A huge open room, the place was packed with expensively dressed men and women. They were all holding drinks and talking. Looking over the crowd, Raul decided his expectations had indeed been met. They wore the same predatory look as the jungle animals. Emma waded into the crowd with determination, and Raul followed.

They’d been there an hour when Raul saw him.

With a sense of déjà vu, he watched as Kelman worked the room on the opposite side. Just as he had that first night at the Taminaca Bar, he was talking to everyone and acting friendly, but the man’s eyes searched the crowd continually. Raul followed his gaze until it stopped. Once again, it landed on Emma. They’d made the circuit of the room together, Emma introducing him to everyone. When she’d stopped to talk business with someone, he’d stepped away to give them some privacy, wandering to the other side of the crush. Now, as he looked on, she walked through a set of French doors to a terrace. Raul felt a flare of satisfaction, but it was followed by hesitation. Everything was falling into place exactly as he’d imagined, except for one troublesome exception.

He hadn’t counted on liking Emma Toussaint.


AROUND THE CORNER from the French doors, Emma walked to the nearest planter and dumped her glass of wine into it. She set the flute on the railing that edged the area, then turned around quickly, her dress brushing the yellow hibiscus blossoms.

She needed to go back inside and work the crowd, but the fresh air felt wonderful and she paused to breath it in. The crush of the crowd had been getting to her, or maybe, she thought belatedly, it wasn’t the crowd, but someone in particular. Raul.

His questions in the car had not been unexpected, but the interest with which he’d asked them had been. Despite all she’d heard and suspected, Raul Santos appeared to be a thoughtful person. There was a patina of something hard and impenetrable on the surface, but underneath, she sensed a man who truly cared, a man who was actually interested in her as an individual. At least, his questions had reflected that.

They’d also delivered a fresh level of pain, coming on the heels of Todd’s announcement. Most of the time she simply avoided the answer, but with Raul, she’d flat-out lied, told him she didn’t even have children. She didn’t want him getting any closer to her, and in her mind, anyone who knew her past knew her. At least she’d learned something about him in return. He didn’t like children, and he didn’t like entanglements.

Somewhat handy, she guessed, if you tended to disappear for five years at a time. The thought reminded her of Leon’s wild guess that Raul had been in prison. He might be right, but somehow she couldn’t reconcile that idea with the man she was getting to know. Did felons give money to beggars and donate large sums to hospitals? Reina had told her about Raul’s check to the Sisters. Emma looked out over the valley and shook her head. The contrast intrigued her, despite herself.

She started back inside, but as she neared the corner, a loud voice off to one side halted her progress. She told herself it was none of her business and continued on, then she recognized the cool timbre of Raul’s voice as he responded to the other person. She tried to distinguish the words, but the mountain breeze snatched them away.

Her curiosity getting the better of her, Emma edged forward. All at once, she realized she didn’t need to get any closer. She knew exactly who Raul was speaking to; the unmistakable pungency of cigar smoke drifted to her in a haze of blue.

Following the smoke came William Kelman’s voice. It broke the night’s quietness with undisguised anger. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t-”

“I’m telling you you’re wrong, my friend.” In complete contrast to Kelman’s agitation, Raul chuckled. To Emma, the deep sound came across as something other than amusement.

“I’m here for the same reasons you are,” Raul went on. “To make my fortune. Nothing more. I had no idea you were here. Why would you think otherwise?”

Her surprise was quickly overtaken by confusion. They obviously knew each other, yet Kelman had asked her about Raul when they’d been having dinner. Still hidden, she moved a step closer.

“You’re saying your being here is purely coincidental?” Kelman’s voice remained uptight, angry.

“What else could it be?”

“You know exactly what else it could be, Santos. You followed me. You’re on some damned revenge kick, aren’t you?”

“Revenge kick?” Raul stopped, the puzzlement in his voice clearing as he spoke again. “Do you mean Denise? That’s over and done with, Kelman. Besides, why would I want revenge? As I remember it, the woman left you for me. Isn’t that what happened?”

Silence, tenser than the words they’d just exchanged, filled the sudden void, and Emma half expected to hear the sound of a fist against a jaw. Her mouth went dry, her throat closing. It seemed preposterous that the two men would travel so far to fight over a woman, but stranger things had happened.