Stuart Woods - Mounting Fears

“At the border, the guard, who was very young, was scared when he saw what was happening, and he yelled, ‘Get out of here!’ and waved his arm, and Big Martin put his foot down.”

Barbara switched off the recorder. “Pedro, this is very important: Were you in the United States when Martin was born or in Mexico?”

“Between, I think. I don’t know exactly.”

“Pedro, you are Martin’s friend, are you not?”

“Oh, yes, for his whole life.”

“Some people are going to come here soon and ask you about this, and it is very important to Martin that you tell them the car was already in the United States when he uttered his first cry. Do you understand?”

Pedro looked at her for a long moment. “Little Martin will be your vice president, is it not true? This is what I am told.”

“Yes, Pedro, he will be the vice president if he was born in the United States. Do you understand?”

“Ah, yes, I see,” Pedro said. “Let me think. Ah, yes, I remember.”

Barbara turned on the recorder again.

“We came to the border, and I got into the backseat with Magdalena, and the young border guard looked inside and said, ‘Get out of here!’ so Big Martin put his foot down, and we drove into El Norte, and two or three minutes later, Little Martin uttered his first cry.”

“And is that what you will tell everyone from now on?”

Pedro spread his hands. “But it is the truth, seсorita. I must tell the truth, mustn’t I?” He gave her a big smile.

A car driven by a young woman pulled up, and Pedro stood. “You will please excuse me, seсorita,” he said, “but I am to go now to Tecate, to the birthday of my youngest sister.” He picked up his little duffel, got into the car with the woman, and they drove away.

Barbara waited a moment, taking in the view, then she got into her car and drove back toward Baja Malibu. As she turned onto the main road, a black car driven by a man in a suit turned onto the road toward the Martнnez house. Another man in a suit sat in the rear seat with a blonde woman.

Barbara had the feeling she had not been a moment too soon.

Kerry was surprised that his cell phone worked at the Martнnez house, but soon he had Bob Kinney on the line.

“Where are you, Kerry?”

“At the home of Pedro Martнnez. He left the house only a few minutes before we got here. A woman here says he went to someplace called Tecate, to his sister’s birthday party. I don’t even know where Tecate is.”

“When is he coming back?”

“He’ll be here by lunchtime tomorrow, according to the woman.”

“Go to Tecate and question Martнnez there.”

“The woman doesn’t know where the sister lives, or even her name.”

“So you’re stuck there for another twenty-four hours?”

“It looks that way.”

“All right. Check into a hotel, and get it done tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Kerry said, but the director had already hung up. He and Shelly walked back to the car and got in. “Driver… What’s your name again?”

“Josй, seсor.”

“Do you know of a decent hotel near here? Not in Tijuana?” Kerry was nervous about Tijuana; he had heard too many wild things about it.

“Oh, yes, seсor. There is a very good hotel in Baja Malibu, on the beach. I have the number in my cell phone.”

“Will you please call and book two rooms for us? Just one night.”

“Of course, seсor.” The man made the call. “They have the rooms, seсor. Shall I drive you there?”

“Yes, and you’ll need to pick us up at, say, eleven o’clock tomorrow morning, drive us here, then back to the airport in Tijuana.”

“Of course, seсor.” He put the car into gear and headed to Baja Malibu.

Kerry checked in at the desk and told the desk clerk they wouldn’t need a bellman, since they had light luggage. The clerk gave him two keys and directions to the rooms, on the top floor.

They took the elevator upstairs, and Kerry found the rooms. He unlocked the door of the first one and handed Shelly the key. “Would you like to have dinner later?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“I’ll book a table in the restaurant. Seven o’clock?”

“That will be fine.”

“I’ll knock on your door.” He walked down the hall and let himself into the next room. It was nicely furnished with a flat-screen TV, and there was a terrace overlooking the sea. He heard a knock at the door and walked back into the room and opened it, but no one was there. Then the knocking came again, and he found that it was coming from another door in the room. He opened it and found Shelly waiting.

“It’s not two rooms,” she said, “it’s a suite.” She was standing in a sitting room.

“I’m sorry,” Kerry said, walking into the sitting room and picking up the phone. “I’ll call down and fix this.”

“Yes, seсor?” the clerk said.

“I asked for two rooms, but you gave me a suite, instead.”

“Seсor, a suite is two rooms.”

“But I wanted two bedrooms.”

“Ahhh,” the clerk said. “Just a moment.”

“I’m on hold,” Kerry said to Shelly.

She nodded.

The clerk came back. “Seсor?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry, seсor, but the hotel is fully booked. You got the last suite.”

“You don’t have even one more bedroom?”

“No, seсor.”

Shelly was waving at him. “It’s all right,” she said.

“Thank you,” Kerry said to the clerk, and hung up.

“I’ll sleep in here,” Shelly said.

“No, I’ll sleep in here. You take the bedroom. I insist,” he said, holding up a hand. “There’s a comfortable-looking sofa.”

“Oh, all right,” she said. “I’ll go freshen up.”

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, opening the refrigerator behind the bar.

“I don’t suppose there are any margaritas in there?”

He held up a can. “Actually, there are.” He poured them each one. “No salt, I’m afraid.”

“That’s all right. I don’t like salt on my margaritas, anyway. Excuse me for a minute.” She picked up her bag and, taking her margarita, walked into the other room.

Kerry hung up his jacket, took off his tie, and rolled up his sleeves, then he grabbed his drink and walked out to the terrace. He arranged himself on a lounge chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

“There,” he heard Shelly say, “that’s better.”

He opened his eyes and found her spreading a towel on her chair. She was wearing a very small bikini, and the effect was riveting.

“Why don’t you put on your swimsuit and relax?” she said, arranging herself on the lounge chair.

“I didn’t bring one,” he replied, with regret.

She regarded him coolly. “Boxers or briefs?” she asked.

“Uh, boxers.”

“Same thing as a swimsuit,” she said. “You’ll burn up in those clothes.” She closed her eyes.

Kerry sat there, uncertain.

“Oh, go on,” she said, without opening her eyes.

He went back into the sitting room, hung up his trousers and shirt, and walked back to the terrace in his boxers, snagging another can of margarita on the way.

He refilled her glass, and she opened one eye. “Mmm, you’ve been working out.”

“Most days,” he said, holding in his belly. “There’s a gym in my building.”

“Good for you. Most of the agents in the Hoover Building are pretty dumpy-looking, except the youngest ones, and they’re…”

“Callow?”

“The perfect word,” she replied. “Are you seeing anyone back in D.C.?”

“No. I recently broke up with someone. You?”

“I’m about to break up with someone,” she said.