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Randall gnawed the inside of his cheek, apparently annoyed by her confusion. He decided to humor her. “I’ve had three years to ruminate on why my death was staged. The savagery of it was to demonstrate how much Montesangre resented the United States’ intervention into its internal affairs.”
“Why didn’t they kill you for real?” Key asked.
“I assume they wanted to keep me as a trump card. Had the U.S. decided to send troops into Montesangre, as they did into Panama, they could have used me as a hostage.”
“So why were you released now?”
“That’s simple, Lara. They’re starving. Montesangre relies entirely on imports for virtually everything. Under the embargo enforced by the United States, and adhered to by the nations who are either allied with or fearful of us, their resources were quickly exhausted. Frankly, I’m amazed that they’ve held out this long. They probably wouldn’t have if Pérez were still their leader. They would have relaxed their political position long before now without someone as ruthless as Emilio at the helm. He’s made himself into a demigod.”
“What are you, president of his fan club?” Key asked caustically.
“Certainly not,” Randall coldly countered. “He was my jailer for three years. However, I’ve witnessed firsthand the suffering of the Montesangrens. I have tremendous sympathy for them and wish to help their plight. For all his ruthlessness, Sánchez is the best hope for pulling the country together, feeding the hungry, ending the chaos, and establishing some semblance of order. And, putting personal considerations aside, I must admire his tenacity.
“He’s inordinately determined and patient. Using your venture to release me was a brilliant stroke of ingenuity. He knew the human-interest value of this story, knew it would gain the attention of the American people. It’s his invitation to the United States to reopen diplomatic dialogue.”
“That’s the message he gave me to deliver. Why use his ace in the hole?”
Randall smiled as though amused by Key’s näiveté. “He knew I would have more credibility in Washington than a cowboy.”
“I’m not a cowboy.”
“Of course you are.” His eyes slid over Key’s jeans and boots, making plain his low opinion of them. “The only difference is that you ride airplanes instead of horses. Otherwise, you’re a range bum. Even your brother thought so.”
Key lunged for him, but Lara stepped between them. Putting her back to Key, she angrily faced Randall. “Clark thought no such thing! He loved Key very much.”
Randall smiled and said softly, “I bow to your superior knowledge of whom and what Clark loved.” He extended his hand. “We really must go, darling. Ready?”
Disregarding his proffered hand, she moved stiffly toward the door. Sensing that Key wasn’t following, she turned to him. “Coming?”
“No.”
She panicked. The only thing that would hold her together during this press conference was knowing that Key was beside her. He couldn’t lend her physical support, of course, but she’d relied on his strong presence to bolster her.
Gauging by the resolve in his expression, she knew arguing would be futile, but still she had to try. “You’re expected.”
“They’ll just have to be disappointed. The newspapers are hinting that I took you to Montesangre to rescue him.” He hitched his head toward Randall. “That’s not why I went, and I’m not going to pretend that it was.”
“They’ll think you’re only being coy, Mr. Tackett.”
Key glared at her husband. “I can’t control what they think. The only thing I have any real control over is myself, and I’m not going to be carrion for a flock of vultures with cameras. If you want a quote, write that one down.” Looking at Lara again, he said, “You don’t have to go either. No one can force you.”
She fought the magnetic pull that would have drawn her to him. There were so many things to say, so many explanations to make, but in order not to cause more damage than had already been done, she had to remain silent.
Naturally she was glad that Randall hadn’t died a brutal death. She celebrated his release from a long and hellish captivity. From a very selfish viewpoint, however, his deliverance couldn’t have come at a worse time. Randall had been liberated, but her imprisonment was just beginning.
Tears filled her eyes. One rolled down her cheek. Seeing it, Key started to say something, but obviously thought better of it. They gazed at each other in mute misery.
“Well, well,” Randall said around a dry little cough. Not knowing that he was echoing Lara’s thoughts, he said, “It appears that the husband’s resurrection from the dead has come at an inopportune time.”
She quickly turned away from Key. “As you said, Randall, we’re going to be late. Let’s go.”
He held up his hand to forestall her. “They’ll wait. This, on the other hand, demands immediate attention.”
“There is no ‘this.’ ”
“You always were a terrible liar, Lara.” He chuckled. “Out of deference to the shock you’ve sustained, I haven’t imposed my marital rights these past few nights. It’s a good thing I didn’t. Undoubtedly I would have found your bedroom door locked.”
She gave him a fulminating look but said nothing.
