§ § § - April 25, 1992
Around one o'clock Tabitha made her way to the swimming pool, which at this hour was quite crowded. All the tables were occupied, and there were quite a few people in the pool, some playing water polo. Every stool at the bar was taken, as were all the lounge chairs. Tabitha looked around her and felt herself turning bright red, that old fear popping to life in her stomach. Ever since the discovery of her native village, she lived in fear of change. That first one had been monumental; she had never been able to go back to the place where she had been born, even if she could have found it again.
A native girl bearing a tray full of drinks paused beside her. "Can I help you with anything, miss?" she inquired politely.
Tabitha hesitated. "I—I'm looking for someone," she said, forcing herself to take the plunge. "Can you tell me where Fernando Ordoñez is sitting?"
"Oh, of course. Mr. Ordoñez comes here every day about this time," the girl said and gestured to a small umbrella-shaded table at the corner of the pool farthest from where she and Tabitha now stood. "He arrived just a few minutes ago."
"Thank you," Tabitha said; the girl nodded, smiled and moved on with her tray. Tabitha stood still for a moment, gazing across the pool at the young man identified as her old friend. She recalled the photo Roarke had shown her, tried to compare it with what she saw now, and sighed deeply. I'm too far away to see him properly. Oh, face it, Tabitha Zuma, you're scared. Didn't you tell Leslie you have to learn to get over that? Besides, if he recognizes you, it can only be a good thing. We were friends, after all. She drew in a long, deep breath, counted to ten in Náhuatl, then Spanish, and then English just for good measure, and resolutely made her way across the concrete towards Fernando's table. By the time she'd finished weaving her way through groups of guests, around lounge chairs and over people lying on towels sunbathing, she'd all but forgotten her apprehension. She was close enough now to see Fernando properly, and she was astonished at how much he had changed from the boy she remembered. He was staring out across the pool through a pair of sunglasses so dark they looked opaque, one hand wrapped tightly around the arm of his chair as if to anchor himself to it. Once more she took in a fortifying breath and questioned tentatively, "Fernando?"
He jumped as if someone had poked him in the back and cranked around to stare at her. Neither moved for a moment, though Tabitha knew from the heat in her cheeks that her face was reddening yet again; then Fernando lifted his sunglasses and peered at her more closely, leaning forward in his chair. "Tabitha Zuma?" he exclaimed.
"Yes!" Tabitha blurted, overjoyed.
Fernando squinted at her for a long second; then he scowled heavily. "I don't know what you're doing here, but I think you should leave me alone," he said curtly.
Caught by surprise, she blinked at him. "But I thought we could…"
"Forget it!" Fernando snapped. "Just go away, do you understand?"
Without another word Tabitha, eyes immediately overflowing, turned away and stumbled blindly through the pool area, no longer bothering to watch where she was going. She bumped into more than one person and mumbled garbled excuses, now in Náhuatl, now in English, now in Spanish, till she had escaped and managed to secrete herself in a nearby willow grove. There, sheltered by the long drooping pale-green stems, she cried her heart out. It felt to her as if her last dream had just been shattered beyond recovery.
Fernando Ordoñez settled his sunglasses back into place and surreptitiously watched Tabitha leave till he could no longer see her. He felt like a heel and wanted more than anything else on earth to call her back to him; but he didn't dare. Too many eyes were watching him. If they thought he knew her, she would be in as much danger as he was. Once more he scanned the pool and its perimeter, trying to look bored and sleepy in the tropical heat, but now his mind was on the miraculous reappearance of the refugee Aztec girl he'd never really forgotten. I can't put her in danger, he thought, but I've got to see her, talk to her. Just need to figure out how! Frustrated, he waved the nearest tray-carrying native girl over to his table for a drink. Right now he needed one.
‡ ‡ ‡
"Oh, no…he didn't!" Leslie exclaimed. Tabitha had dropped into the main house late in the afternoon and poured out her anguish to Leslie and Roarke.
"He did," Tabitha confirmed, her eyes filling again. "You were right, Mr. Roarke. I should have listened to you more closely. He's not the same person I remember."
"Perhaps there is only something troubling him," Roarke suggested, "although I will admit that his treatment of you was rather harsh. However, there is undoubtedly more to the story than you know as yet. Remember where you are, Miss Zuma…if you have faith in that, then you must believe there will be a way."
Leslie nodded when Tabitha turned her teary gaze on her. "In the meantime, if you're feeling hungry later on, come here and have supper with us. Mariki always makes more than we can eat anyway, so the kitchen staff eat pretty well." Tabitha snickered despite herself, and Leslie grinned, pleased that her little quip had gotten the desired result. "And Mariki's a terrific cook. So why don't you meet us on the veranda around six or so?"
"I think I'd like that," Tabitha agreed. "All right, I'll be here. Thank you, Leslie…and you too, Mr. Roarke. I haven't been in Amberville in so long…maybe I'll go there and do a little window-shopping."
"Go right ahead," said Leslie. "You'll feel a little better and you can get your mind off things. Something tells me this isn't over yet, so don't give up hope."
Roarke spoke up then. "Leslie, why don't you accompany her? Take one of the rovers and stay for awhile." He saw Leslie's surprised stare and chuckled. "I do have a reason for your going there, yes," he said, withdrawing an envelope from the desk drawer and handing it to her. "Give that to Sheriff Tokita while you're in town."
"I'll do that," Leslie said. "All right, then, we'll be back for dinner."
In the town square, Leslie detoured to the little police station long enough to give Roarke's envelope to the receptionist, Mei-Lian Ching, the same lady who had given Leslie her driver's test and her first license nearly twelve years before. "Thank you," said Mei-Lian, beaming at Leslie. "I haven't seen you in ages. Did Mr. Roarke say what this is about?"
Leslie shook her head. "No idea," she said. "I guess it must be important; he asked that Sheriff Tokita see it."
"In that case, I'll give it to him right now," Mei-Lian said, rising from her chair. "You two have a good evening."
"You too, Mei-Lian," Leslie said and ushered Tabitha out the door ahead of her. Mei-Lian peered at the envelope on her way to the back room, where the sheriff was filling out a couple of reports.
"Sheriff, Leslie Hamilton just dropped this off. She said it's from Mr. Roarke and that you should see it," she told him.
Sheriff Masato Tokita looked up and smiled. "Thank you, Mei-Lian. It sounds a little urgent." He used a letter opener to slice through the flap and withdrew a single sheet of paper. It was a slightly-reduced photocopy of a Wanted poster which bore no fewer than three photos of men with hard, angry faces. They were said to be armed and dangerous. The sheriff sighed gently and shook his head. "Post this in the window," he told the secretary. "I have a feeling this could be very important, especially since it came from Mr. Roarke."
Meantime, Leslie and Tabitha strolled along the storefronts, pausing now and then to examine something in a shop window, chatting as they walked. Out of curiosity, the pair veered into a shop to look at some sundresses, and ran into none other than Myeko, who lit up when she recognized Leslie. "Wow, never expected to see you goofing off on a weekend! What's happening?"
Leslie grinned teasingly at her. "You escaped Toki's manic guard, did you? Where's the little guy?"
"Aw, Toki's just overprotective. You should see how crazy he is about the baby. He's right here," said Myeko cheerfully, gesturing down at the stroller in front of her. "This is Alexander Masato Tokita."
"He's beautiful," Tabitha exclaimed softly, kneeling down to gaze at the tiny, sleeping infant. "How old is he?"
"He'll be a month old tomorrow," Myeko said. "I went into labor about two hours after I saw you in the post office that day, Leslie. It's the first chance I've had to get out of the house and buy stuff that isn't maternity clothes." Both girls laughed. "So…introduce me to your new friend here."
"You might recognize the name," Leslie said. "This is Tabitha Zuma—we all went to high school with her. Tabitha, you'll remember Myeko Sensei. She's married to Michiko Tokita's brother."
Tabitha rose and nodded, blushing deeply. "Hello, Myeko. I know I'm a few years late, but I wanted to thank you for the Halloween-party invitation."
Myeko peered blankly at her, and Leslie filled her in. "Remember our senior year when I asked you to invite someone who didn't seem to get many invitations?"
"Oh…oh!" Myeko brightened with the memory. "Well gosh, why didn't you come up and say hi or something? I remember Michiko telling us you were in the choir. It's nice to finally meet you after all this time. Holy cow, that was almost ten years ago."
"I know," Tabitha said, still vividly red-faced. "I always wanted to, but…"
"It's okay, don't worry about it," Myeko said. "You did come to the party…didn't you?" She winked, and they all laughed.
"That's the one the Ordoñez kid saw at the pool," muttered a voice just outside the window. Three figures, casually dressed in shorts and mesh tank tops, loitered in front of the shop pretending to be staring at the window display, while actually watching the three young women inside. The one in the red shorts and navy-blue tank slanted a quick glance up at Tabitha Zuma. "The girl in the yellow sundress. Think they know each other?"
"What'd he do when he saw her?" asked the man in white shorts and black tank.
"Looked like he recognized her at first, then he told her to go away or something, 'cause she left a couple seconds later. But if they do know each other, he mighta stashed it with her."
The man in a green tank and yellow shorts shook his head. "Doubtful. From his initial reaction to her, they hadn't seen each other in a long time."
"You think it's worth pursuin', Cal?" asked the first man.
The man in black and white considered it, then shook his head slowly. "Not right now. But keep an eye on her, Larry. She might turn out to be useful later."
The first man nodded. "Gotcha, chief."
"What are we to do?" asked the third man in an accent that sounded somewhat British, somewhat Australian.
"Keep tailing Ordoñez, of course," said the second man. "Since his old man checked out, he's the one who owes us now. So don't let him too far outta your sight."