River of Secrets (3 page)

Anna’s eye’s brightened. “That’s true. I’ll ask him. Thanks for thinking of it.”

“Not a problem.”

Anna wiggled her eyebrows. “I have another reason for being here.
He
came looking for you.”

“Who?” Amy asked, tongue in cheek. She knew exactly who
he
was.

“You know who.”

“I’ll be sure to find him shortly,” she promised, turning away to hide the blush creeping up her neck. But still, tenderness filled Amy. Over the last few weeks, she’d come to care for the quiet, sometimes angry man—in spite of the fact that he drove her crazy with his stubborn independence.

“I told him you would be looking forward to having lunch with him.”

“Anna!” Amy was fiery red at this point. She tossed the towel at her friend, smacking her in the face with it. Then the two women burst out laughing. It felt good.
Thank you, Lord, for laughter and friends in unexpected places.

Juan gripped the twenty-pound weight in his left arm, the weaker of the two, and hefted. Sweat dripped, his elbow dug into the thigh muscle right above his knee and he groaned. But he curled his arm up for a final count of twenty-five. He huffed, letting his arm drop. The weight clanked to the mat.

“Good job, there.”

Juan looked up to see Lucas watching him with a concerned expression. “Hey,” he grunted.

“You’re pushing it a bit, aren’t you?” Lucas asked.

Juan sucked in a deep breath. “Yep. Have to.” In the weight room, off the now-empty gymnasium, he gave it his all, determined to regain his strength—again. The room had only been finished a week before the illness had started. The window stood open behind him, pulling out the smell of fresh wood and paint, replacing it with the muggy, humid air of the jungle. With his right hand, he massaged his quivering left bicep. “I can’t let a little virus set me back on all the progress I’ve made.”

“If you’re not careful, you’re going to pull or rupture something and undo all my hard work.” Lucas’s tone was dry, sarcastic.

Juan felt his laughter spurt in spite of himself. “
Your
hard work?”

Lucas strolled over to sit beside him on the bench. “Yeah, man. I didn’t save your hide just to let you kill yourself, you know.”

Juan felt the smile pulling the corner of his mouth. During the past year, the only thing that had kept him sane had been Lucas’s dry sense of humor and sarcastic wit. He grabbed a scratchy towel and dried his face. “You know, I’ve never asked, and you’ve never said, but why did you fight so hard to save me? Anna told me how you sacrificed, gave up sleep, sometimes food, to spend hours trying to wake me up. Doing what needed to be done with my joints and muscles, to keep them from atrophying.” Juan dropped the towel and looked his friend in the eye. “Why?”

Lucas shrugged, looked away. “Because.”

“Because?”

“You were fighting too hard to live. How could I let you die?”

Juan had a feeling there was more to the story. “You know, Lucas, you’re a real private person, and I respect that, but can’t you give me a little more?”

Lucas sighed. “Chalk it up to a personal tragedy I didn’t want to see happen again. My brother died in a fire—and I was too late to save him.”

“Is that why you’re so angry at God?”

“Partly.”

“Do you believe in Him?”

Pursing his lips, Lucas nodded. “Yeah, I believe in Him.”

That was all Juan was going to get from the man, he could tell. He changed the subject. “What do you think about the new nurse, Amy?”

Lucas cut his eyes to Juan, and Juan felt a flush start up his cheeks. To hide it, he leaned over to pick up the weight he’d just recently dropped. This time, he used his right hand.

“Why? You like her?”

Juan heard the smile in the doctor’s question and couldn’t help the snicker that escaped. “Do I
like
her?”

Lucas laughed. “I could set you up, you know.”

“I don’t want to be set up,” Juan protested. “I just wondered what you thought about her.”

“She’s pretty,” Lucas admitted.

“I can see that,” Juan muttered, easily picturing her straight, perfectly cut blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes. The dimples in each cheek made his insides curl every time she flashed him a genuine smile. “I mean, what do think of her? Her personality? Her character? Would she be interested in someone who’ll have…who can’t…” He trailed off, embarrassed to express his thoughts even to his best friend.

Lucas became serious. “Someone who’ll have scars the rest of his life and can’t remember who he is?” Lucas finished the sentence for him.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, focusing on curling the weight so he didn’t have to look at Lucas.

“Well, I’ve only been around her for a few weeks, but I would say that she’s the real deal. She’s genuine, compassionate, great with kids…and she’s hurting—maybe, healing. Sometimes her eyes are sad. But, she doesn’t let it interfere with what she wants to get accomplished.” Lucas punched him in the arm lightly. “I also think she’s probably as stubborn as you are. She doesn’t take no for an answer, or have you already noticed that?”

Juan snorted. “I’ve noticed.”

“I figured you had. I’m also pretty sure she’s a Christian.”

“Why do you say that?” Juan looked up, startled. His friend never discussed religion. Avoided the topic as if it would contaminate him to even enter a discussion about God. Of course, Juan wasn’t exactly sure what he, himself, thought about God and, not for the first time, wished he could remember. And yet he found himself praying more and more.

“She reads her Bible every morning out on the dock.” The main orphanage building sat back away from one of the freshwater lakes scattered throughout the Amazon. Recently, a long dock had been added to allow swimming during the times it was safe and to provide easier river access. While Tefe was a small city with roads, water travel was still a necessity. Two new boats with outboard motors rocked gently, tied securely to the gleaming dock. Three canoes, the most common mode of travel, were banked on the shore.

Juan blinked. “She does?” He’d not known that. No wonder he couldn’t find her this morning. Not that he’d been specifically looking for her. Okay, yes, he had. He’d just refused to acknowledge his disappointment when she hadn’t come in to breakfast while he’d been there.

Whoosh.

Juan jumped as something flew past his cheek. “What…?” He turned swiftly, and when he did, it threw him off balance. He landed on his rear.

Another soft, almost soundless,
whoosh
hissed by him.

“Get down!” Lucas yelled.

Juan wanted to say, I
am
down, but instead rolled to his right.
Thwap!
Something hit the mat beside him.

“What is it?” he hollered.

“Someone’s shooting darts through the window,” Lucas gasped as he grabbed Juan’s arm. “Get your back against the wall. Don’t be a target.”

Juan panted, grunted, his muscles still quivering from his workout; his body still recovering from the virus. But he pushed himself against the wall and waited. He wanted to propel himself through the window and tackle the shooter. The urge was so strong, he shook with the effort to force himself still. But as he did, a flash of memory surfaced.

We’ve got a traitor. Get out, get out!

The explosion rocked him. Searing heat scorched the left side of his face. The child cried. They’d been betrayed, set up, sold out.

“Juan! Juan!”

Juan blinked, blinked again. Focused on Lucas. He was saying something, but Juan couldn’t grasp the words. “What?”

“It’s stopped. I’m going to try to find out who it was.”

“I’m coming with you.”

As they started for the door, Amy walked in.

“Amy!”

She jumped. “What? What’s wrong?”

Juan gripped her forearms. “Did you see anyone outside the window? Running from the gym?”

“No. Why?”

“Someone was using us for target practice. Thank goodness for lousy aim.” He looked at the two darts embedded in the wooden wall and the one in the mat on the floor.

Lucas said, “Come on, let’s take a look around.”

“I want to help. Which way should I go?” Amy asked.

Juan shook his head. “No way. This guy was trying to do some damage. I don’t want you wandering around alone looking for him. In fact, why don’t you head back to the main building and let Anna know what’s going on. Call the police and have them send someone over. We’ll look for our shooter.”

Amy bit her lip, hesitated. “Okay.” She turned and headed for the building.

Juan and Lucas split up, although Juan wondered what he’d do if he caught the guy. His overworked muscles told him he sure didn’t have the strength for a fight.

Amy ran to the main building, told Anna what had happened, then decided to go back to the gym to see for herself what was going on. Entering the gymnasium through the side door, she made her way down the main hall to the weight room. She looked inside—and stopped abruptly. “Jonathas, what are you doing in here?”

The teen looked up, startled. “I was looking for Juan. He said he was going to work out some, then come over and help with the new wing. When he didn’t show up, I came looking for him.” He gestured to the wall. “What happened here?”

Amy looked at the three holes—two in the wall and one in the mat. The darts were gone. She said, “Someone tried to use darts to shoot Lucas and Juan.” She blinked and asked Jonathas, “What happened to the darts? They were still there a few minutes ago.”

Jonathas shrugged. “I don’t know. I just got here and this is what I found when I walked in. Why would someone try to hurt either of them?”

“Good question,” Juan answered from behind. Amy spun around and came nose to chest with the man. She stepped back, flustered. Juan frowned down at her and said, “I thought you were going back to the main building.”

Why did she feel guilty? “I did, but then I decided to come here and just…see…whatever. I don’t know what I expected to find. Something.”

“Where are the darts?” Lucas asked, frowning.

Amy shrugged. “I have no idea. They were gone when I got here. Jonathas came looking for you and said they were gone when he got here, too.”

Lucas growled. “Should have collected and bagged those before going on our wild-goose chase. The guy probably watched us leave, then rounded the corner, came in here and pulled his evidence.” He raked a hand through his sandy blond hair. Dark eyes glittered with frustration under his brows.

Juan stomped over to the wall, studying the hole. “You think anything was on the tips of those darts?”

Lucas looked startled. “What? Like poison?”

“Yeah.”

Amy swallowed hard. Poison? And why did Juan all of a sudden look extremely familiar? Seeing just the right side of his face, in profile, without the scars, he reminded her of someone. The way he tilted his head, the quirk of his lips. She racked her brain but couldn’t pull a name from it.

Juan looked at Lucas. “You got a pocketknife on you?”

Lucas handed it over. “What are you doing?”

“Well, if there was poison on the tips of those things, some of the residue would be left in this wood.” He flicked the knife open. “Now, I just need a plastic Baggie.”

Amy bit back surprised laughter. Plastic Baggie? He’d sounded so…professional up to that point. She moved to the first-aid kit that hung on the wall.

“Here,” she said pulling out the Brazilian version of the Ziploc bag. “Your plastic Baggie.”

Juan smiled his thanks and his eyes glinted. He’d seen her humor and appreciated it.

With the knife, he scraped around the hole left by the dart and caught the shavings in the plastic bag. “Could I have two more?”

Amy shook off her thoughts; told herself it wasn’t important and complied. “What do you need two more for?”

Juan explained as he worked. “Well, there were three different darts. I want samples from the three different holes. I’m just curious. If there was something like poison on the tips, was it all the same or was there something different on each one—or something on one, but not the others?” He exchanged the second bag for the third. This time, he used the knife to cut a patch around the hole in the mat and then placed the entire specimen in the bag.

Once all three were filled, sealed and labeled, he looked at Lucas. “Will the police department be able to do a better job with this than they have with finding out who I am or who tried to kill me once before?”

He sounded bitter, and Amy’s heart ached for him. Lucas shrugged. “I don’t know. Leave me some of the shavings and I’ll look at them under a microscope. We’ll give the rest to the police and hope for the best. If they don’t come up with anything, I can have everything shipped to the States for examination. I have some friends on the police force in South Carolina.”

Amy got two more bags, and the men worked on preserving some of the samples. Jonathas watched the proceedings in silence. Finally, everything that could be done was done. Amy looked at Juan and asked, “How do you know so much about evidence collection? What are you? A forensics guy or something?”

THREE

H
ow do you know so much about evidence collection?

The question tormented him. How did he know what to do? The work felt natural, second nature, as if he’d done it before. He closed his eyes and searched his brain. Then he groaned with frustration.
Why
couldn’t he remember?

He’d had CAT scans, MRIs, everything. Lucas had donated both of the extremely expensive machines to the hospital—and used them on Juan. Nothing showed up as permanent damage. In fact, his last scan showed his brain had fully recovered from his head trauma.

And yet—he couldn’t remember.

God, are you there? I honestly believe I can say I believe in You. So, can you help me? Please?

He opened his eyes and looked at Amy, who stood waiting for an answer to her question. He wished he had one to give. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Amy’s eyes conveyed sympathy and she turned to Jonathas. “Well, guess that’s it for the excitement around here. Anyone ready for something to eat?”