“They killed the priest?” He kept his voice matter-of-fact.
“They did. And the two women from the village who worked there as well.”
“And they took you. They’re showing some brains. The Catholic Church doesn’t ransom priests – they only protect them if they molest children.”
“Did they molest you?”
“Jesus, woman!” He laughed it off. “Don’t believe everything you read. So where’s Talaca?”
“Talaca is thirty-five miles west of Puerto Claro. I don’t know how long I was unconscious – and my sense of time is still a little rattled, but I think it took around three days. We were climbing steadily – first by car, then by truck, for a little while by animal, and then by jeep. What day is it?”
“You’ve got to be kidding. I don’t even know what year it is.”
Silence, as she digested that information. “How long have you been here?”
“Here? About three months. Before that, about a two day hike to the north. Before that, somewhere down in the rain forest. Or maybe that was the time before.”
“How long since they took you?”
“You don’t want to know.”
A deep intake of breath. “Are they going to keep me as long as they kept you?”
“I doubt it. You’ll either be ransomed or dead long before then.”
“How encouraging. And why are you still alive?”
“They keep me around for comic relief.”
“Yes, you’re a bundle of laughs.”
Damn, he thought in the darkness, moving a little away from her. He liked her. Faced with a terrifying situation, she was neither panicky nor weepy. “I’m also a damned good poker player.”
“Well, that’s something.” Her silhouette shifted in the darkness. They must have tied her up – they’d stop that after a few weeks, once they knew she wouldn’t make a run for it. “At least we’ll have something to do.”
“Sorry, darlin’. I’m not going to be here long enough.”
“You’re being ransomed?”
“I’m getting the fuck out of here. And don’t even think of asking me to take you with me. I travel alone. You’re better off here, waiting for the ransom to be paid. Assuming someone’s got enough money to pay them.”
“There’s enough money,” she said. No begging or pleading, just calm acceptance.
“But you’d better watch Izzy and the new kid. They’ve got orders to keep their hands off you but they’re not real good at following orders.”
“Carlos. That’s the new one’s name. He was one of my students.”
“If you were anything like the nuns who taught me then it’s no wonder he wants to kill you.”
“Carlos never paid any attention to me.”
“That’s what you think. He’s clearly spent many hours thinking about what he’d like to do to you. I take it you don’t understand Spanish. What the hell are you doing in Callivera when you don’t speak the language?”
“I speak Spanish. I just don’t understand the dialect and Carlos’s slang.”
“Yeah, they don’t teach those words in schoolgirl Spanish. Trust me, their plans aren’t particularly pleasant. And once Redbeard leaves you’ll need to watch your back. I expect they’ll think fun with you would be worth more than any ransom your people could come up with.”
“I don’t think so.”