Page 50 of Fear No Evil

To her relief, a small smile hovered on his handsome lips. “You’ve said those words to me before.”

The fact that he replied in French reassured her he was lucid enough to cling to his cover. His words summoned a crisp memory, causing her to drop her hands and straighten away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Since Jake was better off than he looked, she would tend to herself first. “I’m going in.” Dropping onto a big rock nearby, she plucked at the laces of her boots, unable to get them off fast enough.

“You said you would marry me.”

“What?” She pretended not to remember, even as the memory of Jake lying in the rubble with ash in his hair filled her mind.

“It was right after the bomb went off in Paris. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, but I heard you. You promised to marry me one day.”

Jake’s remark drew her astonished gaze to his. He had heard her say all that? She hauled off her boots and shot to her feet, struggling to speak French and not English. “We’d just survived a bombing, Jacques! You were cut and bleeding, with glass all over you. I thought you were going to die on me. What was I supposed to say?”

The hurt that darkened his eyes made her want to take back the words because, of course, her words had meantsomething. But marriage?

Whirling away, she marched stoically into the water in her socks, welcoming the frigid shock as it climbed up her thighs, permeating her clothing. Careful not to dive in headfirst, she waded in until the water reached her waistline, then submerged herself, letting out all the air in her lungs to sit on the rocky bottom.

Why would Jake even bring up marriage when their jobs made that impossible? After this assignment, they might never even see each other again, let alone work together.

But what if there was a way? For the briefest moment, she imagined a future in which they remained together, and hope clawed at her heart.

Stop.With a return to reality, she banished the vision. Most case officers never married until they were retired. Their assignments took them to places that weren’t always safe. Only a few, like Mike Howitz, tried to bring their families with them, and look what had happened to him? It would have been better for everyone if he’d never married.

Oh, Mike. I’m so sorry you died so far from home. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.

Maggie wept underwater. If only its chilly current would carry away the ball of pain that filled her chest. Her lungs burned with a need for air.

By the time she breached the surface, Jake was kneeling at the edge of a flat rock, bathing his neck while keeping a sharp eye out for her.

At the sound of a rock clattering near the waterfall, they both whirled, astonished to see a middle-aged Caucasian male edging out from under the cascade. He boasted a mane of light-brown hair and a beard and wore plastic-framed spectacles and a cleric’s collar over his blue shirt. Given the only thing he carried was a satchel and a walking stick, Maggie remained calm. The man was clearly no threat.

Sending them a wave, he continued to pick his way along a granite shelf while Jake clambered to his feet. “Peace be with you both,” he called, heading toward them with youthful energy and a friendly smile. “You must be with the United Nations group. I’m Father Joshua.” He held out a hand to Jake as he marched toward them. “My goodness. What got to you?”

“Ah, beeg bugs.” Jake spoke English with his heavy French accent. “But where did you come from? You were hiding behind ze falls?”

“No, no, from the other side. I waved at you, but you didn’t see me.”

“Other side?”

The cleric pointed. “Yes, look just beside the cliff face, there. Can you see the trail now? It’s a little treacherous skirting the waterfall but refreshing when you stand behind it.”

Maggie’s pulse quickened as she spotted the indicated path. Perhaps it went to the unnamed camp at the top of the mountain!

“What are your names?” Father Joshua’s eyes glinted with curiosity.

Jake helped Maggie out of the water before introducing them. “My name is Jacques. And this is my wife, Lena. I believe we heard you on the radio the other day.”

The missionary beamed. “Oh, good! The FARC are listening to my broadcasts, then. There’s a radio station at the top of this mountain. That’s where I’ve just come from. A pleasure to meet you both.”

With water streaming from her hair and clothing, Maggie withheld her ability to speak English while taking note of how to get to the radio station.

“Are you two out here alone?” Unlatching the canteen from his belt, Father Joshua knelt upon the same rock Jake had knelt on earlier to fill it.

“Non.”Jake gestured toward the trees. “A rebel named David is going to look for something for these, uh, how do you say?” He pointed to his swollen face.

“Welts.” The priest filled his bottle and stood. He studied them while screwing the lid on his canteen. “How are negotiations going for the release of the hostages?”

So, he knew about that. This man could prove a valuable informant. The opportunity to question him quickened Maggie’s pulse. Seeing no sign of David, she stepped closer, pitched her voice low, and answered in English, “Not so good. One of the hostages is dead.”

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