Page 27 of Dangerous Liaisons

Chapter Nineteen

Jesse snapped a photo of a giant fern growing at the edge of a manmade pond in Bogota’s Botanical Garden’s Criptogamio section. Like a typical tourist, she refocused the compact digital camera for a close-up of a fiddlehead when footsteps slowed behind her. She turned and saw Juanita Pinto approach.

Juanita’s perfect Mediterranean features were accented with wavy, jet black hair and eyes so dark brown they looked black from a distance. In three-inch heels, she stood an inch taller than Jesse’s five eight, and her neat caramel-colored Versachi pantsuit, white camisole, and matching wide-brimmed hat made Jesse feel like the tourist she was pretending to be. Juanita had been a runner up in the Miss Universe pageant. Fortunately, she didn’t mind using her God-given talents to further the Spanish government’s cause. Jesse pocketed the camera as Juanita stopped in front of her.

“Jesse Evans.” With a manicured index finger, Juanita slid her sunglasses lower on her nose and peered over the rim. “How long has it been?” Her impeccable English held only a faint Spanish accent.

Jesse forced a bright smile. Now wasn’t the time to remind Juanita Jesse had a photographic memory and wasn’t likely to forget their last encounter during the Madrid operation, when Juanita had comprised Spain’s agent contingent and observer—and spied on The Professor. Juanita had never mentioned the disc being missing from her purse, but Jesse figured she knew it was Jesse who had taken it.

“Three years, I think.” Jesse embraced her, exchanged kisses on both cheeks, then pulled back. “How’s work at the Consulate these days?”

Juanita dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. “Too much to do and not enough resources to do it. You know, the same old story: diplomatic courier and all around expert on all things secret.”

Yeah, Jesse thought. The Spanish had a miniscule but effective Secret Service thanks to people like Juanita. “I’m glad you could spare time for an old friend,” she said.

The corners of Juanita’s mouth curved upward. “I hear you’ve been…shall we say…busy lately?”

A vulgar flash of hot pink appeared amongst the dark green ferns to Jesse’s right and she glanced at the only other people around. She winced inwardly at sight of the gaudy Hawaiian style shirt worn by one of the men in the group of four tourists. She had seen the same tourists the two dozen times she had checked for anyone following her, and couldn’t help wondering if they were Feds. Only Feds would be stupid enough to dress so garishly in an attempt to blend in.

Jesse linked arms with Juanita. “Let’s walk.” She headed toward the greenhouse that dominated the center of the gardens. “I need help.”

Juanita erupted in the imitation Mata Hari laugh she used to lighten the mood in female company. “You need a miracle, girl. You know there’s an Interpol watch for you?”

A sinking feeling hit Jesse’s gut. Interpol meant her picture had hit all world law enforcement agencies. The whole world now believed Jesse Evans had turned. Getting around Lanton would be tough, but she’d told herself she could do it. Getting to and hiding Amanda from the entire Western European law enforcement system was another story. Jesse glanced at Juanita’s brown arm linked with hers. Why had Juanita agreed to meet?

“I hear Lanton wants your skin alive,” Juanita said.

Jesse jerked her gaze onto Juanita’s face. Given the deep black of Green Team, even the mention of Lanton’s name by someone outside OIA indicated a serious breach of security. Why wasn’t she surprised? She and Juanita had played major roles in the Madrid operation. What were the odds Lanton had facilitated Juanita’s access to classified information on Tom’s computer? Damn good. Chock up another notch in Lanton’s poison pen.

Jesse considered what she could offer in return for the tidbits of information Juanita had just thrown her. The cover story she had prepared about a solo, unofficial incursion onto foreign soil would no longer work. She could either offer a story closer to the truth, or end the meeting now.

Jesse turned her stare straight ahead. “I hope you don’t believe those lies.”

“I know you. I don’t know this Lanton.”

Maybe she did, and maybe she didn’t.

They left the large ferns behind and entered the passionflower walkway. “I have to clear my name,” Jesse said. “I’m looking for Perez.”

Juanita looked sharply at her. “Amadeo Perez?”

Jesse nodded.

Juanita snorted. “You and a hundred others.”

“I have to find him, or his financial accounts—or my name, my life—isn’t worth a plug-nickel.”

Jesse tensed against the fear and guilt that rushed all too quickly forward. The tiniest links to the real world were an operative’s biggest liability and, usually, their loved ones were that link. She had known that, had known Amanda was in more danger than the average person because of her inability to care for herself. Amanda couldn’t even be left in a safe house. She could be drugged and transported there, but wouldn’t remain quiet.

Selfish, Jesse berated herself. She should have sent her away years ago. Amanda would have forgotten about her. But the thought of her sister forgetting brought a lump to Jesse’s throat. She had told herself she could maintain anonymity, but she’d been wrong and now she no longer had the luxury of simply dropping off the face of the earth.

Juanita slowed. Jesse felt the world slow with her. The sweet aroma of passionflowers washed over her, bringing with it unsettling memories of the failed operation…and death.

Juanita spoke in a whisper. “All I know is that he uses cell phones and trusted messengers exclusively. We have had a watch on the airwaves for years, but Perez is a vaporous personality.”

Jesse nodded. The only known picture of Perez was at age fifteen. He’d remained anonymous for nearly twenty-five years.

“So far, we have been unable to get inside his network,” Juanita went on. “Even our attempts at creating a crisis to force one of his connections to contact him have been unsuccessful.”