Tall, Dark and Deadly Page 17

  Alex interrupted. “No time for speeches, Mac. We’re moving on.”

  “Surely, you have time for a cuppa tea.” He swung his pack to the ground and reached inside. “Yes, mate, I have the tea, and a bit of whiskey to make it palatable.”

  “Alex, please, I’d love some tea,” Dana pleaded. “And maybe your friend can help us.”

  “Maybe I can. Just maybe,” Mac said as he built up the fire, adding twigs and boiling the water.

  “My friend has helped us enough,” Alex snapped. “He was the one who told Kantana we escaped upriver.”

  Mac looked up, squinting into the sun. “That was before I knew the problem. If you’d told me you were on the run, I would’ve lied for you.”

  Alex didn’t believe that, but he kept quiet, waiting and wondering. Maybe it was time to give Mac a little leeway and find out what kind of game he was playing.

  “And if I’d met the lass, why, the good Lord knows what lengths I would’ve gone to in order to protect the two of you. Anyone with eyes in his head can see at first glance that the lady isn’t capable of committing murder.”

  Dana smiled gratefully at Mac and then scowled at Alex, who forced himself to hold off before chasing the damned Irishman away. While he tried to be patient, he couldn’t help being irritated that she seemed taken with Mac.

  “What’s your last name, my lass?” Mac asked.

  “Baldwin,” Dana answered, accepting a cup of strong tea but refusing the whiskey.

  “Ah, yes. Baldwin. I know that name. More than thirty years ago, I took a man called Baldwin into the rain forest....”

  So that was it, Alex thought. He figured Mac had something up his sleeve. Now he knew what it was. The Irishman had done a little research and made a surprise discovery, which he was going to milk for all it was worth. Alex watched him ingratiate himself to Dana.

  Mac’s revelation had left her speechless, giving the Irishman a chance to inquire, “Could that man have been your father?”

  Alex rolled his eyes heavenward as Dana answered, “Yes, oh, yes! I’d love to talk to you about my father and the trip. I have all his notes, but—”

  That was enough, Alex decided. “Maybe Mac can write you a letter about it, Dana, but now we don’t have time. We’re running late as it is.”

  While Dana seethed, Mac took the pot off the fire and said to Alex, “Maybe you have more time than you think. Kantana’s not on your trail.” He offered Alex a cup of tea, and the refusal didn’t seem to bother the Irishman, who poured a cup for himself and added a little whiskey.

  “What are you talking about, Mac?”

  “Seems the little lady here dislocated Kantana’s shoulder during what I hear was quite a tussle. He had to go downriver to have it set, and no one in Port Ivoire is organized enough to set up a search party,” Mac added with a chuckle.

  “Then we can relax a little,” Dana said, “and you can tell me about your time with my father.”

  “Sure, I’d like to do that—”

  “No,” Alex said definitely. “We’re not slowing down.” They had a rendezvous across the border, and they had to get there within the agreed time frame to meet the plane. The clock was ticking.

  Mac’s eyes had a foxy, curious look. “You’re meeting someone, perhaps?”

  Alex frowned at Dana, warning her to keep quiet. “My mission is to get the lady safely out of the Congo. Even though you’re right about one thing, that Dana is innocent of murder, Jean Luc doesn’t know that. Besides, she broke out of jail and assaulted an officer.” He ignored Dana’s look of contempt at his lie. “You found us easily. Others could do the same. So we’re moving on.”

  Alex kicked dirt over the fire, from which Mac barely retrieved his teapot in time.

  Mac kept his smile intact as he responded to Alex. “Sure I found you, but it wasn’t that easy, my mate. I came upriver looking for the Pygmy...”

  Alex paid no attention to Mac as he quickly took down the tent and motioned for Dana to gather their supplies, which she did grudgingly.

  Mac packed up his canteen and teapot without losing a beat in his story. “I thought the Mgembe might have some ivory we could negotiate on. Then I found your tracks heading for the swamp. I thought maybe I should come on along and warn you.”

  “Warn us?” Dana stopped packing and looked up at him. “What more could there be? We’ve encountered crocs and hippos and snakes, we’ve heard about the monster that the Pygmies are so afraid of...what more should we be worried about in this hellhole?”

  “Quicksand. Lots of it when you get nearer the river, and I’m guessing you plan to ford Bonsuko River to get across the border.”

  “Quicksand?” Dana turned to Alex. “Did you know about that?”

  He shouldered his pack. “It’s marked on my map. Now let’s get going.”

  “It might be on your map, my pal, but I have it here, in my head,” the Irishman said, giving the side of his brow a pat. “I can lead you right through the sand like a leprechaun through the Irish bogs.”

  “The question is, why the hell would you do that for us, McQuire?” Alex cut in coldly, worried that he knew the reason—Mac had heard about the Elephant d’Or.

  “Why, you ask? I answer, why not?” Mac’s reply was affable. “Life along the Lomami can be dull, but escorting a lady, especially one who is fleeing a charge of murder—” He smiled widely at Dana and made a low, courtly bow. “Not that I believe it. Let’s just say that it would be an honor to guide you through the swamp. Your father was one of the first to hire me when I started my business, and Mac McQuire never forgets a favor.”

  Mac’s words were said on the run as he hurried after Alex, already on the trail and pulling Dana along with him.

  * * *

  ALEX WAS A PAIN all day and well into the night, as far as Dana was concerned, never taking his eyes off Mac. He didn’t even seemed impressed, and certainly wasn’t grateful, that Mac had pointed out the quicksand bogs and cleverly helped them avoid trouble.

  But Dana was pleased to have his company. And what really intrigued her was that Mac remembered her father so well. Their talk over dinner at the campfire had been revealing, nostalgic and insightful. It brought back wonderful memories. And Mac seemed just as interested in the Mgembe as she, and much more knowledgeable. All that was in his favor.

  Then why did Alex mistrust the man? Why did he stay awake long after Mac began snoring away by the campfire? Alex didn’t trust him; she didn’t trust Alex.

  Dana tried to put that doubt out of her head as she drifted off to sleep. But when she woke suddenly, an hour or so later, Alex was more alert than ever.

  “Alex—”

  “Quiet,” he ordered. “Mac is moving around out there, and I’m not going to sleep until I’m sure that he’s no longer a threat.”

  “He seems all right to me.”

  “He’s a stranger, Dana. You don’t know him.”

  But I know you, she thought. Aloud she said sharply, “I’m too tired to argue. Stay up and watch him all night if you want to.” She rolled over in her sleeping bag, deliberately turning her back on him.

  An hour before dawn, she opened her eyes to find the jungle quiet and Alex asleep beside her. She had an overwhelming urge to take charge of her own destiny.

  Dana didn’t share Alex’s suspicions of Mac, who was nothing more than a professional guide. And the fact that he had taken her father through the jungle, that gave them a special bond. From what she’d seen of Mac the day before, he was a hell of a good guide. She had confidence that he could get her across the border into Zaire. With Alex, she still didn’t know what to expect.

  She reached for her shoes. She could wake Mac and bribe him to take her across the border. Then what? She considered her predicament. Mac was a risk, but with him she’d be free—and free of her entanglement with Alex. Wasn’t that what she wanted?

  As if in answer to her question, she pushed back the flap and slipped into the warm Congo air.

&
nbsp; Dana walked a few yards into the brush where she’d created her bathroom, and afterward returned to the camp slowly, quietly, being careful not to disturb any sleeping creatures. She’d seen enough of the jungle’s dangers to last her a lifetime.

  While she was considering what to do about Mac, she realized that he’d made the decision for her. Ahead, near the campfire, she saw a movement, a shadowy figure that could only be the guide. She smiled and moved toward him. Now she could feel him out, discover how he really felt about Alex and find out if he’d be interested in taking her across the border. Alone.

  Dana walked toward him, her footsteps muffled on the sandy soil. Then she saw what he was doing. Alex had left a pack out in the open near the fire, and Mac was methodically rifling through it!

  She turned away, hoping to get to the tent before he saw her. But it was too late. One long stride and he was beside her, the blade of his knife gleaming sharply in the moonlight. His fingers wrapped around her upper arm like a vise. She didn’t have a chance to scream before he pressed the knife against her neck.

  “I was hoping to find it and get the hell out.”

  “The elephant,” she said sadly. Nothing could surprise her now.

  “Right-o, my lassie. The golden elephant.” He tossed the pack aside. “I should have known Alex would set a trap, leaving this pack out in the open. But I had to look.”

  Dana felt her legs go weak, her head spin. There was no one to trust now.

  He didn’t let her fall. “Don’t you go fainting on me. You’re the one I’m counting on to tell me where the elephant’s hidden.”

  Dana felt the cold, sharp edge of the knife against her skin. She was paralyzed with fear, fear of this man who had been so kind to her, who had been her father’s guide and seemingly his friend, and now Mac was her captor. She had nowhere to turn.

  “Where is it?” he insisted.

  “I’ve only seen the elephant once. I don’t know where it is now.”

  Mac slid the knife along her neck to her chin. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you? You and Alex look pretty cozy sharing that tent.”

  “A tent is all we share, not a bed. And I’m not lying. I wish you’d found the damned elephant. I wish it was a thousand miles from here. Let me go. Please.” But if he released her what would she do—run into the swamp, or go back to Alex? All the possibilities seemed hopeless to her. “I don’t know where it is,” she repeated in a strained voice.

  Mac sighed deeply. “Then it looks like Alex is going to have to tell me.” He tightened his grip on Dana and called out in a booming voice, “Jourdan, get out here. I’ve got your woman!”

  Dana saw Alex before Mac did. He was already out of the tent, in the shadows, his gun leveled at the Irishman. When Mac spotted him, he whirled around, keeping his hold on Dana. “Don’t shoot,” he called out as Alex tried to get a fix on him with the gun, “or you’ll hit the woman.”

  Alex froze, the weapon still in his hand.

  “Drop it,” Mac cried. When Alex didn’t comply, he grabbed Dana by her hair and pulled her head back. Then with the razor-sharp point of the knife he nicked the soft flesh under her chin.

  She felt a stab of pain and cried out, but Mac just held her tighter.

  “I could kill her in an instant,” he called to Alex, “but I might not. Maybe I’ll just scar up this pretty face a bit.”

  Dana moaned. She felt the warm blood drip down her neck. The instant of pain had passed, leaving only a numbing fear. She wanted to call to Alex, beg him to do as Mac ordered, but she couldn’t find her voice, and Alex still held the gun pointed at them. A horrible sensation swept over her, and for a long moment she thought he was going to shoot, kill them both. What did he care? He had the elephant.

  Dana held her breath, waiting for Alex to make up his mind whether to shoot them or drop the gun.

  “You have three seconds, pal,” Mac said. “One—”

  Alex lowered the gun.

  “Good man. Now drop it.”

  Alex let the gun slide from his fingers to the soft bed of the jungle floor, and Dana breathed again.

  “Now let Dana go,” Alex said. “She’s the innocent in all this, Mac. She knows nothing.”

  Mac’s laughter rumbled low in his chest. “No one involved with you is ever innocent, pal. Now tell me where the elephant is—or your lovely lady friend will be minus a nose.” Mac slid the flat side of his knife along her chin, and Dana gave a barely audible moan.

  “It’s about a mile from here, into the swamp.”

  “And just how did it get there?” The knife turned slightly in his hand, its blade creasing her cheek.

  “I knew you were after it, so I hid it last night. I’ll take you there,” Alex offered, “but first tell me how you figure in this.”

  “I was hired,” Mac offered in a friendly voice.

  “I’m not very patient this morning,” Alex said. “So let’s get to the point. Who hired you?”

  “An old friend of yours, Maurice Longongo.”

  Alex let out a quick breath. “The son of a bitch.”

  Dana finally had the courage to speak. “You always suspected him, Alex.”

  Alex nodded. “He was at the party, he knew the elephant was missing and he followed Louis—”

  “And murdered him,” Dana said, feeling a sudden relief that it wasn’t Alex after all.

  “And when he realized that you and I had the elephant—”

  This time Mac completed Alex’s thought. “He hired me to come after you. Longongo is out there, too, somewhere in the bush with his porters and bearers. Traveling in style.”

  Alex frowned. “Civil servants don’t make that kind of money.”

  Mac lowered his knife and relaxed his hold on Dana without letting her go. “The Egyptian is bankrolling him. You must know that a man that ruthless wouldn’t let his prize go so easily.”

  Alex smiled ruefully. “Obviously, I’m not as good at this cat-and-mouse game as I thought.”

  “Which is why I’m taking over. The sun will be up in a few minutes. I want the elephant. Now.”

  Dana drew a long breath of relief. Everything was going to work out. Alex would give Mac the elephant, Mac would get the hell away from them and they could continue on their journey—unless Alex decided to get the elephant back.

  The cat-and-mouse game could go on forever, but Dana didn’t want to worry about that now, especially when she knew at last that Alex wasn’t a killer. It had been Longongo all along. Something good had come of this part of their journey. They’d learned the truth.

  But Alex hadn’t moved. Dana groaned inwardly when she saw his adamant stance. Her nerves were so tightly strung that at any second she felt she might snap. Why was Alex delaying like this? Each minute was a torturous hour for her.

  “Let’s go, Jourdan,” Mac ordered.

  “Just one question,” Alex said. “After I give you the elephant, what’s stopping you from killing us and heading for the border on your own, forgetting about Longongo and the Egyptian?”

  “The Egyptian has long arms, mate.”

  “And the elephant is worth a small fortune,” Alex replied.

  “Now don’t be putting ideas in my head. I’m just a simple guide, doing what I’m paid to do.”

  At that moment Dana knew that Mac was going to kill them, as surely as if he’d said the words. It was in the coldness of his voice, his total lack of humanity.

  Somehow, she realized that Alex had wanted her to know. But why, just so she could suffer even more? That wasn’t possible and—she knew now—it wasn’t like Alex. There was another reason, if she could just discover what it was! Confusion mixed with fear inside of Dana. She didn’t know how much more she could stand.

  * * *

  THEY PACKED UP and headed into the bowels of the swamp. Dana felt as if they were treading on dynamite. Every step Alex took was measured and careful, and Mac and Dana followed tentatively in his footsteps as he moved from hummock to hummock, test
ing each section of firm ground before making another move. All around them the quicksand bogs lay steaming in the sun, their shining surfaces innocent looking, belying the sinister depths below where one misstep could mean an agonizing death.

  The air was hot and still. Unrelenting mosquitoes and huge flies buzzed hungrily around their faces. Dana dared not move her hand to slap them away for fear the movement might cause Mac to respond violently. Perspiration ran down her face and puddled between her breasts. She wanted to scream and run in terror; instead she stayed by Mac’s side as they inched along behind Alex.

  She saw his foot slip into the powerful, sucking sand and almost called out. But Alex caught himself and braced against a tree to keep from tumbling off the trail into the quicksand. Still, it took a powerful effort to pull his leg out.

  There was fear in Mac’s voice as he lashed out at Alex. “Where the hell are you taking us? Even I don’t know this part of the swamp. If you’re planning some kind of trick—”

  “I didn’t slip on purpose, Mac, believe me,” Alex said as he found solid footing and wiped his sweating face with his forearm. “This place can trick a man. I thought I remembered the tree that was my landmark, but—”

  “You damn well better remember,” Mac growled.

  Alex narrowed his eyes against the sun. “I see it—that dead tree ahead that looks like a skeleton’s arm. Not much farther.”

  He set out confidently, much too sure, Dana thought as she picked her way carefully behind, trying to keep in his footsteps. Mac was pushing her on, but she refused to be hurried when death lay just a few feet away on either side of the trail.

  “Get a move on, woman,” Mac said.

  But Dana could only creep along at a snail’s pace, fearful of a misstep.

  “Faster,” Mac insisted. “He’s getting too far ahead.”

  Alex was widening the gap between them when Dana heard his cry and saw him sliding feet first into the shimmering bog.

  “Oh, my God! Alex!” She began to run, stumbling toward him, forgetful of the dangerous sands all around, forgetful of Mac, who forged after her, cursing.