10

 

Tansy didn’t know how long she sat in the hard wooden pew. She’d prayed for guidance, for protection, for a rescuing angel to swoop in and show her the way home, for a way to reconcile her heart to leaving Sebastian when her task was finished. That prayer had caused the backs of her eyelids to sting, so she’d started praying for Eva and Darcy—that justice and righteousness would prevail.

The light tap on her shoulder made her flinch. No one had bothered her or spoken to her since she had taken the seat. Turning, she recognized the young tour guide she had seen earlier. Was it closing time? Did churches close?

“¿Perdon, hablos espanol?” The woman asked, her voice pitched low in deference to the worshipers.

Tansy shook her head.

“¿Americano?”

“Yes, sí.”

To Tansy’s surprise, the young woman stuck out a hand. “I’m Toulouse,” she said. “Like the painter.”

Tansy accepted the proffered hand. “Tansy. Like the flower. Nice to meet you.”

“Mind if I sit?”

Tansy scooted over, and Toulouse dropped into the pew with a sigh. “My feet are killing me.” She leaned over, slipped out of her ballet flats, and began to rub the soles of her feet.

“You are a very good tour guide. I listened to part of your presentation,” Tansy said.

“It’s part of my training. I’m planning to work for the ambassador, eventually.”

“An admirable goal.”

Toulouse chuckled, a throaty sound that carried up the pews and made one person turn and frown in their direction. “Not really. Hey, let’s get out of here,” she whispered.

Lord, I’m trusting You, Tansy prayed silently as she followed Toulouse outside.

They bypassed the beggars, the rows of old women and children and wizened men lined up in chairs along the wall of the cathedral. Some offered crafts for sale, others just held out a hat or a cup. Tansy slowed, but Toulouse pulled her into a broad, open square filled with statues and fountains.

It was late afternoon, and the light was beginning to fade.

Tansy suppressed a ripple of anxiety as Toulouse tugged her to a bench and plopped them both down.

“So, you’re an American, and you’re obviously lost. Or in some kind of trouble. Can I help you?”

Tansy blinked. “Do I look lost?”

Toulouse laughed, louder this time. “Oh sister, as a goose in the fog. No one sits in that church all afternoon unless they’re lost, homeless, or hiding from someone.” She pinned Tansy with a clear brown gaze. “Which one are you?”

Tansy thought for a moment. “Lost and hiding, I suppose.”

“Bummer. You can come to my place.”

Tansy looked up, met Toulouse’s gaze. “Seriously? What if I’m dangerous or something?”

“Girl, nobody who prays all afternoon can be too dangerous. Come on.”

Tansy followed the brisk pace Toulouse set.

“You’re from New York, aren’t you?” she asked her new friend.

“How’d you guess? The accent?”

“No, your walking speed.”

Toulouse had an easy laugh, one that spoke of confidence and freedom.

“How long have you been here?” Tansy huffed.

“Three years. I squeaked through two years of junior college and knew I had to get out, see the world. Public school, it’s a soul-killer, you know? I ended up here. Once I finish the language program, I’m guaranteed an internship in the ambassador’s office. My uncle works there, so I have an ‘in.’ Which reminds me,” she said, looking at the sky, “he’s coming for dinner, so we need to hurry.”

“We’re already hurrying.”

Toulouse chuckled, then turned serious eyes on Tansy. “Hey, maybe he can help you out of your mess.”

Tansy smiled, and then started to laugh, joy bubbling up and overflowing as she scurried after Toulouse. Thank You, Jesus. God was well aware of where she was, who she was, and He was altogether in control of her situation.

Toulouse arched one elegant brow. “Something funny?”

“No. I’m sorry. I’m just happy to have met you. God does hear our prayers.”

Toulouse raised one elegant black brow. “OK, that’s a given, as far as I’m concerned. Let’s get food and go home.”

They stopped at an open-air market, where Toulouse bartered for her pick of avocados, the biggest grapes Tansy had ever seen, and some bananas. They stopped again at a café for take-out bouillabaisse—fish soup that smelled delicious but looked awful.

At Toulouse’s apartment, the booming bark of a large dog echoed behind the door.

“That’s Germaine. He’s relatively harmless, but let me go inside first.” Toulouse handed the bags of food to Tansy and unlocked the door.

Tansy had no intention of intercepting the source of the vicious bark, so she stepped back and watched Toulouse be bowled over by a half-grown German shepherd upon opening the door. The dog pinned her to the floor and licked her face with abandon. She shoved at the canine, barking her own commands in Spanish and English. He dropped back on his haunches, tongue lolling to one side.

Toulouse got off the floor and turned to Tansy. “Germaine, this is Tansy, she’s a friend. Shake.”

Germaine lifted one paw. Tansy reached out her hand with caution. The dog dropped his furry paw into her palm, and Tansy smiled. She’d always wanted a dog to bond with, to share her secrets with. “He’s precious,” Tansy murmured.

“He’s a pill, but he’s an effective security system in this neighborhood, so I put up with him.” Toulouse rubbed the shepherd’s ears with an affection that belied her brusque tone.

The apartment was small, efficient, and ruthlessly tidy, in spite of the dog.

Toulouse arranged the meal on a tiny table set for three, moving back and forth between the small galley-style kitchen and the dining area. A knock on the door had Germaine barking again. Toulouse held the dog by the collar as she opened the door.

Tansy stood behind a chair at the table, suddenly nervous.

“Tansy, this is my Uncle David. Uncle David, this is Tansy. I found her at the cathedral today. I think you might be able to help her out, but let’s eat before we talk, I’m starved.”

Toulouse’s uncle, a distinguished-looking man with a full head of silver-white hair, grinned at his niece, then turned to Tansy. “It’s nice to meet you, Tansy. We’ll have to feed Toulouse before we can get anything else done. She gets…what’s that nonsense word you use?”

“Hangry,” Toulouse replied over her shoulder. She dragged Germaine into another room, out of sight. A moment later she reappeared, shutting a door behind her. “It means I lose my temper when I’m hungry. Hungry, plus angry, equals hangry. So let’s eat.”

They sat at the table and Toulouse bowed her head. “Heavenly Father, bless our bread and water, and take sickness from our midst. I pray for my sister, Tansy, and ask You to keep Your hand upon her as she travels, to guide her every step, and to bring her into the fullness of Your perfect, divine plan for her life. In Jesus’s name, amen.”

Tansy murmured “amen,” as did David.

Toulouse’s bold faith reminded Tansy very much of Eva.

Toulouse picked up a spoon and plunged it into one of the containers of soup as if she hadn’t eaten in days. “Fast metabolism,” she muttered around a mouthful of fish. “So, tell us your tale.”

Tansy hesitated, looking from Toulouse to David, and back into her bowl of soup. How much could she divulge to them without defying Eva’s stern instructions to tell no one about the walking stick? Lord Jesus, help me. With her mouth gone dry as chalk, Tansy shared what she thought she safely could, beginning with the theft of her traveler’s checks, then her rescue by Sebastian MacKenna, the church service, then visiting the Parque Forestal and Los Dominicos, to the abduction and car accident with Diego Vargas and her narrow escape.

Toulouse and David put down their spoons.

“Did you say the man who abducted you was named Vargas?” David asked.

Tansy nodded. “Diego Vargas. Why?”

David dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “Would you ladies excuse me? I need to make a call.” He rose and went out the front door.

“And I thought my life was exciting,” Toulouse said.

Tansy groaned. “Mine’s too exciting. I really just want to find Sebastian. Do you think your uncle can help me?”

The door opened again, and David crossed the room at a brisk pace. He placed his hands on the back of his chair and looked at Tansy.

 

****

 

Tansy’s heart pounded. Had she made a terrible mistake?

“Well, my dear, it would appear you have stumbled into a messy situation,” David dipped his head in a diplomatic gesture even Tansy recognized.

She pressed her napkin to her lips, feeling as if she’d been sucked into an alternate universe. If David was correct, and she had no reason to doubt him, Diego and his family were under investigation for a multitude of crimes.

After a few phone calls, David had ascertained that Diego and Andreas were both in the hospital, in serious but stable condition, and the police were looking for the unknown female who had run away from the scene of the accident.

“That would be you?” David asked.

“I’m afraid so.” Tansy pulled her hands into her lap and drew her knees up against her chest. Whether Diego knew she had the walking stick or not, he made her nervous.

David drummed his neatly manicured fingers on the tabletop. “Why do you think Diego picked you out of the crowd at Los Dominicos?”

Tansy swallowed, hard. She was convinced Diego had been searching for the walking stick during his trip to Colorado. But if she told David and Toulouse about that, she would break her trust with Eva.

She looked from one earnest face to the other. Could she trust them? Did she have a choice? She could either trust them, or trust Sebastian, who was definitely linked to Diego—the man who had kidnapped her and nearly killed her.

Lord, it’s in Your hands.

“Diego is related to Sebastian MacKenna, the gentleman who helped me after I was robbed at the airport.”

“Related? Why would you think they’re related?” David’s fingers thrummed against the table in a nervous gesture that rattled the silverware.

Toulouse reached over and clapped her fingers over his, stilling his motion. “Would you relax? You're going to freak Tansy out.”

Tansy glanced at her new friend and flashed a grateful smile. “Well, they—Diego and Sebastian—look a lot alike, for one thing. And Diego called Sebastian ‘mi primo’ at the restaurant, and Sebastian said Diego was his cousin.”

Toulouse and David exchanged a glance.

“Seriously?” Toulouse murmured.

“I knew Diego had a cousin,” David replied. “A cousin named Sebastian.” He flicked a crumb from his tie.

“A gorgeous, wealthy cousin,” Toulouse sighed. Then she reached across the table and covered Tansy’s hand with her own in a warm squeeze. “But his last name isn’t MacKenna. It’s Sandoval.”

 

****

 

Sebastian was surprised to see Ben on the other side of his doorway.

“I thought you were in Osorno.”

“I said I was headed home.” Ben stepped inside, removing his cap. “Sebastian? You remember me saying that deception never ends well?”

“Where is she, Ben? I’ll straighten it all out, I will, but first I have to find her.”

“Diego and that vile friend of his were in an accident. They’re both in hospital. Witnesses said they saw a woman escape from the crash and run away, but no one has seen her since.”

Sebastian groaned. Could it get worse?

His cell phone rang, and he scanned the screen. Abuelo. Again.

“You should take that.” Ben’s expression answered Sebastian’s unspoken question. Yes, it could get worse.

He answered the call.