Cave of Little Faces. Aída Besançon Spencer

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СКАЧАТЬ lawyer paused, said, “Well,” and then “well,” again, and became very serious. He hunched his shoulders and nodded to Jo, deeply deferentially, with the air of one who is dreading the answer he fears he will receive. “May I ask, please, did he meet you at the airport in Santo Domingo?” It was clear by his intonation the “he” was in reference to their missing guest.

      “No one met us,” said Jo, “and we did wonder about that.” And then she added, as her first attempt to clear up some of the mystery of that whole fiasco, “No one did. And my father—you know my father, of course?”

      The lawyer nodded an obvious, unspoken assent.

      “Well, he gave me a message about picking us up himself or sending someone who would say, ‘Baiguanex has sent me for you.’ You must know that is my father’s Taino name. But, no one came saying that or anything else. So we rented a car—on my credit card, I might add—and we drove here. Are we speaking of the one who was supposed to meet us? He must be very busy, indeed, neither to come as promised nor meet with us today. Is his presence so imperative that he must be here for us to meet? And, who is he exactly? Do I know him?” Jo looked again from one to another, searching all their faces. But they were all impassive now as only the heirs of the First Nations can be impassive.

      “Not imperative,” said Don Ramón, “but his presence would have been very helpful.”

      “And,” added Doña Lucia, “well mannered.”

      “Yes, both,” agreed Don Ramón.

      “His assistance is going to be necessary for you to see your inheritance,” said the lawyer carefully. “It will be very difficult without his cooperation.”

      “Not impossible,” said Doña Lucia.

      “No, not impossible, of course,” agreed the lawyer, “but very inconvenient.”

      “Inconvenient?” echoed Jo. “What is this ‘mountain’ you spoke of Don Ramón? Something on his property—is that it?”

      “No, no, Josefina. He is simply a guardian.”

      “A guardian?”

      “Yes,” said Doña Lucia, “one of many, but very important. He should be cooperating with us. This is very disturbing.”

      “I’m sorry,” said Jo, “but I’m not making head or tail of all this. I have an inheritance, but it is not here. It is elsewhere. I have lost an uncle, but I have heard nothing about his funeral. I have two parents who are missing, but they are somewhere, though not here. Honestly, I am a bit sick today and perhaps my patience is not where it should be, but I’m feeling a bit like my sister Ruby. I would like to know—with all due respect, and I mean that sincerely—what on earth is this all about?”

      Whether they would have answered her or not Jo often wondered afterward. But none of them had a chance if they had been so disposed, because at the very moment she had ceased putting her questions to them, a young man hurried around the side of the house, dashed up to them deferentially, and paused, waiting to speak. Jo recognized Ernesto, the Romeros’ youngest child.

      “What is it, son?” asked Don Ramón in surprise.

      But, before the young man could reply, around the same corner strode a tall, and somewhat imposing man just over Jo’s age, dressed in a gray sports jacket and black designer slacks. He had wavy black hair and a broad smile. He surveyed the entire back yard with approval, spending a moment gazing at the sea and what he could see of the beach behind the back fence. “Very nice,” he murmured in Castilian Spanish. “Yes, very nice indeed.” He framed his hands as if he were setting up a camera shot, swept them across the vista, and then with a satisfied grin turned toward the porch, and nodded at the gathering there, who were staring back at him, baffled. Then he turned around and spoke to someone just out of sight, “I’d like to see the house now.”

      To Jo’s shock, around the corner came her sister Daniela and her brother Ben, obviously, eagerly awaiting some sort of response and then directions from him.

      “Right this way,” said Daniela and began mounting the steps at the far end of the porch.

      12

      What was now a “public awakening,” so as to say, for Jo and the private gathering on the porch at Las Olas had actually begun at the Bravado Beach Hotel early that morning.

      Star and Basil had dawned in a state of excitement laced with caution. “We’ve got a couple of live ones here, but we gotta be careful,” warned Star—the first words out of her mouth as she stretched and popped her eyes open.

      “Yeah,” agreed Basil, peering out through the beach hotel’s mahogany-stained windows at another perfect Caribbean day. “This guy Ismael is all full of himself. He acts like he owns the whole place already. Five centuries ago he woulda been lethal.”

      “He might be now, if we cross him,” yawned Star, propping herself up.

      “Right, I can see that. He could also do us in and grab the whole shebang out from under us.”

      “Yeah, he’s like one of those mechanical bulls they got. It’s a wild ride, if you don’t get bumped off.”

      “Don’t use terms like ‘bumped off,’” Basil shuddered.

      “Well, how do you like this one, then?” asked Star as she swung her legs out of bed. “This fire’s hot, we better strike!”

      “Exactly,” said Basil. “We gotta get a move on and get this guy looking at beachfront possibilities today around that Lake Rincon. As soon as you get dressed, let’s call his room and get a field trip going.”

      “Right—that’s the ticket!”

      But ringing Ismael Balenzuela’s room proved as fruitless as banging on his door, which they did next. Neither did a third degree on the front desk clerks turn up anything helpful. “No, Señor Balenzuela did not leave or leave a key while I was on duty,” was all the first clerk could offer. “Perhaps the night staff would know, but they have all gone to their homes.” The other clerk just shook her head “yes.”

      Basil scowled and looked to Star for answers, “Now what?”

      “What,” of course, was already in progress at Las Olas del Sol. “Dawn” for Basil and Star was hardly “dawn” for anybody else except Ben, and long before eleven o’clock Balenzuela had risen up, spruced up, breakfasted up, geared up, and glinted up, and had already shot off his first sally of the day, a broadside of charm fired just up the beach at Los Diamantes del Mar Hotel, a dazzling fireworks display targeted to wow Daniela and anyone else that might be of value. Ruby, however, was out running eight miles of deserted beach and Ben was still sacked out, so Danny got it all full force.

      “Lovely lady,” he had begun, when he recognized her on a lounge chair next to the pool, already stretched out in a chic bikini, working on her tan. “I could not let a day slip away before I found you again. You made such an impression on me last night.” His teeth glistened in the early morning sun.

      “How did you find me?” puzzled Daniela, squinting at him sideways behind her large, round, designer sunglasses.

      “I called every СКАЧАТЬ