Читать книгу River of Secrets - Lynette Eason - Страница 10

Two weeks later, Amy still shuddered when she thought about coming upon Juan’s lifeless form, the pillow cutting of his air. She felt sure she would carry that vision to her grave.

They’d informed the policeman who’d come to the orphanage to take a statement from Amy and Lucas about what they’d seen and heard. The officer had even packed up the pillowcase to see if his limited forensics department could find anything but didn’t offer much encouragement, just as Lucas had warned.

Then Amy had filled Anna and Juan in on exactly what had happened. Juan had been puzzled, unable to comprehend why someone would want to kill him, but determined to find out once he gained his strength back.

Anna and Amy had taken turns keeping a vigilant eye on him until he’d grown strong enough to walk out of the gymnasium under his own power. Fortunately, nothing else had happened during that time.

Amy had also grown to care for Salvador Orozco and his little sister, Carlita, who, thankfully, had escaped the illness.

She’d gotten more of Salvador’s story from Anna. Anna had explained Salvador was part of the kitchen staff and cleaning crew. When their family had been killed almost three years ago, he and his sister, Carlita, had lived on the streets before arriving on the doorstep of the orphanage about four months ago. Salvador had explained that he had trouble finding work that would allow him to bring Carlita along. There was no one he could leave her with, so they’d lived on what they could rummage, beg and steal. Only now he needed to leave her so he could find a way to provide for her. They couldn’t live on the streets indefinitely.

Had the orphanage not provided him a job, he would have had to leave his only remaining family member behind. Anna had taken pity on the siblings, believing that being separated from Salvador would do Carlita further psychological damage. So, Salvador stayed and worked, cared for his sister and seemed to form a special attachment to Juan who had taken the young man under his wing.

When Juan asked about the siblings, concerned about their health, she told him, “Salvador and Carlita escaped the illness and everyone else is recovering nicely. Dr. Bennett did an outstanding job setting up the temporary hospital. Everyone has worked tirelessly, rotating just for sleeping and eating, so all the hard work and dedication is finally paying off, thank goodness. You’re getting better.”

Salvador’s obvious anxiety about Juan’s recuperation had him constantly at Juan’s side. His continued insistence on exposing himself to illness exasperated her. “Salvador, you need to get out of here,” she’d said.

“Is he going to die?”

“He’ll be fine, it’s just going to take a little while for his body to heal.”

And Salvador would leave, only to return later in the day to ask, “Is he going to die?” Amy would assure him that Juan was not going to die. She finally left the young man alone. If he got sick, he got sick. He was already exposed, so it was really too late to worry about it now.

Now, almost everyone was on the road to recovery allowing her a little time to herself. She folded the last towel and placed it in the linen closet. Sharing a bathroom with three other relief workers wasn’t exactly on her list of favorite things to do, but she was adjusting. For the first time in her life, she felt she was doing something that really mattered, something that was going to last longer than herself. She was making a difference.

Thank You, God. Keep using me, please. Thank You for allowing me to be here. You know how important it is for me to do this. I know I can never truly make right all the wrongs my mother’s done, especially for the McKnight family. Because of her, Micah’s dead. God, I feel so guilty, yet I know it’s not my fault. I’m not the one who betrayed him, set him up to die, but it still hurts. So, thank You again for this opportunity to help. To make a difference, even if it is for just one person.

Immediately her thoughts went to Juan. She’d wondered what color his eyes were. When he’d opened them, she’d been stunned. His eyes were a blue-gray that seemed to see right into her very soul. They seemed so familiar, as if she should remember seeing those eyes somewhere before. Finally, she decided that it wasn’t necessarily the color of his eyes, but the man behind them.

Stubborn as a mule, he continued to insist that he was strong enough to try to get up. Each time she told him no. Each time, he insisted on trying. So, lips tight, she would sponge the sweat from his face and glare at him as he worked to get up. Although, lately, she had to admit that the last couple of times he’d gotten up, he’d actually stayed up awhile. Definitely an improvement.

A knock sounded on her door. “Come on in.”

Anna stuck her head in. “Good morning.”

Pulling her hair up into her functional ponytail, she mumbled around the rubber band she’d stuck in her mouth, “Morning. What brings you here so bright and early?”

“We had a new kid show up on our doorstep this morning.”

Sadness shifted through her. She pulled the band from her mouth and wrapped it around the mass she held. “Oh. What happened this time?”

“I’m not sure.” Anna planted herself on the bed. “He’s not saying a whole lot. Just that his father died a couple of years ago and he has no other family. His name is Jonathas and he’s seventeen years old. He’s asking for a place to stay until he can find some work. I told him the rules, and he agreed to abide by them.”

“Does he like construction? We could use some more workers to help with our new wing.” Amy realized with a start she was using words such as we and our in conjunction with the orphanage. In such a short time, she already felt she belonged.

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?”