Simon returned to Sofia’s apartment and worked on the information he had found in Juan’s Bible. In the plaza below, preparations were well underway for Enrique’s political rally. Workers strung bunting along the broad stairs rising from the plaza to the church. A podium was erected on the church patio and chairs set in careful rows beneath the trees. Simon worked at the narrow dining table, from where he could see everything and still remain hidden within the apartment’s shadows.
Martinez watched him fill one page after another with calculations and asked, “The professor left you a key to making the device work?”
“We’ll know when the device gets switched on. The professor never had a chance to test his calculations. But from what I can work through on paper, I’d say yes. He’s found the answer.”
Martinez glanced out the balcony doors as they tested the loudspeakers strung from the plaza’s trees. “Enrique holds the rally here to reach out to the poor and the working class. In this quarter everyone knows and respects Harold.”
Simon heard the concern in her voice and asked, “Will he be safe?”
“I’ve got my own people stationed around the plaza.”
Beyond the balcony, workers rimmed the plaza with flags and banner-size posters of their mayor. By the time Simon put away his calculations, Enrique Morales smiled down from everywhere.
Music blared from loudspeakers, and the people came from everywhere except the orphanage. The gates were open, but inside everything remained still. Tightly contained.
The first VIPs arrived, shaking hands as they moved through the crowd. They climbed the stairs just as Enrique’s dark-windowed SUV pulled up below Sofia’s balcony. Simon remained well back from the open French doors, hidden inside the apartment shadows. Agent Martinez stood where the kitchen cabinets met the living room’s rear wall.
Simon watched as a smiling Enrique waved to the crowd and waited while Sofia rose from the SUV. She appeared to have shrunk down inside herself. “I wish she wasn’t doing this.”
“It is the right thing. We must try to keep Enrique from becoming spooked.” Martinez glanced at him. “I wonder why Sofia wanted you to see this.”
“She probably wants me to see Harold at his best.”
Martinez showed him a rare smile. “Sure. I bet that’s it.”
Enrique and Sofia climbed the stairs to raucous applause. A portly man with a bright sash draped over his suit shouted into the microphone. Simon asked Martinez, “What’s he saying?”
“Blah, blah. Politician speech. Same in every language.”
The portly man shouted Enrique’s name and the crowd cheered once more. The television cameras panned the crowd, then swooped up to where Enrique held center stage. His voice boomed out, polished and enthusiastic. His smile was magnetic.
“He’s talking of how corruption and greed once plagued our region, just like the cartel threatens us now.”
“The guy was made for the spotlight,” Simon conceded.
“Now he’s reminding everybody of what he’s done. Cleaning up the streets. Kissing all the babies.”
Dr. Clara was seated on the stage next to the portly man. She cheered as loudly as anyone. When the applause quieted and Enrique started talking again, she glanced up at the balcony.
Martinez said, “With the help of the good citizens of Ojinaga, Enrique is promising to bring the same reforms to all of Chihuahua state.”
The applause grew louder still. Enrique launched into his next statement, then his gaze fastened on something outside Simon’s field of vision, and he faltered. Then the mayor remembered the cameras. He repositioned his smile as he gestured with both hands, waving someone forward.
Harold emerged from the orphanage gates and climbed the church steps. Enrique spoke into the microphone.
“He tells about the shooting,” Martinez said. “How such crimes must be stopped. He introduces the people’s great friend.”
Harold began in his rough-hewn Spanish, which Martinez translated, “I’ll be brief and to the point. Corruption is a cancer that slowly but surely destroys. It can annihilate a community, jobs, stability, peace, pride, its very moral fiber.”
The bandage that gripped his arm and clenched it to his chest magnified the force of his words. Simon felt himself drawn forward so powerfully, he gripped the chair in front of him just to keep himself from moving to the balcony.
“Corruption has a death grip on our town. But I tell you there is a cure. It is called integrity and honesty. And for this cure to work, it must start at the top.” Harold turned and glared at Enrique. “Every individual who is tainted by this cancer must be forced from office. They have no place among us. That is why I am here. Use your vote. Make it happen.”
He used his good hand to point at the church behind him. “We stand here in front of our beautiful parish church. Therefore I’d like to close with a prayer.” He waited for the people to bow their heads, then said, “God, we ask that You give us leaders who hold to Your standard. We ask that anyone in office who is infected by the cancer of corruption be cut down and stripped of power. We ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Sofia forced herself to behave as though there was nowhere she would rather be than by Enrique’s side. She smiled and chatted gaily with any number of people. She allowed herself to be interviewed twice, once by a regional television news magazine, and then for the national nightly news. She was friendly with people she did not see. She felt Enrique’s eyes on her constantly. Measuring. Studying. Wondering.
But it was not until he was leading her back to the SUV that he allowed a trace of his rage to emerge. “What was Harold doing?”
“He is old. He has been shot. Who knows what was behind his words.”
His gaze was as tight as his voice. “Was he accusing me?”
“How could he? He has always admired you. He has . . .”
“What? Say it, Sofia.”
“Harold’s greatest concern is corruption. It is why he has admired you for so long.”
“Then why did he not say that?”
“I do not know, Enrique. You should ask him yourself.”
The words emerged softly, almost a whisper. “I intend to.”
Sofia repressed a tremor of very real fear. “Would you drop me by my office, please?”
“You work too hard.” But he leaned forward and gave his driver the directions.
They did not speak again until the SUV pulled up in front of her business. Enrique emerged from the vehicle with her, waited as she unlocked her door, then planted himself in her way. The brooding menace was still there in his gaze. “You know how I feel about you.”
“Yes. I know.”
“It is time.”
She did not respond.
“I will have your answer.”
She nodded and smiled the biggest lie of her life. “I am ready, Enrique.”
“Yes?” He showed genuine surprise.
“Not here. And first I must tell Harold. It is his right, as my guardian.” Her voice almost broke. “My abuelo.”
“Very well. When?”
“I have a very important meeting this afternoon and evening. I could meet you later tonight.”
His face darkened. “Tonight is impossible. I, too, have commitments.”
“I could join you later, if you—”
“No, no. Tonight is . . . family.”
“Tomorrow then.”
He embraced her. Sofia not only endured it, but returned it. With all the force she had in her, she gripped this strong man and held tight. The repulsion moved through her in waves. She only held tighter still.
Enrique released her and offered his brilliant smile. “I will not sleep a wink all night.”
Sofia replied fervently, “That makes two of us.”