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| THE HEART HAS WINGS I BY MARY CATHERINE |
CHAPTER 1 |
"Téa? What are you doing?" asked her older brother Del Delgado, arriving from his room freshly showered and dressed in a baggy white shirt that he had bought at a street market in the last town. He didn't bother to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "You can't be lounging around the pool. We have work to do."
"Oh, c'mon, Del," she said, sounding equally irked. "We've been bouncing around in that government issue sedan for days following every so-called "hot" lead and possible sighting. It's a wild goose chase. I say we relax tonight and take up the search tomorrow."
"I know this is hard on you, Little Sister," he said in his gruff voice, "but we're getting closer. The bartender recognized the picture, I could tell. But no doubt he's been well bribed to keep his mouth shut."
"So…so you think he's here in Múlege?" asked Téa in a weak voice, wondering for at least the thousandth time whether she really wanted to come face to face with the hunted man or not.
"Probably not. There are a lot of ex-patriot American retirees that live here this time of year, besides all these pilots in from California for the weekend. I don't think he'd risk being recognized." Noticing Téa relax, he continued, "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't check out all the motels and boarding houses. Chances are good that he's been through here, and we may just get the lead we've been looking for."
Téa sighed. "Well, have fun playing cop. I've had enough. I'm going to lay here and have one of those fishbowl sized margaritas-maybe two."
"Listen, Mija," spat Del angrily. "We're down here because after months of nothing we finally got a positive ID on the lowlife you begged me to help you find. You don't want to let the trail go cold, Téa, especially when we currently have the ever-changing cooperation of the local police." Almost on cue, Carlos Jurado, the captain of the local platoon of Federales, joined them. He did a very poor job of hiding his interest in Téa's skimpy bathing suit. Del turned him away and the two of them conversed in low voices while Téa took a moment to get her temper under control.
As her brother returned with Captain Jurado, Téa jutted her chin out defiantly. But Del knew his sister well, and had realized there was no way they were going to get her off the lounge chair, unless it was by force. "Look, Jurado," he said turning to the tall captain. "Why don't the two of us handle this? I think my sister needs a break." Leaning close and using a stage whisper he said, "You know. Woman stuff." Jurado quickly nodded his head, ignoring the smoldering in Téa's eyes when she looked at her brother.
"So, what is the plan?" she asked.
"Well, Jurado says that Don Ramón who owns the place across the river is the man to see for all the local gossip. They say he also makes the best shrimp tacos in all of Baja. If Manning came through here, chances are good that the owner of the Almeja might know where he was heading. So, we'll start there. Keep your radio with you. I just checked. They do work here. They have a repeater and cellular service just around this little town."
Téa rummaged in her handbag and pulled out her radio, holding it up so the men could see she had it on. "Fine. I'll call and let you know if Todd waltzes in and orders a Corona," she said sarcastically.
"You be careful, Téa," warned her brother. "Don't underestimate that lowlife. Once he knows we're hunting him, he'll become even more dangerous. You could be a target if he decides to take a hostage."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it. Todd's a monster. I've heard it all before. Now go on. You wouldn't want him to slip through your fingers while you're talking to me." She flipped onto her stomach, ignoring the men as they walked across the terrace toward the parking lot.
A few minutes later, Téa returned to her lounge chair from the bar, over-sized margarita in hand. Setting it down, she carefully arranged herself on the towel and pulled her romance novel into her lap. She was determined to let herself relax and forget for a few hours the strange set of circumstances that had led to her presence in the sleepy Mexican town in the first place. Gulping at the cocktail, she licked the salt from her upper lip. "Todd," she whispered, her eyes filling up with tears, "how did things come to this?" She leaned back, squeezing her eyes shut tightly, willing away the thoughts of the man she had loved more than her own life; if the truth be told, the man she still loved beyond all reason, in spite of the unbearable pain he had caused her.
It had been almost a year since Todd had run out on her following the revelation of his deception on their wedding night, and Thanksgiving was again fast approaching. Téa had tried to move on with her life, taking a new job as Assistant District Attorney for Llantano Country. She had also taken up with John Sykes, or rather, he had latched onto her. They went on dates, and had even slept together a few times, but it hadn't taken long for Téa to realize that John was merely a distraction while she tried to get over the betrayal by Todd. Since Sykes had failed to fill the void, she tried to throw herself into her work. It turned out she had an affinity for the prosecution side of the law, and won many more cases than she lost. But as month after month passed with no word from Todd, she began to be obsessed with finding him.
Her boss, Hank Gannon, hadn't wasted any time filing perjury charges against Manning stemming from his performance on the stand during the kidnapping trial, and within days of his disappearance he was a wanted man. Téa had spent months on pins and needles, wanting Todd to be found, but fearing that he would be hurt, or worse, during an arrest. Growing impatient as months went by and a nation-wide manhunt turned up no leads, she began to investigate on her own time, making hundreds of phone calls and carefully checking credit card and airline records. Finally, in desperation, she turned to her older brother Del, who was with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He had really made a name for himself, and was now a Deputy Director of the New York field office. Wielding a lot of power, he was able to check some sources that were unavailable to her and had finally turned up a trail that led straight into the remotest part of the Baja Peninsula. Given that he had fled across state lines to avoid prosecution, Del succeeded in having federal charges added against the fugitive, and had soon appointed himself chief agent in charge of running Todd Manning into the ground. Soon the cooperation of the Mexican authorities had been secured, something that was not usually forthcoming for "gringos", especially law enforcement officials who might look askance at the Mexican way of doing business-namely bribery. But, being Hispanic himself, Del had been able to cut through the usual red tape and secure permission for them to cross the international border to take up the chase.
Téa had insisted on coming along on the hunt, telling herself that she deserved to be in on Todd's final downfall. In reality, she wanted to make sure that Del didn't get over-zealous in his efforts to bring Todd to justice. Yes, she wanted him found, but there was no way she was going to let him get hurt. She hadn't admitted it to her brother, but she wasn't at all sure she even wanted to see Todd punished. Perjury charges were serious, but with the proper defense, and maybe a plea bargain, she was reasonably sure Todd could avoid jail time. Hopefully, she could use emotional blackmail and cajole her brother into dropping the federal charges.
In her heart of hearts, Téa was deeply fearful for her wayward husband. She was convinced that he must be in deep trouble or very sick to cause him to avoid all contact with his daughter, Starr. She had questioned the sad little girl thoroughly, and there was no doubt in Téa's mind that she had heard nothing from her father. If she could just see Todd and convince him that Starr needed him, Téa was sure she could talk him into returning to the States voluntarily. And if he agreed to that, Téa vowed that she would help him any way she could, even if he rejected any kind of a personal relationship between the two of them. Secretly, she was hoping for much more. Even her brother didn't know that her marriage to Todd was still valid. She had never filed the annulment papers.
Taking another gulp of the margarita, she reached into her over-sized handbag and pulled out the extradition order, signed by the governor of Baja California Sur. If they found Todd and the Federales managed to arrest him, he would be returned almost immediately to the United States. Sure, he could fight the extradition, but that scenario was unlikely. All that would gain him was months in a Mexican jail, something he would surely want to avoid. Of course, years in an American prison, especially a federal one, was not something to look forward to, either. With a threat like that hanging over him, a man like Todd was not going to go down without a fight, and therein lay Téa's greatest fear. Feeling the buzz from the tequila, she breathed a little silent prayer. Whether she prayed for Todd to be caught, or to get away, she couldn't say.
**** After a shower and a short nap to sleep off the effects of the tequila, Téa joined the group of tourists gathering for the weekly fiesta at the Serenidad. She didn't feel much like partying, but it was better than being alone. She had had enough of that recently. After another margarita, she was in a happier mood, and had soon joined a group of elderly American retirees. They fawned over her, making her miss her grandmother back home in the States, and she found herself enjoying their company more than she would have imagined possible. They also provided protection from the group of randy and inebriated pilots who had arrived that afternoon without their wives and were clearly looking for a little action of the forbidden type.
As soon as he killed the engine on the Honda motorcycle, Todd could hear the mariachi music coming from the main terrace of the hotel. He groaned in annoyance, scowling into the darkness of the gravel utility yard at the side of the Serenidad. After spending a week living in a palapa on the beach at Santispac, he had returned to civilization for a decent meal and a shower, forgetting that Saturday was fiesta night at the mid-Baja resort. The place would be lousy with local retirees and weekending pilots from the States. Definitely not conducive to keeping a low profile, even if he was in the mood to tolerate off-key renditions of Cielito Lindo. Bitterly resigned to spending another night sleeping on the beach, he swung his leg over the bike and kicked the parking stand into place. "May as well check on the plane while I'm here," he thought, carefully skirting the hotel to avoid being noticed by any of the patrons.
Keeping to the darkness at the edge of the party, he headed for the arched gate that led to the airstrip. His mood lightened considerably at the thought of his current favorite toy, Skylane 6764M. Like pilots everywhere, he said "Mike" instead of the letter "M", using the common call signs for letters that had been adopted years before to facilitate understanding over static-filled radios. The plane had been tied down at the Serenidad for several weeks, and Todd could feel the usual excitement he felt every time he was in an airport environment. He had always been fascinated with planes and aviation, but had never found the time in his busy life to actually become a pilot, contenting himself instead with ownership of several private jets.
But all that had ended a year before, when he had decided to disappear from his old life and start over. The pain of leaving behind people he loved had been almost more than he could bear. He tried to tell himself over and over that he was saving them; that all of them would be better off without the singular hurt that only he could inflict. Deep down he knew the truth-by leaving them without a word, he had wounded them far worse than he ever had before. Trying to drown out the feelings of failure and heartache that abandoning his wife and daughter had left in his heart, Todd had thrown himself into a new project. Settling himself discretely in Northern California under an assumed name, he had started training with a flying instructor. With nothing else to do, he had progressed rapidly, and had received his private pilot's license within a few months. He continued training in the difficult art of flying solely by reference to instruments. Before he could complete the course, however, he discovered that not only was he hiding from his family, he was indeed on the run from the law. Spooked by the potential resources available to U.S. law enforcement, he decided it was time to leave the country.
After purchasing 64M from a Sacramento County farm family on the verge of moving up to a Centurion, he had high-tailed it across the border into Mexico. He had spent the last few months living an aimless existence of traveling between remote fishing villages and low-rent resorts where he wouldn't be noticed or recognized. Although many nights he had tried to drink himself into oblivion, the only times he really felt free of the past were the times he spent aloft in his Cessna 182. During those moments, he could throw himself completely into the minutia of cockpit management, thinking of nothing more emotionally wrenching than conserving fuel or correcting for a crosswind. But on the ground, during the long hours alone, the ghosts of the past came back to haunt him.
When he had finished checking on his beloved airplane, Todd slowly made his way back to the warm and inviting resort. He lingered in the darkness, observing the dancing and good-natured hijinks of the current crop of tourists. Although he usually avoided such gatherings like the plague, for some reason, he longed to join the group tonight. There was something different about the place, something he couldn't quite put his finger on that was drawing him in. Knowing that mixing with so many people from the United States was a risk he couldn't afford, he sighed deeply and turned toward the parking lot to seek his Honda and the oblivion of a deserted beach. After taking a few steps, he stopped cold, the vision of the last table he had observed imprinted on his memory. He stared into the darkness, shaking with shock. It couldn't be. Not here. It had to be the longing in his heart playing tricks with his mind. This was Mexico, for God's sake. There were beautiful Hispanic women everywhere. The odds that she would come here were slim to none. He breathed hard, willing his feet to continue on their path toward escape. But the desire to know was just too great. He had to make sure it was just his over-active imagination that had caused him this vision of the past.
Slowly, he turned around, peering into the light, looking for salvation. He heard the distant sound of her laughter over the pounding of his heart. She sat with a group of elderly couples. Her hands reached out often to caress the arm of this white-haired gentleman or the shoulder of another, gently flirting. But it was obvious the women were infatuated with her as well, seeing in the beautiful young woman the daughters and granddaughters they had left behind in the States. Her sparkle lit up the table, the whole party, but it hit Todd like a punch in the stomach. He stood in the darkness, tears beginning to blur the vision of his angel. Part of him wanted to rush to her, fall at her feet and beg her for forgiveness, for the redemption he craved so deeply in his soul. But deep-seated fear clawed at his heart: the fear of rejection that had always been a major part of his psyche, and the fear of the demon within him that he was sure could tear her apart if he let it slip from its tightly held leash.
Téa looked up from the table, turning away from her companions, letting the flow of the conversation ebb around her. Her eyes turned toward the darkness just beyond the gate, and Todd could see the sadness there that mirrored his own. It was almost as though she could see him standing there observing her, but he knew the darkness hid him completely. With a polite excuse to her newfound friends, Téa rose from her seat and drifted toward the chainlink fence, staring out into the darkness. Todd stood frozen to his spot, not daring to let himself hope; too frightened to believe that she could actually have come all this way to find him. As he watched, she put her head down. He could hear sniffling, and saw the glint of tears on her cheeks. Something in him ripped free, and he took a tentative step forward. At the sound of the footfall, Téa's head snapped up. Her head moved from side to side as she searched the darkness for the source of the sound. She moved toward the gate.
"Mija! Téa!" shouted a hearty voice, its owner's feet making loud footfalls on the tiled terrace. Téa looked tentatively from the new arrival to the obscurity beyond the gate, biting her lip as though she was torn between the two. Todd's blood ran cold as he recognized the intruder. It was her brother, the Fed. And the uniform of the man with him identified him as a captain of the Federales. Todd's heart nearly broke. She wasn't here out of love for him; instead, she had brought the law down on his head. Damnation, not salvation. The last vestiges of his self-control gave way, and with a soundless cry, he turned on his heel and ran into the night. He crossed the runway and ran at top speed through the shanties that bordered the mouth of the Rio Múlege, moving blindly, stumbling wildly on the broken rocks along the shore. Finally, when his lungs felt as though they might burst, he collapsed among the mesquite bushes that bordered the beach. He fell on his stomach and sobbed into the ground, his fists grinding into the desert sand.
Del immediately noticed his sister's distraction as she looked away from him again and again to stare into the blackness beyond the gate. "What is it Téa?" he asked, suddenly alert. "Did you see Manning? Was he here?" He reached around behind his back, lifting his baggy shirt and feeling for the handle of the pistol he carried in a holster.
"No!" shouted Téa. "Relax, Del. I didn't see or hear anything about Todd." Her brother released his weapon. Téa continued to stare into the dark. Del reached out and cupped her face, turning her toward him. "We met several people who have seen him around town less than a week ago. Are you sure, Téa? You're not protecting that low-life, are you?" She pulled away in annoyance.
"I'm telling the truth, Big Brother. I didn't see Todd." But I felt him. Or was it just wishful thinking? "I'm going to bed. We can start searching in the morning." She walked off toward her room, feeling tears begin to roll down her cheeks. If Todd was here, if he had seen her, he hadn't come forward. He didn't want to talk to her; he had rejected her again. Entering her room, Téa threw herself full-length across the bed, her body wracked with sobs.
Outside, the moon rose over the desert. Its beams came through the hotel window, illuminating the broken-hearted young woman crying on the bed. A short distance away, the moonlight filtered through the branches and leaves of a mesquite bush, shining down on a man who had reached the end of his rope.
