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MARISA WAS USED TO men looking at her and usually paid no attention to it. It wasn't as if she had anything to do with the way she looked. A gift of genes and luck. She hadn't done much to enhance her appearance in years. But tonight, she blew her hair dry with the dryer the hotel provided and left it down. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't worn it in a braid. She even borrowed some of Leslie's makeup—not that her sister wore much. And with the new dress, she was pleased with the results.
When she and Ana stepped off the elevator, the awe in Nate's expression woke up places Marisa had let lie fallow for years. She tried not to smile, failed, and gave in as she followed Ana across the tile floor to where Nate and Leslie were seated. They stood as Marisa and Ana neared.
Nate stared at her until her cheeks warmed. Finally, he shifted his gaze to Ana. "You look so pretty."
"Thank you for the dress, Uncle Nate. It's a little long, but Mama says I'll grow into it, and when I grow out of it, I can give it to anyone I want at the whole orphanage." She turned and looked at Marisa. "As long as it's someone littler than me, right, Mama? Like I can't give it to Abby, 'cause she's my size. Right?"
"Right. Maybe little Julianna, though."
"Si! Bueno! I'll give it to her." She held out the skirt and twirled, face to the ceiling. "I'm the prettiest girl in the room." She stopped. "Right, Uncle Nate?"
He nodded solemnly. "Absolutely."
Marisa had to agree. Ana had never looked so pretty. If they were in the States, Marisa would buy her daughter new clothes all the time. And take her to the zoo and the park, where she could run and play and feed the ducks and pigeons.
She pushed away the thoughts. Their lives were fine. Better than Ana would have had if Marisa hadn't found her. Better than Marisa could have dreamed when she escaped New York. She couldn't focus on what they didn't have. With Nate so close, that was harder than usual.
He met her eyes. "Wow. You look... Man, I don't even..."
A moment passed. Finally, Marisa winked at Leslie. "He's a writer, you know."
Leslie laughed, and Nate joined her. He banged on the side of his head as if trying to shake something loose and started over. "You look very nice, Marisa. Shall we go?"
She took Ana's hand. "Where are we headed?"
Leslie led the way to the glass doors. "I'd like to hit that shopping plaza you guys went to earlier, if you don't mind."
Marisa shrugged. "Fine with me. There were a bunch of restaurants there. As long as we can go someplace where I can get a good old American hamburger."
They walked along the sidewalk toward the plaza, Ana stopping to look at every flower and lizard and bird along the way.
Nate walked slightly behind the girls on the narrow sidewalk. "Marisa," he said about halfway there. "Tell us how you ended up in this town you keep talking about."
She turned to look at him. "It's a long story."
"I'd like to hear it," Leslie said.
Marisa sighed. "Okay. Well, I'd moved to Mexico City."
"Why there?" Leslie asked.
"That's another long story. Which one do you want to hear?"
She shrugged, and Marisa continued. "I was teaching English at a private school. It was fine, but Mexico City isn't New York, and I was wishing I could go someplace less... I don't know. Less dangerous. Less ugly, maybe. Anyway, one day this man approached me and told me his sister's kids were in my class and learning a lot from me—a lot more than they'd learned before. He wanted to know if I'd consider moving to teach English elsewhere, so his own kids could learn. He promised me a clean house and a steady job and a decent salary.
"Of course I asked for more information, and he told me where the place was. I'd hoped it was in the north where it's a little cooler." She smiled and wiped her brow. "No deal. But the pay was good, better than I was making, and with the promise of a house, I would have all the money I needed. Which is very little around here, you know?"
Marisa looked back to Nate, who smiled, though it seemed forced.
Leslie nodded. "So tell us about this guy."
"I had no idea what he did for a living, but he seemed nice." She paused, knowing they wouldn't like it. "He's a drug lord. The biggest one in town. I traveled with him and his family back to our village, and they moved me into the house across the street from the orphanage. The orphanage runs the school in town. All the kids go there."
"Did you have something going on with this guy?" Leslie asked. "I mean, surely he liked you for more than just your stellar English skills."
"He was married. He wanted me to teach his kids."
"It's not like it would be the first time a guy got a little something on the side."
"I'd like to think you know me better than that, Leslie. He was a married drug lord. You really think I'd mess around with a guy like that?"
Leslie shrugged. "Well, Vinnie wasn't exactly squeaky clean."
"I didn't know about that. And he wasn't married. And Vinnie was a good guy. He was going to do the right thing."
"Just seems like that drug dealer wouldn't give you a great job and a house for nothing."
"What is wrong with you?" Marisa hissed the words so Ana wouldn't hear. "I'm a good English teacher, and I'm good with the kids, and he knew that. I can't believe you think—"
"I don't think anything. I'm just trying to figure out how you ended up here."
Nate physically stepped between them, so the three were shoulder-to-shoulder on the narrow sidewalk. "I'm sure you didn't do anything wrong, Marisa." He looked at Leslie, and Marisa imagined the look he might have given her.
"Of course." Leslie sighed. "I didn't mean anything by it."
Nate turned to Marisa. "Are you and this drug lord still on good terms?"
"I quit taking his money when I realized where it came from, but the orphanage pays me just fine. He understood, and nobody gives me a hard time. Everybody knows that Ramón is my...friend, I guess. At first people were a little scared of me. I think they thought what Leslie thought—that something was going on between us. But after a while, people accepted me. I have friends there." She looked past Nate to Leslie. "Friends who believe in me."
"I never said I didn't."
"Whatever."
They walked in silence a few minutes. Nate broke it with, "Is that why you feel safe there?"
"Nobody messes with me."
"Good. That's good. Not that it's healthy to be friends with drug dealers, but if he can protect you..."
"He appreciates how well his kids are learning English. He's hoping to send them to the States for college."
"Oh, good," Leslie said. "Just what America needs, up-and-coming drug lords." She softened the jab with a wink. Typical Leslie. Incapable of saying anything encouraging.
Marisa glared at her sister. "I'm hoping the kids choose a different profession than their father did."
Nate chuckled. "You two are hilarious. Did you fight like this when you were kids?"
Marisa said, "She started it."
"Did not!"
Their laughter filled the sidewalk as they continued to walk.
* * *
THE RESTAURANT THEY chose was located near the center of the market overlooking the fountain. Like many places, it was open to the outside, just separated from the passersby by well-spaced pillars and oversized pots of flowers. Local music was piped through speakers, barely heard over the conversations of the diners and the clattering of dishes.
As soon as they sat, a server placed a large bowl of tortilla chips in the center of the table and small bowls of salsa and queso in front of each of them—perfect for little Ana, who dug right in. Marisa ordered a cheeseburger and fries and tried not to notice Nate's stare as she conversed with the waiter in Spanish.
Most of the meal was spent laughing, catching up, and shooting pictures with their phones. Nate promised to get the photos printed for her, especially the ones of Leslie and Ana, if she could share her address.
If only they could've been a real family. At least her sister'd had the opportunity to meet her daughter. It would have to be enough.
Dinner was enjoyable, but beyond the laughter and stories, the seriousness of their visit hung over them like steam from the fajitas the servers carried by. They smelled so good, Marisa almost wanted to order some of those, too. When they got home, she would miss the variety of delicious food she'd sampled on her visit to Acapulco. It had taken her a long time to get accustomed to the local diet. Now she'd have to do it all over again. Totally worth it, she thought, as she bit into her cheeseburger. She ate every bite.
Ana scarfed down her french fries. "These are yummy, Mama! We should make them every day!"
"You know Carlita doesn't like to fry foods. It's not healthy."
"Maybe we can make them at home. Miss Carlita won't even know!"
Marisa giggled. "We'll see, pajarita."
Ana pointed to the fountain. "Can I go play, please?"
Marisa looked around and saw mostly families, tourists, wandering by. The fountain was only a few feet away, just beyond the half-wall between the restaurant and the market. And Ana was very well behaved. "Promise to stay where I can see you, okay?"
"Sí, Mama."
"Remember, if you can't see me—"
"Then you can't see me. I know, I know."
Sometimes, her daughter seemed four going on fourteen.
"Okay. Be good."
Ana skipped away, and Marisa turned back to Leslie, who was pulling out her credit card.
The waitress cleared the table. "You want anything else?"
"No, thanks," Leslie said.
Nate had twisted in his seat to watch Ana, who'd climbed on the edge of the fountain and was walking around it as if it were an oversize balance beam.
"Nate?"
He turned to her. "You really think she's okay?"
Marisa's seat faced her daughter, so she could keep her in view. "She's fine. Have you talked to Leslie about what you think she should do?"
Leslie looked at Nate. "What?"
He leaned forward and blew out a short breath. "You're not going to like it, but you don't have any choice. You're going to need to go to the police."
Leslie pushed back in her chair, scraping it loudly against the tile. "No. No way. They said they'd kill me."
Marisa leaned toward her. "But what choice do you have? The police can protect you."
"Says the girl living in Mexico."
Marisa sat back, kept her eyes on Ana. She hadn't trusted the police to protect her, true. "But they thought I stole the money, too. I was afraid they'd throw me in prison. Or, even if they did believe me, by the time I convinced them, Charles and his guys would have killed me."
"I know. I understood at the time, anyway. But running made you look guilty. Maybe you should've stayed, proved—"
"How could I prove it?" She glanced at Nate. "I had no alibi for that night. I hadn't left my hotel room."
"You could have tried," Leslie said. "Instead, you ran away. And left me holding the bag."
"What bag? How did it affect you at all?"
"It's affecting me now!" Leslie's shout had heads turning from the surrounding tables.
Nate leaned forward, between them. "Let's calm down. Arguing isn't going to help."
Leslie crossed her arms. Marisa kept her focus on Ana, who was teetering as if about to fall into the water. Marisa started to get up, but Ana straightened and continued her stroll along the edge of the fountain. One wrong move and she'd go over. Marisa prayed she'd land softly in the water and not against the brick pavers on the other side.
All she wanted was for her daughter to be safe. She looked back at Leslie's scowl. She wanted her sister to be safe, too.
Marisa sighed. "I never meant for you to get hurt."
"But here we are."
"I don't know how to help you. I have no idea who took the money."
"You must have some guesses," Leslie said. "You need to come back with us—"
"Absolutely not." Marisa pushed back from the table, then made herself stay seated. "I can't."
Nate faced Leslie. "How would that help?"
"Maybe Marisa knows something she hasn't even thought of yet."
"She and I went over all of it. Many times. I don't think—"
"God forbid something happens to Marisa." She turned to her sister. "What? Are you afraid they'll find you, after all these years?"
"I am, obviously, or I wouldn't still live here." She leaned toward her sister and held out her hand. "But I don't want anything to happen to you, either."
Leslie slipped her hand into Marisa's and squeezed. Leslie had never been the touchy-feely type, and the gesture meant a lot to Marisa. "I'm sorry I'm being such a jerk," Leslie said. "I never understood before how you felt when you ran away. Now, I think I do, at least a little. It's hard believing people want to hurt you. And look at all you've done here. I so admire you for making a life like you have. And I miss you so much." She looked at the table, took a deep breath, and looked back up. "You know how I get when things are out of my control. I'm not mad at you. I'm just... I'm scared. Will you forgive me?"
"Of course. Always." She checked on Ana, saw Nate was watching her daughter, and focused on Leslie. "I want to help. I just don't know how."
"Help me figure out who stole the money."
"They're not going to hurt you." Nate turned his attention to Leslie, so Marisa watched Ana.
"You're the only chance they have at getting their money," Nate said. "As long as they think you can get them the money, you're safe. You have to go to the police before they realize you can't help them."
Leslie pulled her hand out of Marisa's. "No way!"
Marisa blew out an exasperated breath. Her sister was still stubborn as a jackass. Daddy had always said that, and now that Marisa had seen enough jackasses in Mexico to last a lifetime, she had to agree.
"Please, Marisa." Leslie leaned across the table and took her hand again. Marisa could feel her sister shaking. "Please help me."
Marisa squeezed. "If not for Ana, I would risk anything to protect you. Truly. But I can't take her out of the country. She's not legally my daughter." Marisa considered the situation. "Why don't you stay here with us?"
Leslie yanked her hand back. "Right. And do what?"
"I don't know. I could get you a job at the orphanage, or somewhere in Chilpancingo." Marisa loved this idea—to have her sister close by! "You could live with me until—"
"I'm not moving to Mexico. Are you nuts? What about my business?"
Marisa sat back. "I'm sorry. I'm just—"
"Why can't you leave Ana at that orphanage you keep talking about?"
"I'm not going to leave her. What kind of a mother—?"
"You're not even her mother yet. And we're not talking about leaving her forever. Just until we figure this out."
"It's been eight years, Leslie. After all this time, what do you think I can tell you that you don't already know? That Nate and the authorities don't already know?"
Tears filled Leslie's eyes. "I don't know. It's just my life, but hey, don't worry about it. Your daughter's more important than your sister."
"I never said that, just—"
"Forget it." Leslie pushed her chair back and stormed around the corner toward the restrooms.
Marisa sat back and sighed. "What am I supposed to do?"
Nate's eyes softened. "It's an impossible choice."
"If I thought I could help, I would. I'd try, anyway. But I have no idea who stole the money. Never did. Doesn't she think that if I knew, I would have told the FBI? I mean, I'm here because everyone thinks I took it."
"I know. Your sister knows, too. She's just scared."
Ana had stepped back onto the ground and was leaning over the edge of the fountain, her fingers dipping inside. She was probably trying to figure out how to get to the pennies below. Marisa looked back at Nate, who'd shifted his gaze to watch Ana, too.
There was nothing else Marisa could do. They needed to return to Chilpancingo tomorrow and catch a ride home with the guys from her village. At least she and Ana would be safe. If Leslie didn't want to join her, that was her choice.
Leslie returned from the restroom and approached Ana, and the two of them sat on the side of the fountain and talked.
"I'm glad they got to meet," Marisa said. "I've talked about Leslie a lot, tried to tell her about the rest of our family."
Now that Ana was safe with Leslie, Marisa could focus on Nate. His warm brown eyes held hers, and he reached out and took her hand. "You're a wonderful mother. I'm proud of what you're doing here in Mexico. Your sister would be, too, if she weren't so scared."
Poor Leslie. Marisa knew exactly how it felt to be targeted, threatened, given impossible choices. Leslie had been her rock after their mother died. They were both orphans then, since Daddy'd already been gone a year at that point. But Leslie'd been older, established. Aside from her father's family in Puerto Rico, whom Marisa had never met, Leslie was Marisa's only relative.
She'd do anything to help her sister, except abandon her daughter. Tears stung her eyes.
"Hey," Nate said. "It's going to be okay."
Marisa wiped them away with her free hand, the other still gripped in Nate's. She felt safe when he was with her, always had. Hadn't he kept her safe in New York all those years ago? Maybe he could do the same for Leslie. "How is it going to be okay?"
His gaze dipped to the table. "I don't know."
"You'll help her, though?"
He looked up with a sad expression she couldn't identify. "A lot of stuff has happened. I don't know how much help I could be, honestly. She needs to go to the police."
Marisa was about to ask about that stuff when she spotted Leslie and Ana walking toward her, holding hands.
"We're going for a walk," Leslie said. "She wants to show me a toy store she saw yesterday."
Marisa stood. "Okay. Sounds good."
"We thought we'd go alone, if that's all right with you."
"I'd rather stay with her."
"Don't you trust me?"
"It's not that, Leslie." She stifled the irritation. "I just don't usually leave her."
"I'm her aunt." Leslie squeezed Ana's hand. "We'll be fine. We want to get to know each other a little."
Marisa looked from one to the other. "Okay. I guess. We'll meet you back here in... How long?"
"An hour. Okay?"
Marisa nodded and sat back down and watched them leave. As soon as they were out of sight, she stood. "Let's go."
"We could stay. You want to get a drink?"
"I don't drink."
"Still?"
"I need to stay on my toes. Always. Alcohol makes you vulnerable." She took in Nate's tall, strong frame. "Well, maybe not you, but it makes me vulnerable."
Nate gave her a look she couldn't quite decipher. "I understand being vulnerable." He stood, and they walked to the entrance of the restaurant. "Where are we going?"
"I never leave Ana anywhere alone but the neighbor's and the orphanage, and even then, I'm always close by."
"You left her with me yesterday."
She had, hadn't she? "Well, that was different. There are too many people around here. I'm just being paranoid, I know, but we're going to follow them."
"Let's go."
* * *
THE SHOPPING PLAZA had filled with tourists while they'd been at dinner. Now, with the evening coming, tiny lights lit up the trees and bushes that dotted the outdoor market. American music Marisa didn't recognize was piped through hidden speakers, just loud enough to make the atmosphere festive. Laughter filtered from the many restaurants they passed, as did the scent of every kind of food imaginable. Marisa was full, but if she spotted an ice cream place, she might have to force down a scoop. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had ice cream.
Marisa and Nate followed Leslie and Ana, who held hands and window-shopped. After about ten minutes, they ducked into the toy store. Marisa leaned against a large planter a couple of stores down to wait.
Nate perched beside her. "If your sister knew you were following her, would she be annoyed?"
Marisa shrugged. "She wouldn't understand. If she were annoyed, I'd probably deserve it. Leslie was a good big sister. I'm sure she'll be a fine aunt."
"But you're worried."
"Not about Leslie's ability to watch her. It's just... There are people who want me dead. That's not a fear you get over."
Nate stared toward the store's front door and nodded. "I know what you mean."
Seemed he did, too. Interesting.
"It's been a while," Marisa said. "Maybe we should go in and check on them."
Nate checked his watch. "It's been three minutes."
"Oh." She tapped her foot. "It feels longer."
Nate nodded. "So tell me what your life is like."
"We get up, dress, and walk to the orphanage for breakfast. We stay there until late afternoon, after siesta. Most everybody rests."
"Not you?"
"I never got into the habit. I read or prepare lesson plans. It's a quiet time in our village. My least favorite time of the day. My thoughts sometimes drift to New York and what the streets would look like. To how many people would be out at that time." She forced a smile. "But there's no place I'd rather be than with Ana."
"You really miss New York."
"Yes. And no. I miss America. I miss warm showers and soft sheets and all the luxuries that seem like necessities. I miss tall trees and snow and warm boots and..." She watched the store front. Even this place seemed a million miles from her little village. "I'm not sure I could go back to the city now that I've become accustomed to rural life. Even here in Acapulco, all the noises and all the people—strange faces I don't recognize. It makes me nervous."
"You could probably get used to it again."
She could get used to this. To Nate, to the feeling of safety she had when she was with him. To those warm brown eyes peering at her so intently. She'd missed those eyes. Even when she was still grieving Vinnie, she'd known Nate was special. He'd changed since then. She suddenly really wanted to know why. "What about you? I saw you quit—"
"There they are." Nate nodded to the store's entrance, where Leslie and Ana stepped out, hand-in-hand. Ana swung a plastic bag in her other hand and filled the air with her chatter. They turned in the opposite direction from where Nate and Marisa sat and continued their stroll. "They still have forty-five minutes."
"I wonder if Leslie will get tired of her?"
"How could she?" Nate asked. "Ana's delightful. I'm more worried about Ana getting tired of Leslie."
Marisa batted his arm. "Stop. That's not nice."
"Sorry." His smile said he wasn't, but she didn't push it. Leslie hadn't been herself on this trip. She'd been argumentative and short-tempered, unusual for Marisa's big sister. But after what she'd gone through, it was understandable.
They passed a jewelry store, and Nate paused. Marisa peered over his shoulder to see the display of watches. "Nice. You going to get one?"
"Those are Rolexes." He pointed to a gold one. "That's probably fifteen, maybe twenty grand."
She stuck her nose in the air. "Cheap junk. I much prefer a Timex."
As he chuckled, a local came out of the store and approached. "You would like to look, maybe for the lady?"
She giggled. "Go ahead. I'm going to keep following."
"Um..."
She walked away before he could say anything else. She didn't want to lose Leslie and Ana, but Nate didn't have to share her paranoia. If he couldn't find her, they'd all just meet at the restaurant. Though she'd prefer to spend the hour with Nate, maybe she'd be better off walking away. Everything about him was magnetic. She couldn't get pulled in.
And she didn't need him to walk with her. She could do this alone. The thought had her checking over her shoulders. Shoppers, tourists, employees. She was safe here.
She peered ahead, through the throng of people who suddenly seemed to be moving at the speed of cold honey. Leslie and Ana had to be just ahead. After a minute, Marisa still didn't see them. "¡Perdóneme! Excuse me," she muttered as she pressed through the crowd. Her stomach filled with panic. Foolish. Her daughter was with her sister. And Leslie would take good care of Ana.
Tell that to Marisa's racing heart.
She reached the stairs that led to the road at the entrance to the shopping plaza and looked down. There they were, crossing the street toward the bay. The traffic had stopped for the light, but one car whizzed from far down the street in the empty right lane, gunning straight toward them. Marisa opened her mouth to shout a warning, but there was no way Leslie could hear her. The car approached faster, and Marisa had a flash of insight, what life would be like without the two people she loved most in the world. The thought stole her hope.
At the last second, the car screeched on its brakes and slid toward them.
Leslie yanked Ana forward, and the two bolted to the far side. They'd barely touched the sidewalk when the car sped by.
Marisa leaned against the stair rail, breathing as if she'd just run a marathon, and watched as Leslie and Ana made their way to the water, untouched.
Marisa sat on the top step away from the crowds and watched them walk in the gentle waves. Ana was diligent to keep her dress lifted high, so it didn't get wet. She was careful with her things, the few she had. Her daughter had learned to appreciate possessions like most American kids never would. Not that Marisa wanted that for her. She wished she could spoil Ana like Daddy had spoiled her.
If only Ana had a father like that.
Any father at all.
Marisa checked her watch—not even the quality of a Timex. It was nearly time to meet back at the restaurant. Marisa had assumed Nate would eventually find her—she wished he had—but when he didn't show, she figured she'd wait for Leslie and Ana and head back with them.
The two were walking back toward the road now, shoes and shopping bag hanging from Leslie's hand. Ana kept stopping to pick up shells. The two made a beautiful picture against the fading light of the setting sun. If only Marisa and Ana could return to the States. They could all be a family.
And there was Nate, on the sidewalk on this side of the street, right below her. He must have left from a different entrance and been circling. He spotted Marisa, and she waved and pointed at Ana and Leslie just as they reached the crosswalk.
Though the light hadn't turned red, a van stopped suddenly on the street in front of Leslie and Ana. Another car's horn blasted, and the car barely avoided crashing into the back of the van.
Nate had turned back to Marisa. She pointed at the van. He glanced at it, then back. His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to yell.
Someone grabbed Marisa from behind. She turned to look, but a man pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her, and covered her head with a heavy coat. He yanked her toward him, and she lost her footing and crashed against his chest. Her nose filled with the scent of body odor and raw power.
She fought to get away, but his arms squeezed her like a vice. He pulled her with him, and she stumbled along, trying to fight, unable to do anything.
She screamed. The sound was muffled inside his heavy coat. They'd gone just a few feet when she heard Nate's voice. "Let her go!"
The man did, yanking his heavy coat with him.
Marisa gasped in fresh air, stumbled, and banged her shoulder into the stone face of the market. She turned just as Nate reached her.
The pounding of the man's footsteps faded as he rounded a corner in the market and disappeared.
Nate gripped her arms and looked into her eyes. "Are you okay?"
Marisa nodded and turned to check if Ana had seen. She hoped she hadn't. How it would scare her to watch her mother accosted.
But her daughter wasn't there.
"Leslie and Ana." Marisa peered down the stairs. She peered at the crosswalk. She peered at the sidewalk. Her sister and her daughter had been there just a moment before. They should have been staring back up at her, waving, smiling.
But the place they'd stood was empty.