Peter's Return. Cynthia Cooke

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СКАЧАТЬ he come looking for her? Would he care? The realization that she couldn’t be sure brought little comfort, only the familiar squeeze of regret. His job, his mission, whatever it was he was working on always came before she did.

      “Look!” Robert whispered, interrupting the well-worn path her thoughts were taking.

      Emily sat up straighter as glimpses of a large stucco wall came into view. They turned at a bend in the road then stopped before a tall iron gate. The driver nodded to the guard sitting in a booth and the gate swung open. Emily couldn’t help but be riveted by the grounds inside the gates.

      The parklike setting of benches and statues placed strategically beneath cascading trees surrounding a large duck-laden pond caught her breath. Tucked among the trees were several shrubs trimmed in various animal shapes. Flowers in every shape and size greeted them in a riot of color.

      Here and there, she spotted the clay tile roofs of several small out-buildings. She tried to focus through the thick foliage, to get her bearings on the bungalows and see what their use was, but she could only catch scattered glimpses before they disappeared into the jungle. A golf cart passed, but instead of laughing tourists enjoying the eighteenth hole, two guards in tan uniforms with rifles slung over their shoulders watched the Suburban, giving their driver a slight nod as they passed.

      They turned right onto a cobblestone road and slowly approached a breathtaking Spanish colonial mansion. Emily leaned into Robert and whispered, “I don’t think my checkbook is going to get us out of this one.”

      “Neither do I,” he agreed, and a grim look of futility filled his face. She squeezed his hand as they followed the drive around back and parked in front of a garage larger than the elementary school on the corner of Emily’s block back in Colorado Springs. In front of the garage, a series of golf carts were parked next to a bright red Porsche.

      “Pinch me, Robert. I think we’ve just been transported into a Fantasy Island rerun,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

      “Shh, be serious and be quiet. Let me do all the talking.”

      “Gladly,” she whispered. “And as soon as you get us out of this, I’ll try not to remind you how sexist you are being.”

      “Deal,” he grumbled. They watched the driver get out and open their door. “Just where are we?” Robert demanded with more bravado than Emily knew he felt.

      “You are the guests of Mr. Escalante,” the driver said, then stepped back and waited for them to get out of the car.

      Robert stood, but didn’t move out of the doorway, effectively blocking her exit. She pushed up on her knees and peeked around him. “I demand you take us to the Doctors Without Borders clinic,” he insisted.

      The driver tilted his chin down and gave Robert a bone-chilling stare. He gestured toward the mansion. “I suggest you cooperate. It will make your stay here a little more pleasant for all of us, if you do.” He stepped around Robert and held out his hand. “Dr. Armstrong.”

      Robert stepped aside. Without taking the driver’s hand, Emily got out of the car. There was something dark and dangerous and almost slithering in the man’s eyes. He looked like a man who wouldn’t give a second’s hesitation to killing them right there on the spot. This was not someone she wanted to touch.

      The driver nodded, seeming to accept her slight and said, “Follow me.”

      Robert started forward and Emily followed close behind. “What do you think they want from us?” she said, leaning forward and whispering in his ear.

      “I don’t know,” he said over his shoulder, “but whatever it is, cooperate.”

      “Of course I’ll cooperate,” she muttered. What made him think she wouldn’t cooperate? As they walked through the lush grounds, Emily wondered if they could make a run for it. And if they did, how far would they get?

      “Mr. Escalante’s compound encompasses over two hundred acres,” the driver said as they walked. “At all times, there are guards patrolling every inch of the estate in case you should ever need help.”

      That answered her question.

      He gestured beyond the garages. “Through those trees is the tennis court and swimming pool. There is also a hot tub should you feel the desire to relax your muscles after your long journey.”

      Somehow she didn’t think a hot tub would do the trick. As they walked, Emily tried not to be awed by the beauty of the plants, the orchids and the blooming vines hanging from trees. She sucked in a breath as she caught a glimpse of a red, blue and green macaw unlike any she’d ever seen. “It’s the Garden of Eden,” she muttered.

      “Yeah,” Robert agreed. “But watch out for snakes.”

      The driver turned back and looked at them. The dead emptiness in his eyes curled her toes. “I hate snakes,” she whispered, and tried to smother the prickling sensation moving through her.

      The man led them into a walled-in, shaded courtyard complete with a mosaic of Spanish tiles and a large fountain. Robert stopped next to an intricate wrought-iron table. “Why have you brought us here?” he demanded, and refused to take another step.

      The driver kept walking.

      Emily threw Robert a pointed look. “What should we call you?” she asked in her most pleasant and professional voice that barely hid the anxiety squeezing her throat.

      The man halted and turned back, his cold, predatory gaze stopping her in her tracks. “Snake.”

      Emily swallowed. She should have known. She tried to speak, but couldn’t. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

      He turned away, breaking the contact. Emily was so relieved she followed him without hesitation through the French doors and into a room filled with plush leather sofas and chairs facing a big-screen TV.

      “All the luxuries of home,” Robert muttered.

      Snake stood in the center of the room. “This is where you’ll stay.” He pointed into another room holding a massive mahogany table. “There is a kitchen for your use through there. Mr. Escalante’s chef prepares a meal each evening at six. If he wants you to join him, you will. If not, you may have the meal delivered here by informing Esteban.”

      “Esteban?” Emily squeaked, finally finding her voice.

      A muffled cough sounded behind her. Emily turned. A small dark-haired man bowed his head to her and Robert.

      “Anything you need, just ask Esteban. He is here to serve you,” Snake said, then turned from the room and headed down the hall.

      “At least he’s not named after a predator,” Emily muttered.

      Robert frowned. “Be good.”

      She smirked and followed Snake down the hall. He opened doors off the main corridor that they passed—the kitchen, a bedroom for Robert, one for her—and still they continued down the hall. Fear and irritation twisted inside her, tightening her muscles and making her tense. She didn’t like being kept in the dark, and she certainly didn’t like being told what to do. They reached a massive wooden door.

      “This will СКАЧАТЬ