Читать книгу Not Without Her Son - Kay David - Страница 7

San Isidro, Colombia

JULIA VANDAMME-RAMIREZ LOOKED over the crowd milling about her living room. Sipping drinks and eating hors d’oeuvres, her guests, all dressed expensively if not tastefully, mingled and laughed, clearly enjoying themselves. She smiled tightly and waved to one of the women, catching her husband’s attention with the motion. Miguel followed Julia’s gesture, then he turned in her direction and gave her a slight nod.

Julia acknowledged him and drew a deep breath, relief washing over her at his approval. Standing by Julia’s side, Meredith Santera looked out over the crowd in obvious amazement. She was Julia’s best friend. Julia’s only friend…from before.

“Where on earth did these people come from?” Meredith asked. “Surely they don’t all live in San Isidro?”

“They live all over,” Julia answered. “They come to San Isidro because San Isidro is where we live. If they want to do business with Miguel—and they all do—then they make the trip.”

“They’re business associates?” Meredith sounded doubtful. “Including the old broad over there who’s laughing so loud?”

“Not her. She’s the governor’s wife.” Her mask of gaiety intact, Julia waved at someone else then spoke under her breath. “But Miguel told me to be especially nice to her. I guess he wants something from them.” She smiled and dipped her head at someone else. “But if I don’t get out of here in the next two minutes, my head is going to explode.”

Meredith mimicked Julia’s nod to Miguel and spoke graciously, her slow drawl reflecting the Southern past they shared. “Then shall we retreat to the patio? If you’re gonna do something messy, we might be better off outside.”

Julia grinned, her expression authentic this time. “Good point.” She tilted her head to the French doors at their back. “Let me grab another glass of wine and I’ll meet you on the patio. We have a lot of catching up to do. It’s been way too long.”

Meredith murmured her consent before sliding away soundlessly. Handing her empty flute to a passing waiter, Julia waded into the crowd and continued to greet as many people as she could, her mood lifting as she anticipated visiting with her friend. The last time they’d seen each other had been at Julia’s wedding, almost four years ago. She still couldn’t believe her good luck—if she hadn’t left that department store in Bogota at just the right time, their paths would have never crossed. As it was, Julia had cried her friend’s name and grabbed her in a tight hug, impulsively insisting she come to their party a few nights later. Miguel had not been happy about it, but he’d finally relented, realizing it would have created more of a problem to uninvite her.

Reaching the bar, Julia accepted a new glass of merlot, then headed for the rear of the room. She was almost to the doors when Miguel’s fingers slipped around her elbow and he pulled her to a stop.

“You aren’t going to the terrace, are you, darling? We have other guests in addition to your friend, you know.”

His voice was low and husky, as full of charm as ever. Julia’s heart skipped a beat because she knew what was coming.

“I don’t think those other guests would appreciate it if I threw up on them.” She met his black eyes and wondered how she’d ever thought them sexy. “I’m getting a migraine. I need some fresh air.”

“I’m sorry,” he said politely. He always spoke this way to her. Anyone who listened would be impressed by his smooth civility. She had been when they’d met. “I hope it doesn’t intrude on your time tomorrow with Tomasito.”

But she heard the threat, just as he knew she would. Miguel controlled everything in her life, including the amount of time she spent with their three-year-old son, Tomas. When Julia didn’t behave as Miguel thought she should, he punished her by cutting her visits short or eliminating them all together.

Her mouth went dry. “Tomas expects me, Miguel. I told him we were going to have a picnic.”

“Then you’d better not break your promise.” To make his point even clearer, he tightened his grip on her arm. Refusing to change her expression, Julia endured his painful touch.

“Please visit with my guests. All of them.”

He left her standing alone and shaken. With no other option, she sent a quick look through the windows. Meredith had seen the encounter and clearly understood. She mouthed the words Go on, then pointed to a side door and held both hands up, her fingers splayed.

Meredith and Julia had met between Julia’s junior and senior year in high school when Meredith’s family had been transferred to Pascagoula, her father a Naval officer, her mother an Argentinian expat. Julia was the younger of the two by four years, but she’d been home schooled and was much more mature than most kids her age. She’d been thrilled to meet the exotic, world-traveling Meredith, and they’d hit it off immediately. As fall had approached, Meredith had convinced Julia to apply to the same college at which she would be enrolled as a junior—the University of Southern Mississippi. They’d developed the finger flash, a code for skipping out, in a boring history class they’d shared. All ten fingers meant “ten minutes.”

Julia nodded then held her own hand up, adding five more. Miguel would expect her to do exactly as he’d instructed and he’d check to make sure she complied, but if she put on a show for at least fifteen minutes, she’d be all right. He would be involved in something else by then.

Sure enough, by the time she’d made a second circuit of the room, Miguel had disappeared. She glanced up the staircase to his office. The lights were on and the doors were closed. He was obviously holding one of his endless meetings. If she still thought he was the Colombian diplomat he’d claimed to be, she wouldn’t have given his absence another thought, but she noticed it now, because she knew the truth.

Picking up the hem of her beaded dress, Julia hurried through the kitchen and walked outside. She had just crossed the center of the patio when a shadow materialized from beside the house.

Julia stumbled back in fright and gasped, putting a hand to her chest before she recognized her friend. “Good God, you scared me half to death, Meredith. When did you learn to be so quiet?”

Meredith shrugged and waved off Julia’s comment. “Miguel didn’t look too happy. I didn’t want him to see me.” She tilted her head to the window above. “He’s in his office, isn’t he?”

“You’ve become observant, too.” Julia looked up, as well. “He’s having some kind of meeting. He does that a lot when we entertain. I hardly see him anymore, even when he’s here, which isn’t often.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Meredith’s voice was neutral in the darkness. “You must get lonely.”

Julia knit her fingers together. There was no one she was closer to than Meredith, but Julia’s relationship with her husband had never been a topic of discussion between them. For one thing, Meredith didn’t like Miguel and Julia knew it. For another, she’d been raised not to air her dirty laundry. Vandammes didn’t talk outside the family, especially about trouble.

Even as she had these thoughts, however, Julia acknowledged, at least to herself, the real reason she’d stayed silent—she was embarrassed. How could she have made such a horrific mistake? How could she have missed the monster beneath the facade?

“It’s a quiet life,” Julia finally replied. “But I have Tomas.”

“What about friends?” Meredith asked. “We haven’t talked for a long time. Have you gotten close to any of the women inside?”

“They’re very busy,” Julia said. “Everyone has so much to do with the children and everything.”

“The children?” Meredith didn’t bother to hide her skepticism, her voice turning sharp. “They’ve all got nannies, Julia. Nannies and cooks and maids and God knows what else, just like you do. How busy can they be?”

On edge already, Julia felt her throat go tight. She turned away from her friend. She couldn’t explain. Not now.

“Oh, shit. Julia, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that—”

She reached out to turn Julia around, her fingers pulling at Julia’s right elbow. Julia winced as a streak of pain raced up her arm.

“My, God, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“It—it’s nothing,” Julia lied. “I—I fell against the door the other day and my arm’s still bruised, that’s all.”

Meredith froze and without saying a word, pulled back Julia’s sleeve. Even in the faint light that fell from Miguel’s office, the fingerprints were obvious. Meredith let the fabric drop, then she raised her suddenly hard gaze to Julia’s. “What in the hell’s going on here? A door doesn’t leave a bruise like that.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted.

“Nothing, my ass.” Meredith shook her head in disgust, then jerked her thumb toward the window above them. “He did that to you, didn’t he?”

Julia debated how to answer, a heavy silence building between the two women. After a moment, she spoke. “You can’t do anything about this, Meredith. It would be best if you forgot what you just saw.”

“Best for who?” she snorted. “Not you, I’m sure.”

During their college years, everyone had called Meredith a superwoman because she’d righted every wrong she came across, regardless of the consequences. The last thing Julia needed was Meredith getting involved in her problems. The very last thing.

“I’m not important here, Meredith. Okay? And nothing is going to change that. Not even you.”

“If you’re not important, who is? The wife beater up there?”

“My son is,” Julia said, her voice vehement. “And I have to remember that above everything else.”

“Take him and leave.”

“It’s a little more complicated.”

“Nothing’s that complicated,” Meredith retorted. “Unless he keeps you a prisoner or something.”

With three glasses of wine and nerves stretched wire-thin, Julia felt her defenses slip, Meredith’s opening too perfect to resist. “Not ‘or something,’” she said grimly. “A prisoner is exactly what I am. He has my passport, all the cash, everything. I can’t leave.”

Meredith showed so little reaction it made Julia wonder why, but there was no stopping her now, her reckless words rushing out in a torrent. “It’s been that way from the beginning. I hate Miguel Ramirez with every bone in my body. If I could, I’d kill him with my bare hands and never look back.”

MEREDITH STARED at Julia with a gaze steady enough to be unnerving. Between the sudden tenseness and the dim light, she almost seemed a stranger. “Tell me more,” she commanded.

“There’s nothing more to tell,” Julia answered, her anger changing into bitterness. “Miguel is a very controlling, very angry man and I do what he says because I have no choice.”

“C’mon, Julia Anne. Everyone has a choice—”

Julia held up her hand. Meredith was the only person who ever used her middle name, and hearing it now brought back their dormitory days and the whispered confidences they’d shared in the middle of the night. Back then, their biggest problem had been how to arrange the loss of Julia’s virginity. As she thought of the hell her life had become, a bubble of hysteria formed in her throat, but she pushed it down.

“Tomas is the only thing I care about, and I would never leave him.”

“Take him with you.”

“I can’t. I have no funds, no assets, nothing. Even if I did manage—”

“Do your parents know what’s going on? I can’t believe they wouldn’t help you.”

Julia’s jaw tightened. She’d been out of college for a month when she’d met Miguel at a Fourth of July party at a hotel in Atlanta. Her father had argued stridently against the relationship and her mother’s disapproval had been just as vehement, if less vocal. But tired of watching her friends pair off one by one, and lonely as well, Julia had ignored what she thought of as her father’s overprotectiveness and her mother’s snobbery. She’d married Miguel within weeks of their introduction.

Julia had come to think the impulsive act—so out of character for her—had been an unconscious effort to spite her parents and their restrictive nature. If it had been, the trick had backfired. She’d hurt no one but herself.

She shook her head. “I haven’t heard from Mother and Daddy in months and frankly, even if I did, it wouldn’t make any difference. All the money in the world wouldn’t keep us safe. Miguel would find us and when he did…”

“When he did…what? There are laws that protect people like you and Tomas.”

“Laws mean nothing to Miguel, Meredith. You don’t understand—”

“He’s a diplomat, for God’s sake, not a hit man. He may have more than a few privileges, but that doesn’t mean he can do what he likes.”

Julia stepped closer to her friend and dropped her voice. “He’s not what you think, Meredith. He has the ability and the power to do anything he wants, and he has a virtual army at his beck and call. He’s a dangerous man and—”

She broke off abruptly, her pulse going wild as a sudden breeze rippled over the garden. Meredith started to speak, but Julia held a finger to her lips and the other woman went silent. Julia exhaled a moment later, the wind brushing past them with a quiet exhalation that matched her own.

Meredith raised an eyebrow.

“I th-thought I smelled Miguel’s aftershave.” Julia shook her head then rubbed her temples, the rush of adrenaline waking her up to the danger of her indiscretion. What did she think she was doing, telling Meredith these things? If Miguel were to overhear, Julia didn’t have to imagine what he’d do. She knew.

Meredith stepped closer and put her hand on Julia’s arm. Her breath was warm, her expression concerned. “What can I do to help, Julia? You can’t go on like this. There’s got to be a way—”

“There’s nothing anyone can do. Miguel will never let me go without Tomas and I’m not leaving my son behind.”

AFTER THAT Julia said nothing. There was too much at stake for her to be talking like this and she was a fool for sharing what she already had. She shook off the rest of Meredith’s questions and the two women went back inside to find the party beginning to break up, a few people already drifting outside to their cars. Standing in the entryway, Miguel was telling everyone good-night, his second in command, Jorge Guillermo, beside him as usual. Half bodyguard, half counselor, he watched Miguel’s back as well as his bank account. On occasion, Julia thought she saw sympathy in his eyes when he glanced at her, but deep down, she knew that was only wishful thinking. Guillermo was Miguel’s shadow and loyal to a fault.

Both men looked up as Meredith and Julia walked into the living room, and Julia’s stomach turned over when Miguel caught her eye. No one else would have seen his displeasure, but she had learned to read the subtleties behind his every expression. He was angry because she’d been in the garden and not at his side.

She walked swiftly to where he waited and began to bid her guests good-night. Meredith was near the end of the line. Miguel extended his hand to Julia’s friend, but when she took it, he leaned forward and brushed both her cheeks with a kiss.

“I’m so glad you could come this evening. I know you and Julia had a lot to talk about. I hope she said kind things about me.”

Julia held her breath and watched as Meredith smiled warmly at Miguel. “Kind things? She bragged relentlessly and made me envious of her good fortune. Great husband, wonderful home, beautiful child…she has it all. You’re both very lucky.”

Miguel put his arm around Julia’s waist and drew her close. “We make our own luck in San Isidro.” He looked at Julia and smiled slowly. “Julia would be the first to tell you that, yes?”

“Of course,” she murmured.

Meredith kissed Julia’s cheek. “I’ll be in touch,” she whispered.

As the front door closed behind Meredith, exhaustion swept through Julia. She hid it until the last of the stragglers were gone, then she turned and headed for the stairs to check on Tomas. His bedroom and the nanny’s room were on the second floor along with Miguel’s office. Miguel’s bedroom, just like Julia’s, was in a building by itself off a patio on the lower level. She didn’t like being separated from Tomas, but Miguel had insisted.

She was halfway up the stairs when Miguel’s voice stopped her progress.

“I’d like to see you in my office, Julia. Please change your clothes and meet me there.”

She pivoted slowly, her mouth suddenly dry. Had he heard her talking to Meredith? “I’m really tired. Can it wait until tomorrow?”

He seemed to consider her request but both of them knew it was an act. “I’d prefer to discuss this tonight,” he said thoughtfully. “The only time I have open tomorrow is when you’re supposed to see Tomasito. Would you rather we talk then?”

She fumed but silently. “If those are my choices, then I pick tonight.”

He nodded and smiled. “Good.”

Thirty minutes later, she was in his office, but Miguel was nowhere to be found. He often made her wait so she wasn’t surprised, but his inconsideration bothered her more tonight than usual. She wasn’t sure if that was because she’d shared her situation with Meredith or because the headache she’d faked was now becoming real. She crossed his office to stand beside the window and stare at the mountains.

In the valley below, the lights of San Isidro twinkled romantically. When Miguel had brought her to the tiny Colombian village, she’d been enchanted. Quaint streets, red-tiled roofs, charming children… That first day, they’d strolled the twisting sidewalks and Julia had been so happy. She’d thought she’d found true love and was looking forward to starting a family. Everything had seemed so perfect.

A normal woman would have closed her mind to the memories that rose inside her, but Julia no longer considered herself normal. She’d become something else, something that had no name. Miguel had taken away the person she’d been and replaced her with this new being who wanted to remember what had happened because the details fueled her fire.

Closing her eyes, she let the pain roll over her and relished it, the haunting images as fresh now as they’d been four years ago. They’d had a wonderful meal, then Miguel had pulled her into his luxurious bedroom. She’d been looking forward to making love with her husband and she’d moved eagerly into his arms. What had followed was something she did blank out.

Stunned and in shock, Julia hadn’t known what to do except run. The first time she’d gotten to the gates of the compound. The second time she’d made it to the village. The third time…she couldn’t remember how far she made it the third time. Miguel had caught her and locked her in a room somewhere. She still didn’t know where it was. He’d kept her there and visited until she’d gotten pregnant.

Tomas had been born the following March.

Julia had begged for her freedom.

Miguel’s answer had dumbfounded her. “Go ahead,” he’d said. “Leave whenever you like.”

For a second, she’d let herself think about it, then he’d gotten up from behind his desk and come to where she waited. “If you do go, however, you will go alone. Don’t even consider taking Tomasito with you. Should you try, I will hunt you down and bring my son back. I want to raise him here, in San Isidro, to follow in my footsteps.”

“But he’s my son, too,” she’d argued foolishly. “What if I don’t want him brought up that way?”

The look in his eyes had been merciless. “What you want or do not want is irrelevant to this discussion. My son will grow up as I desire. You have no say in this matter.”

“You can’t do that to me,” she’d said.

His reply had been simple and irrefutable. “I already have.”

Despite the warning, she’d taken Tomas and tried one more time. The punishment for her foolishness had been so painful and humiliating she knew the scars—figuratively and literally—would not disappear. Miguel was a master at abasement and she would never be the same. In the end, though, he’d be the one to pay. Her rage and impotence had had nowhere to go, so she’d turned it inward and forged a determination, the likes of which she’d never felt before.

She would escape and she would take Tomas with her. Miguel would burn in hell before she’d allow her son to become his father’s victim, too.

But explaining all this to Meredith would have been impossible. To begin with, it would have taken more time than they’d had but secondly, Meredith would never have understood how Julia could have gotten herself into this predicament, because Meredith would have never allowed it to happen to herself. Meredith was incredibly strong and assertive and smart. She’d joined the CIA right out of college—the CIA, for goodness’ sakes!—then left three years later to start a business with her father, a firm that specialized in international finance. Meredith would have somehow dealt with Miguel and ended the nightmare much sooner. Julia couldn’t risk taking her offer of help, though. She’d be damned if she would put anyone else in jeopardy because of her own foolishness.

In the end, it didn’t really matter anyway. Julia would rather her friend think she was some kind of helpless idiot than to jeopardize the plans she’d begun to lay.

From behind her, Miguel’s voice broke the silence. Her heart pounding painfully, she trembled as she turned.

“Why the shivering? Are you cold? Would you like me to close the window?”

She recovered quickly. “What I would like is to go to bed.”

Something shifted in his eyes.

He hadn’t touched her since before Tomas’s birth, but she worried relentlessly about him coming to her bedroom. She pulled the lapels of the robe she wore closer to her throat.

“Just tell me what you want, Miguel.” Her voice stayed steady. “I’m exhausted and my headache is getting worse.”

He waited a moment and she held her breath, then he spoke. “I’m leaving town tomorrow. I’ll be gone for several weeks and I’m taking Tomasito.”

Surprised as she was, she still realized what he’d done. He’d obviously had these plans in place, yet at the party he’d threatened to prevent her from visiting with Tomas. He must really enjoy torturing her.

She hid her anger, the taste of disgust mixing with a flood of fear. There were worse things Miguel could do than toy with her, she reminded herself, and taking Tomas was one of them.

“Where are you going?” The words were hard to get past the knot growing in her throat.

“Where isn’t important. All you need to know is that I expect you to remember whose wife you are. You may go into town to visit Portia, if you wish, but not alone.”

Portia Lauer was an older woman with whom Julia had developed a friendship. Miguel saw her as harmless and therefore he’d allowed the relationship to continue. His generosity went unnoted; all Julia could think of was her son. “I assume you’re taking Mari?”

“No, Mari will not be going. You coddle the boy too much. He can do without his nanny for two weeks.”

“Miguel! He’s only three—”

“I will handle him.”

The words cost her dearly, but Julia said them without reserve. “Then take me with you. I’ll watch Tomas for you and you can do whatever it is you need to do.”

He seemed to weigh her words, then he dismissed them without even answering, heading for the door instead. At the last minute, he turned. His profile looked like stone in the lamplight. “We’re leaving early. If you want to say goodbye, I suggest you keep that in mind.”