Taking Chances (8 page)

Turning, he looked down over the hillside to where the village lay cradled in the bowl of the valley. It was several moments before he noticed the girl climbing the path towards him. Her thick dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders, her strong, athletic legs moved gracefully over the grassy ascent. She waved, and though she was still too distant for him to see her face, he could feel himself warming to the childlike brightness of her eyes and guileless beauty of her smile. Her name was Carlota: she was a whore’s daughter who had ridden with them from the nearby town of Popayán to this village where her grandmother lived. She looked fourteen, though insisted she was twenty.

‘I was looking for you,’ she said as she joined him. She was breathless from her walk; her clear olive skin was sheened in sweat. ‘They are saying in the bar that you
are
wanted in your country for more than a hundred crimes.’

Chambers crooked an eyebrow. ‘
Are
there that many?’ he said.

‘Oh yes,’ she assured him. ‘And I think you have committed them all. Morales, he says you did, and that no-one should mess with you, because you are a very wicked and dangerous man.’

Chambers pushed his hands in his pockets and started back down the hill. He liked the girl, enjoyed her prattle, and knew he should dissuade her from seeking him out.

‘Where is your wife?’ she asked, falling in beside him.

He threw her a sidelong glance, and carried on walking.

She skipped up over a rock, then came down to block his way. ‘I want to be your wife,’ she told him, her slanted green eyes shining with mischief. ‘I am a virgin. I could be your wife.’

Picking her up, he set her aside to clear his path, then laughed as she threw herself to the ground and tried to pull him down with her. ‘Morales says I must seduce you,’ she smiled up at him. ‘He says you are in need of a woman.’

‘And you are a girl,’ he said, pulling her back to her feet. ‘A child.’

‘A woman!’ she cried. ‘I am a woman. I can give you love, and I can make you special rate.’

They walked on in silence, until finally she said, ‘The men who were with you and Morales before we leave Popayán, they arrive just now.’

Chambers felt a rapid beat in his heart. ‘Did Morales send you to find me?’ he said.

‘He told me to find you, and love you, then bring you back to the house.’

Despite the sudden edge to his nerves there was a glint of humour in Chambers’s eyes. ‘Here,’ he said,
dragging
a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, ‘tell him you succeeded.’

She snatched the money, buried it inside her dress, and said, ‘It is too soon. He will know that there was no love, because we come back too soon.’

Ordinarily Chambers wouldn’t have cared what Morales thought, but the man had been on his case for days about a woman, and this could be an easy way of getting him off. Let him think that he had taken the girl, maybe then his celibacy would cease to be an issue. ‘Come here,’ he said to Carlota, and taking her hand he pulled her behind a boulder and pushed her down on the grass. ‘I want you to lie there and be quiet,’ he told her, sitting down facing her and resting his back against the rock. ‘I need to think, and I need you to tell Morales we made love.’

‘Then let’s make love,’ she said. ‘It will be easier that way.’

There was great irony in Chambers’s eyes as he surveyed her. Lying there like that, so fresh and inviting, she looked as desirable as any woman he’d known, and God knew he needed the release. But no matter how many times she had given herself before, sex with a minor was no more his scene than sex with a horse.

It wasn’t that he’d been celibate since Rachel died, far from it, it was just that being back in this country was reconnecting him to her in a way that made him want to exclude other women. Were he being honest, he’d have to admit, on an emotional level, it was pretty much that way wherever he was. It certainly wasn’t that he set out to hurt a woman, but after he’d slept with her he just didn’t want the additional involvement.

He thought about Michelle Rowe, the British actress who’d worked with him on bringing down the Brazilian businessman Pedro Pastillano. In the time they were together he had probably felt closer to her than he had to anyone since Rachel’s death, but, as beautiful as
Michelle
was, there had never been a question of anything more than friendship between them. He wondered where her most recent letter was. It seemed he’d mislaid it somewhere between Cartagena and here. It wasn’t important, he could always get her address from Michael – as he recalled, she was currently working in the Afghan refugee camps on the borders of Pakistan. He liked the suggestion she’d come up with in her letter, and wondered if she’d put it to Michael yet. Chances were Michael wouldn’t go for it, not now he had another woman in his life. On the other hand Chambers could make it a condition of his contract, when it finally got drawn up.

Héctor Escobar and Dario Galvis were drinking beer with Morales when Chambers returned to the house. Carlota left him at the door and gave a star performance of having just been laid. Morales looked pleased and handed Chambers a congratulatory beer.

‘We have news,’ he told Chambers, settling back in his chair. ‘Good news.’ He signalled Héctor to continue.

‘We’ve got another name,’ Héctor said, his permanent scowl allowing only a trace of satisfaction.

Chambers looked at him, his iron-grey eyes as sharp as flint. ‘How?’ he said.

Héctor shrugged. ‘Never dump on a woman and never trust one either.’

Morales said, ‘Galeano’s wife, the bitch my son was killed for, is getting even with the husband who just dumped her from a prison cell.’

‘He found himself a nice young boy to take her place,’ Dario sniggered.

Morales looked at him, then turned back to Chambers.

‘How do you know she’s telling the truth?’ Chambers said. ‘Who spoke to her?’

‘
El Patron
spoke to her,’ Héctor answered. ‘One of the names she gave him is Julio Zapata. Gustavo Zapata’s older brother. They are the sons of Galeano’s sister.’ He
paused
, then looked Chambers right in the eye. ‘The third name is Salvador Molina,’ he said.

Chambers’s insides turned to ice.

Morales and the others waited. In the end Morales spoke again. ‘It is the same Salvador Molina as Rachel named in her reports, the one who fucks with kids.’

Inside Chambers was shaking. Of course, he’d always suspected Molina, but there had never been any proof. There was probably none now, but he didn’t need it. All he needed was a moment to make himself accept finally that no matter what he had done back then, Molina would have killed her anyway. It still didn’t let him off the hook, but it sure as hell sorted out any lingering problem he might have had about taking another man’s life.

‘How do you know?’ he said.

‘
El Patron
’s men did the kidnap,’ Morales answered. ‘After that, they handed over to Molina and the Zapatas.’

It figured. ‘So what now?’ he said.

‘Now, you decide,’ Morales answered. ‘You want these scumsuckers dead, you give the word. You want to do it yourself, we will arrange it. Or maybe, now you have the names, you want to leave and go back to your own country.’

Chambers looked at the three men and saw their contempt for the third choice, and for any man who would take it. He thought of Rachel and what it must have been like for her in those final moments when the gun was pressed to her head. He felt her terror, her desperation, her hopelessness …

There had never been any choice.

‘You know, you didn’t have to come,’ Michael said. ‘We’d have understood if you had other things to do.’

‘What makes you think I had other things to do?’ Ellen countered as they watched Robbie and his two friends
leaping
in and out of the water jets at Universal Studios’ Citywalk.

‘We’ve always got other things to do,’ Michael replied, glancing over his shoulder as someone in the crowd nudged past him.

Ellen sighed, then suddenly she was dodging behind Michael and shrieking as Robbie made a dive towards her in his soaking wet clothes. ‘Robbie! No!’ she cried. ‘Robbie!
Michael stop him
!’

But it was too late as, much to the enjoyment of the crowd, Robbie embraced her vigorously, drenching the light cotton pants and pale silk shirt she was wearing.

‘Right, you’ve asked for it now,’ she declared, and scooping him up she gave him a whopping great kiss right in front of his friends.

‘No! No! Oh, yuk! Ugh! Dad, stop her!’ Robbie yelled, struggling to get free as his friends clapped and jeered and Michael looked on with great amusement.

Laughing, Ellen started to put him down, then suddenly threw him at Michael. Instinctively Michael caught him, clutching the sopping little body to his own and soaking himself.

‘Oh no, I don’t want you kissing me too,’ Robbie cried in disgust, and quick as a flash he wriggled out of Michael’s arms and escaped back to his friends.

Michael looked at Ellen and they laughed. That Robbie had taken so well to life in LA was a constant source of surprise and relief to them both, though they were always on the lookout for any repercussions to the trauma he had suffered while in Brazil. He had been four years old when he was kidnapped, an ordeal that was sure to bear some kind of adverse consequences the psychologists had told them. But so far there had been none, and more than six months had passed since Michael and Tom Chambers had rescued him. It was also six months since his mother had relinquished custody and allowed him to come and live with his
father
, which, considering how well he was adapting, went to show how remarkably resilient children could sometimes be.

Watching them together now, it was hard to credit that Michael’s first meeting with his son had taken place on that terrifying night of rescue, for their closeness seemed to derive from a relationship that had started with birth. But that hadn’t been the case, for when Michelle had ended her relationship with Michael and taken off for Sarajevo, she had taken their unborn child with her. And in an effort to punish her Michael had refused ever to have anything to do with the child. Of course, it hadn’t worked that way, for the only one who had really suffered as a result of his pride and stubbornness was Michael. Now he was making up for lost time, and Ellen had to hand it to Robbie’s mother, the woman was far braver and more generous than she could ever be, for handing her son to his father and a strange woman wasn’t something Ellen could ever imagine herself doing. In truth, Ellen knew it hadn’t been easy for Michelle, because she was often there when Michael spoke to her on the phone and tried to comfort and reassure her that Robbie was happy and settling in well at school and at home. Ellen wondered if it hurt Michelle to know that. It had to, even though she’d never want him to be lonely or miserable, she wouldn’t be human if she didn’t crave the comfort of knowing he missed her. Which of course he did, but he loved Michael so much and was so proud to be living with the daddy his mother had told him so much about, that like any other five year old he was often too busy to dwell long on anything, even missing his mother.

Ellen smiled as she watched him and felt her heart fill with love and gratitude for the ease with which he had accepted her into his life. It could have been hell, but because he was such an exceptional little boy, so full of mischief and humour, as well as kindness and love, he
had
gone a long way towards making these past six months the most special she had ever known. In fact there were times when she fervently wished that his father was even half as easy to deal with.

‘I wish I knew why you were mad at me,’ Michael said softly as he slipped an arm around her.

‘Who said I was mad at you?’ she responded.

‘Well, the cold shoulder you keep treating me to lately’s a bit of a give-away,’ he said, his eyes twinkling with humour even though she knew he meant it.

She looked off along one of the walkways to where a vast, lifesize model of King Kong loomed out over the teeming masses below.

‘I don’t get it,’ he told her. ‘You set a date for the wedding, then you can barely bring yourself to speak to me. So what did I do?’

Lifting her eyes to his, she smiled and shook her head. ‘Now’s not the time,’ she said. ‘We’ve got Jurassic Park and Back to the Future to get through yet, never mind ET and the Hard Rock café.’

‘You really didn’t want to come, did you?’ he challenged quietly.

‘Sure I did. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.’

For a moment it seemed he was going to let it go, then, turning her to him, he said, ‘It’s to do with the movie, isn’t it?’

Her eyes fell away as she wondered if it would be a lie to say that it was.

‘A couple of weeks ago you were right behind it,’ he said, ‘so what’s happened to change your mind?’

She looked up into his face and, seeing his confusion and concern, she felt such love swell in her heart that all she wanted was to hold him and forget about what was eating her. But sadly it wasn’t going to go away that easily. ‘Nothing’s happened,’ she said, ‘except that not knowing what we’re up against in a bunch of Colombian drug lords doesn’t exactly make for a restful night’s
sleep.’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe, once the script is in and we’ve got some idea what we’re really dealing with, I won’t feel quite so concerned.’

He was still looking at her, as though waiting for her to say more. ‘Are you sure that’s all?’ he prompted, when she only looked back at him.

She smiled and marvelled at how well he knew her. ‘Why do you say that?’ she countered.

‘I just sense it,’ he said. ‘So am I right?’

‘OK, yes, I am holding something back,’ she admitted, ‘but only because we’ve been so frantic these past couple of weeks that there hasn’t been a chance for us to talk about anything except work or school. I thought we could today,’ she said, looking at Robbie, ‘but this comes first.’

Michael looked at Robbie too, and when she saw the frown on his face Ellen turned him quickly back to her. ‘It’s got nothing to do with him,’ she said, ‘I swear it.’ And, seeing the anguish retreat from his eyes, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘I love you both,’ she whispered.