Lima

LIMA

I

Ruben managed to convince the random flyer next to Anne to trade seats with him. Soon, the plane hummed along the runway stretch, lurched upward, and lifted them into the skies.

Anne wasn’t speaking much. Ruben had a glass of water and ignored the package of peanuts brought. Halfway through the flight, Anne’s near-silence abated.

“Ruben,” she said to him, “Keller showed up at my husband’s funeral.”

Ruben nodded. He kept his eyes on the back of the seat in front of him.

“I know,” he said. “I was there.”

“Of course,” Anne said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Ruben had seen what had happened with Keller. Everyone had. Anne wished he hadn’t, although she wasn’t ashamed of it.

“It’s all right,” Ruben said quietly. “I realize we never spoke there. I was trying to give you some space. I could tell that was what you wanted. I tried to speak to you on your way out, but I don’t think you even heard me. You were already out the door and it was raining hard.”

“Thank you for being there.”

Ruben didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

“After I went home, I was attacked.”

She related the full story to him along with the man’s description. Ruben shook his head but didn’t say much more. He was relieved that she had come out of it without suffering serious harm, although his worry was clear when he looked closer and saw the bruise on one side of her jaw. She brought her hand to the area and prodded the tender spot.

“If you need anything, please ask,” Ruben said. “I have aspirin.”

Anne turned forward again, cast her eyes downward, and shook her head. Inwardly, she knew she should be grateful. She had asked a lot in hopping aboard a flight to Peru on a moment’s notice. How many others would have even considered it?

Ruben didn’t have a family, only an ex-wife. Nonetheless, Anne had expected some polite form of no from him. He had surprised her. He was here for her as he had been for her husband and at least she could be glad she still had someone.

When the flight landed, Anne was quick to fetch the luggage, or as quick as she could be since the Jorge Chávez International Airport was clogged with tourists. Ruben offered to assist with the luggage, but there was little enough that Anne didn’t need the help. She picked it up and continued walking. Ruben trailed behind her.

A man’s eyes latched onto them from the crowd. He made rapid steps to cross their path. Anne stopped. Ruben almost bumped into her from behind.

“Anne?” the man asked with a smile. Startled, Anne studied the man’s unfamiliar face.

“Do I know you?” she asked at last.

“Your name is Anne?” the man asked. “Anne Anderson?”

“Anderson? No.”

“Sorry,” the man apologized. “A mistake. Have a good day.” He moved out of their way and pushed into the crowd, disappearing.

Anne glanced back at Ruben, who shrugged. The two resumed moving through the crowd with slow but gradual progress.

In another part of the airport, the man who had seemingly mistaken Anne’s identity found another man dressed in brown slacks and a gray collared shirt. “Javier,” he said, drawing the man’s gaze, and pointed toward the departing forms of Anne and Ruben.

Javier gave the man a nod and a push in that direction. The man left, hurrying after Anne and Ruben toward the airport doors. He pushed through the bunch blocking his path and, from a safe distance, followed Anne and Ruben out to the streets.

II

A leap of impulse brought Anne and Ruben to Lima, but the city was far from their destination. When Ruben ventured talk of the city’s wealth of museums and theaters, Anne met this with a sigh. Ruben probably meant it as a distraction, but Anne couldn’t muster a lot of enthusiasm for the conversation.

She had no eyes now for the Museo Larco or any of the other wonders of the city as Ruben’s first wandering interest suggested. She had seen enough during her previous visit with Damon, and Ruben had not been fortunate enough to accompany them then.

At Anne’s lack of a response, Ruben sank into silence again. Anne continued to lead the way, now to a modest lodging establishment.

From a street away, their pursuer watched.

Their room was small, scented of balsam with walls of deep-brown. Two beds furnished the room, both covered with light-brown linens.

Anne dropped the duffel bag and sat on the edge of one bed. She lowered her face into her hands. Ruben eased the door shut.

Anne raised her weary eyes. “I feel so exhausted,” she said, “but I couldn’t possibly sleep now.”

Ruben sat on the other bed. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

“Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You must think I’m insane. Why are you here with me?”

“Damon was a friend,” Ruben said, “and so are you. Your husband and I worked together, but he was also a friend to me during difficult times. My divorce—remember?”

Anne nodded.

“Very messy,” Ruben said. “My fault, I admit. Too much drinking and gambling. Damon, he never judged me for my mistakes. That’s the true test of a friendship, I think. When things are at their worst, your friend is still there.”

Anne’s hands twisted together in her lap. She couldn’t say she understood this enduring loyalty of Ruben’s.

“Ruben,” she ventured.

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you came.”

He answered her with a meek smile. Little more was said.

Outside, an observer waited for several more minutes before withdrawing.

III

Anne didn’t care to wait in the city for long. On Ruben’s insistence, she agreed that it wouldn’t be wise to fling herself down a path across the Peruvian countryside and into the mountains without a well-suited source of knowledge of the terrain and potential obstacles. To her surprise, Ruben soon found a man willing to help.

His name was Raul, and he was an experienced mountaineer. Raul, as it happened, would be returning to his home of Huancayo soon. He would carry on with them further into the Andean region for a price which was considerable but also understandable.

“It is a strange journey to make,” Raul remarked, “and for the place you want to reach, it might be dangerous.”

“Danger I can handle,” Anne said. She had a brief thought of the break-in incident back in St. Charles.

“Good,” Raul said. “Because by dangerous, I mean expensive, too.”

“Of course,” Anne sighed.

“If you will pay what I ask, and you know the risk, we have a deal. I will need to have payment up front.”

“He seems genuine,” Ruben said to Anne on their way back. “Probably the best we’ll find. We are lucky to have found him. There was no time to check references. This is all very spur-of-the-moment.”

Anne and Ruben returned to their rooms to clear out their belongings and make the final preparations for departure.

“I don’t know how you did it,” Anne said to Ruben, slinging a pack over her shoulder. “Finding Raul, I mean. I don’t know how I could have managed this by myself.”

“I’m sure you would have found a way,” Ruben replied, still packing.

“Maybe.”

“Lima is a big city,” Ruben said. “If there is anything we need, we can probably find it here. After we leave, things might be different.”

Ruben hefted his pack and the two of them walked out, back down the stairs to the ground level and out to meet Raul.

When they arrived at the street corner, Raul already stood waiting. He raised a hand to distinguish himself from the others clustered around. Without much ado, the three left to catch a ride in a beaten old green van, something else Ruben had taken the trouble to arrange.

Dubious, Anne climbed in after the other two. Soon they rolled along, heading eastbound and leaving the bustling streets of Lima behind.

IV

Another plane lowered onto the airport strip. On board were Brock Keller and a man named Vince.

After the flight settled and they moved out with the rest of the passengers, Vince gathered their tow of luggage. Keller met the man who waited for them.

“Good day,” he said. “You must be Mr. Keller.”

“I am,” Keller said.

“My name is Javier.” Javier rubbed his dark-whiskered chin and studied Keller from his eyes down to his blue suit.

“I trust all was discussed between you and our mutual friend?” Keller asked.

Javier continued to scrutinize Keller for several seconds before answering with a nod. “Yes, Mr. Keller. All is quite clear.” He diverted his eyes for an instant, but jerked his gaze back to the forward position when Vince approached with two briefcases and a travel bag in tow.

“Who is this?” Javier asked.

“This is Vince,” Keller said. “Another of my associates.”

“Is there anyone else?”

“No, just the two of us.”

Javier took another quick glance around. “Forgive me, Mr. Keller,” he said, “but it is best that we move quickly. You have a serious job for us, I understand. We should leave here to continue our discussion in private.”

Keller nodded. “Come along, Vince.”

Keller walked after Javier toward the airport’s exit. Vince followed behind them, pushing his steps to keep up despite his load.