He looked pleased. “Have you ever flown in a helicopter before?”
“Yes. Over Mount Rushmore.”
“Did you like it?”
“After I found my stomach.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he teased. “If we fly, it will cut down on the time we have to be gone from the ship. This place is going to be a madhouse tomorrow with everyone arriving.”
“You must be so excited, I don’t know how you’re going to sleep!”
His eyes passed over her face and body in swift appraisal. “Neither do I. How about a game of poker on my bed?”
Her heart thudded. He didn’t want their evening to be over yet. “What kind? Black Jack, or Spit In The Ocean?”
Ben shook his head. “Where did you come from?”
She flashed him an innocent smile. “There isn’t much else to do on long blizzardy nights in the hills of South Dakota.”
After a pregnant silence he said, “I think I’ve got a pack of cards in the top of my dresser. Let’s go see, shall we?”
The receptionist looked at Terri expectantly. “Can I get you a drink while you’re waiting for your husband, Mrs. Herrick?”
Ben had just disappeared into his inner office in downtown Guayaquil. He’d told Terri he’d be a half hour at the most.
“No, thank you, but I was wondering if I could use one of the phones in here?”
The other woman’s gaze flicked to an empty desk in the corner. “Maria hasn’t come in to work yet. You can use hers.”
“Does she have a phone directory?”
“In the bottom drawer.”
“Thank you.”
Terri hurried over to the desk in question and looked up the number of the Mirador Apartments. Juanita didn’t have a phone, but the manager would have one. After some searching she found it and pressed the buttons. When a man answered she said, “Do you speak English?”
“A little.”
“I would like to talk to Juanita Rosario. She lives in the apartment that belonged to Richard Jeppson.”
“Ah. The Americano. He—how you say, muerto.”
“Yes. I know. I am Señora Jeppson. Is Juanita still living there?”
“Until tomorrow. Then she must leave.”
“Could you tell her to come to the phone?”
“I no have time.”
“I see. Thank you for your help, señor.”
Terri hung up the phone, afraid her sarcasm had been wasted on him.
Not to be defeated, she looked in her purse for another number and phoned Captain Ortiz. By some miracle he was there, but he sounded surprised to find out she was the person calling.
“Captain? I told Juanita Rosario she could get in touch with me through you. Just now I tried to reach her at the apartment, but the manager wouldn’t let me talk to her. Could I ask a great favor of you and get you to call him? Knowing you’re the police, he’ll probably agree.”