You can’t be serious,” Bourne said, after the nurse had taken away the breakfast tray. Despite Maricruz’s urging, Angél had eaten very little, though it was more than she had consumed the day before. “I’m a doctor. What makes you think I’d help you kill anyone?”
Angél whispered something in Maricruz’s ear.
“Claro, sí, guapa,” Maricruz said, kissing her cheek.
The girl hopped off the bed and, with one backward look at Maricruz, crossed to the toilet and went in.
“Believe it or not,” Maricruz said, “that’s a big advance for her.”
“I see you had a second bed put in for her.”
“Yes, but so far she refuses to use it. It’s all right, I like the company.”
There was a small silence, cut finally by Maricruz. “As to what you said, Carlos Danda Carlos isn’t just anyone.”
“Granted, but I’ve taken an oath to save life, not take it.”
Maricruz shot him a speculative look. “Extreme circumstances call for extreme measures.”
“Okay,” he said, “what am I missing?”
“Someone has to expose Carlos for what he is and what he’s done. Would you be against doing that?”
“Of course not.”
“That’s fine, but this is Mexico, Javvy. Neither you nor I nor anyone else, for that matter, will ever be able to successfully expose Carlos. And even if by some miracle we managed to gather enough hard evidence against him, that evidence would be incinerated before it got out, and we’d be killed.” She cocked her head. “Am I wrong?”
“No.”
“Nevertheless, you agree that Carlos must be stopped masquerading as a champion of the Mexican people while he stuffs his pockets with cartel blood money.”
“Of course. Nothing could be clearer.”
“Well then, the only path open to us is to kill him, isn’t that right?”
“Come on, Maricruz. People like us don’t just go around killing other people.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Then please provide an alternative.”
Bourne had to admire her powers of reasoning. He could imagine a real surgeon—the one who had actually worked on her shoulder—being persuaded by her argument. Of course, he had been ready to jump right in, but in order to maintain his cover he’d had to rely on her to provide a compelling argument. She had not disappointed him.
“I can’t, but that doesn’t mean—”
“Are you a coward, like Carlos Danda Carlos?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
She swung her legs out of bed, held out her hand, which he took, though it didn’t seem as if she required help to stand. “Let’s walk around the suite. I need the exercise.”
Angél emerged to find her with her arm slung through Bourne’s. She stared at them both, blinking hard. At that moment, Tigger poked his head inside the room, and the girl scampered back into the bed, pulling the covers over her.
“Perdóname, señora. I’ve just now heard from Señor Carlos. He sends his regrets, but pressing business has kept him from visiting you today.” He smiled. “But tomorrow’s another day, eh?”
“Thank you, Tigger,” she said, but Bourne, catching the guard’s eye, knew this piece of information was as much for him as it was for her.
They began their circumnavigation of the suite, skirting the second bed.
“How are your legs feeling?” Bourne asked.
“Like tree trunks.” She laughed softly, and Angél poked her head out from the covers. Maricruz laughed again for her benefit. The girl responded with the ghost of a smile.
Bourne didn’t believe Maricruz. Her gait was sure and strong.
Maricruz waited until they were as far away from the door as they could get. “You know, Javvy, I’ve put a lot of faith in you—telling you all these things.”
“Your secrets are safe with me, Maricruz.”
“I’m glad of that because you’ve seen me at my worst.”
“Surely your husband has seen you—”
“Not like this. Not bruised and in pain. Not without makeup and my hair unwashed for days.”
“Not even in the morning when you wake up?”
“He’s up at four in the morning, working. By the time we see each other I’m as I always appear to him. As far as he’s concerned I’m perfect.”
“And what would he think if he saw you like this?”
“Weak and vulnerable? It’d be a fatal loss of face. He thinks of me in a certain way. I work very hard to keep it that way.”
“That can’t be fun.”
“Who says marriage is fun?”
“I know it’s work, but—”
“Believe it or not, sometimes it’s just a job,” she said.
“Don’t let Angél hear you say that.”
Maricruz snorted. “Right.”
At that moment his mobile vibrated. It couldn’t be Tigger warning about Carlos; he would have popped his head in as he had done before.
“Excuse me, I have to take this.”
“Of course,” Maricruz said, turning back to Angél while Bourne went out of the room.
He strode down the corridor to the public toilet, locked himself inside. The call was from Anunciata.
“Trouble,” she said without preamble. “An urgent BOLO has gone out from Carlos’s office to all police and public transportation personnel including rental car companies.”
Bourne frowned. “What about?”
“A bomb went off last night outside Carlos’s residence, destroying his SUV and killing three of his men. You didn’t—”
“Of course not.”
“Well, the BOLO claims you did. The entire city’s looking for you. You’re wanted for terrorism and murder.”
Bourne was surprised that the Federales knew he was in-country. “Why are they fingering me?”
“Apparently, your fingerprint was found on a bomb fragment,” she said. “It was a sophisticated bomb, Jason, not anything the cartels use.”
“Even Los Zetas?”
“Even the deserters don’t have that expertise.” She took a breath. “You’re going to need help now, more than ever.”
“Not from you.”
“What? Why?”
“I’m not going to involve you any more than you are. As of this moment I’m toxic to be around. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“But no one knows who I really am or where I live.”
“And it’s going to stay that way. I’ll be fine. I know how to deal with these people.”
“But—”
“Stop!”
“Okay, okay. How are things going with Maricruz?”
“She’s not what I had imagined.”
“I know she hasn’t gotten under your skin. In your current state, you won’t allow it.”
Bourne knew she was speaking of his rejection of her physical advances. “She isn’t flirting,” he said. “She’s too busy plotting Carlos’s murder.”
“That sounds like her.”
“Does she know she has a half sister?” Bourne asked.
“Who would’ve told her? Not our father, and certainly not my mother. Apart from you, no one else knows.”
“There’s something else,” Bourne said.
“Dígame.”
He told her about Angél.
“I wouldn’t have believed it of her,” Anunciata said. “The child really has no family?”
“No one’s come to claim her, and Maricruz isn’t one to adopt her.”
There was a slight hesitation before Anunciata said, “You know, when it comes to children you never can tell with women. I had a friend—a hard, fierce girl—who claimed she’d never have kids. ‘I’m just not cut out to be a mother,’ she told me more than once. Then she got pregnant, and when the baby was born she melted like butter in the sun.”
Bourne knew Anunciata wasn’t talking about either her half sister or her friend; she was talking about herself.