Assumed Identity

10

Buchanan had ordered pasta primavera for both of them. Now, instead of eating, he glanced at his watch, saw that it was ten o’clock, and went to the phone. Before leaving San Antonio, he and Pedro Mendez had chosen a pay phone near where Pedro worked. Buchanan had instructed Pedro to be waiting next to the phone at nine-ten o’clock in Washington. An enemy could not have anticipated that location and eavesdropped on the line when Buchanan called to make certain that there hadn’t been any trouble after the prisoners were released.

Pedro had been told to use English if he was being pressured. To Buchanan’s relief, he used Spanish.

“Any problems?”

“The men followed the agreement,” Pedro said. “When I let them go, they did not harm us.”

Buchanan imagined the courage that Pedro and Anita had required in order to go through with their part of the bargain.

“But I do not think they are far away,” Pedro said. “I have to believe that they are nearby, watching us.”

“I think so, too,” Buchanan said. “I never believed them when they said they’d leave town. Don’t remove the microphones from your house. Do everything as usual. The two things protecting you are that they believe you don’t know anything about your daughter’s whereabouts and that they need you alive and well in case Juana tries to get in touch with you. If they harm you, they’re destroying a potential link with her. Pedro, I need to ask you a question. It might have something to do with Juana, but I want you to think carefully before you let me ask it. Because if it helps explain why Juana disappeared, you’ll be putting yourself in danger. You’ll have exactly the kind of information that whoever’s trying to find Juana needs to know.”

The line was silent for a moment.

“I don’t have a choice,” Pedro said. “If this is about my daughter, if it might help her, I must do my best to answer your question.”

Buchanan’s respect for Pedro kept increasing. “Does the name Maria Tomez mean anything to you? Did Juana ever mention her? Does Maria Tomez have anything to do with-?”

“Of course,” Pedro said. “The singer. I don’t know anything about opera, but I saw her perform. A year ago, she came to San Antonio to sing at HemisFair.” Pedro referred to one of San Antonio’s main attractions. The site of the 1968 world’s fair, it had been converted into a cultural-athletic complex, linked to the city by a canal. “I remember because that was one of the few times Juana told us anything about her work. She was hired to do the security for the performance. In fact, she gave us front-row seats. I didn’t want to go, but Anita made me, and I was surprised that I liked it. I don’t remember the name of the opera. It was about students living in slums. Maria Tomez played somebody who was dying from a disease. The words were in Italian, but Spanish is close enough to Italian that I understood. Maria Tomez sang like an angel. I was stunned. But what does this have to do with Juana and what happened to her? How would an opera singer who came here a year ago. .?”

“I don’t know yet. Listen carefully, Pedro. From time to time, I’ll phone your office to make sure no one’s bothering you. I’ll use the name Ben Clark. Can you remember that? Ben Clark. I’ll ask about a Ford you’re supposed to be repairing. If you tell me it’ll cost a lot of money to fix, I’ll know you’re in trouble, and I’ll get there as soon as I can to help you.”

“. . Ben Clark.”

“Right. Take care, Pedro.”

“Jeff Walker, whoever you are, thank you.”

Exactly, Buchanan thought as he set down the phone. Whoever I am.

When he turned, he saw Holly watching him.

“What’s the matter? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Ben Clark? A Ford? In this room, you’re Charles Duffy. Downstairs, you’re Mike Hamilton. You mentioned something about Peter Lang. That doesn’t include. . How the hell do you keep it all straight?”

“Sometimes I wonder.” To avoid the topic, he sat down and started eating, not realizing how ravenous he was until the first bite of food hit his stomach. During his phone call, the pasta had gotten cold. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t get enough of it.

Holly set down her fork. “You’ve been constantly on the go since you left the hospital.”

Buchanan kept eating, trying to ignore his headache.

“Don’t you think it’s time you slowed down?”

“Can’t. As soon as we finish eating, I’ll get you out of the hotel. Then I have to take a trip.”

“Where?”

“It’s better if you don’t know.”

“You don’t trust me? After I proved I want to help? You said I was on the team.”

“It’s not a matter of trust. What you don’t know won’t hurt you-and it won’t hurt me if. .”

“What you’re trying not to say is if I’m questioned, I can’t give away your next move.”

Buchanan swallowed a piece of bread and stared at her. “The men watching you have nothing to do with what happened to Juana. But if they see us together, they'll assume you’re back on the story about them, and they’ll do everything they can to protect themselves.”

“Now you’ve done it.” Holly shuddered.

“What?”

“Scared me again. Just when I get to feeling normal, you remind me. .”

“Nothing is ever normal.”

“Right. I keep forgetting.”