Page 134 of Where There's Smoke


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“Cannot.”

“That’s not true. What do you know that you’re holding back?”

“Mrs. Porter, I implore you—”

“Tell me,” she insisted.

Father Geraldo drove down a dirt lane that ended in a remote clearing above the river. The river began as a clear, rushing stream in the mountains, but by the time it had snaked its way down through the jungle and cut a swathe through Ciudad Central, where it swept up garbage and pollutants, it emptied sludge into the ocean. He brought the jeep to a stop but kept the motor idling.

“Were you on duty at the hospital that day our car was ambushed?” Lara asked.

He tried to nod but couldn’t because of the revolver. “Sí,” he whispered in fear.

“Did you see my daughter?”

“Sí. She was critically wounded.”

Lara swallowed, remembering the amount of blood gushing from the wound on Ashley’s neck. The carotid artery had no doubt been severed. She closed her eyes in an attempt to stamp out that mental picture. Later she could grieve. Now, she didn’t have the luxury of time. “What happened to my daughter’s body?”

“Father,” Soto pleaded, rolling his eyes toward the priest, “I beg you to intercede. I have a family to protect. God knows my heart goes out to Mrs. Porter, but I am afraid of reprisals.”

“You damn sure should be.” Key spoke in a near growl. “El Corazón isn’t here, but I am. We haven’t come a thousand miles to fuck around with you. Tell her what she wants to know, or you’re no use to us. ¿Comprende? In other words, you’re dispensable.”

Lara didn’t approve of Key’s fear tactics. They had agreed that he would use them only when all else failed, or—and this was doubtful—when they became convinced that Soto was telling the truth and that he didn’t know anything about Ashley’s burial. She was reasonably sure he wouldn’t make good on his implied threats, but hopefully Soto would fall for them before she had an opportunity to put it to test.

“Padre?” Soto begged, his voice cracking as he glanced fearfully at the murky, polluted waters below. “¿Por favor?”

Father Geraldo crossed himself, bowed his head, and began to pray softly. He couldn’t have been more convincing.

“I’m tired of this shit.” Key jumped over the side of the jeep and motioned with his head for the doctor to alight.

“Cementerio del Sagrado Corazón,” he blurted.

“Sacred Heart. She’s buried there?” Lara asked.

“Sí.” The doctor expelled his breath and seemed to deflate like a balloon. “During those early days of fighting, they took most of the casualties there. Take me there, and I will show you.”

Father Geraldo stopped praying and put the jeep in reverse. Key climbed back in. He had a warning for the doctor: “You’d better not be bullshitting us.”

“No, señor. I swear it on the heads of my children.”

The cemetery was located on the other side of the city. It would have been a long drive under normal circumstances. The distance was increased by the circuitous route the priest took. He doubled back several times to make certain they weren’t being followed. To avoid roadblocks and military convoys, he zigzagged through seemingly abandoned neighborhoods where streetlights remained dark and only alley cats were brave enough to show themselves.

Lara’s nerves were jangling by the time they reached the cemetery gates. “It’s locked!”

“But it’s a low wall. Come on.” Key was the first one out of the jeep. He motioned Soto down. “Keep both hands on your head. If you lower them, I’ll shoot you.”

“You cannot shoot me or you will not know where to look for the girl’s grave.”

The bluff didn’t work on Key. He flashed a grin that showed up extraordinarily white against his black beard. “I didn’t say I’d kill you. I just said I’d shoot you. For instance in the hand. You wouldn’t be able to change a Band-Aid, much less do surgery.” He stopped smiling. “Now move.”

The four of them had no difficulty getting over the low stone wall. Soto indicated the direction in which they should go. They didn’t risk using a flashlight. There was no moon, so they had to pick their way carefully around tombstones and over uneven ground.

The cemetery was situated on a hillside and offered a commanding view of the city with the mountains rising behind it. It had not escaped the effects of war. The grounds were no longer maintained. Very few graves appeared to have been tended since the revolution began. It broke Lara’s heart to think of her daughter being buried in this desolate place that was overrun with weeds and inhabited by jungle reptiles that slithered unseen in the underbrush.

Ashley won’t be here for long, she vowed silently.

Indeed, Dr. Soto had reached a shelf of land that rimmed a wide depression. There he stopped. Moving slowly so he wouldn’t incite Key to make good his threat, he turned toward Lara. She was taken aback by the ghoulish appearance of his eyes until she realized that the wavering sheen in them was actually unshed tears.

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