The best drug money can buy. Which most likely explains how they keep the place supplied with liquor and good toiletries. I imagine engineers aren’t the only ones who can keep a secret for a price or a threat.

When I finally coax myself out, I towel dry and peek into the vanity. There are various types of remedies, for headaches, for colds. A comb and brush that looks unused. Several toothbrushes still in packages. A tube of toothpaste—Colgate. American. I take advantage of the chance to brush my teeth and use the comb and brush to detangle my hair. Then I steal a look into the bedroom.

Maria has left a long shift of pale green cotton on the bed. I slip it over my head. It falls to my ankles. It moves when I walk; the material is whisper soft and thin. I wonder if I look naked in the light. The thought makes me uncomfortable enough to take it off.

My jeans and T-shirt will have to do—even if they aren’t the cleanest.

I hear the door open across the hall. In two steps, I’m at my door, too.

Max and Culebra are there, smelling of the same fragrant soap, freshly shaven, wet hair combed. They’ve changed into clean jeans (must be Ramon’s—they are all about the same size, though Max’s thighs clearly strain the seams of his pair) and lightweight Mexican guayabera shirts with colorful embroidery and pleating. Culebra’s is light gray, Max’s a blue that makes his eyes intense as the ocean.

Culebra looks past me into the bedroom. “Maria didn’t bring you clean clothes?”

I follow his eyes to the shift on the bed. “I think it’s a nightgown,” I reply.

He grunts.

Max grins, looking around me, too. “Too girly for you?”

I close the door behind me with a decisive click.

Max sniffs the air. “Something smells good.”

He lifts his nose and moves toward the great room, following the odor of meat and beans and grilled vegetables like a bloodhound on the scent of a rabbit. He heads straight for the kitchen, Culebra right on his heels.

Only I lag behind.

The table seats eight and is set with plates and utensils and a steaming stack of tortillas. There are three chairs in the same heavy dark wood as the table on one side, a long bench on the other, and two captain’s chairs on each end. Ramon is already seated in one of the chairs, watching Maria as she moves around the kitchen. He has showered and changed, too, as has Maria. Still, the shower hasn’t completely masked the smell coming off both Ramon and his wife. They’ve been busy in the last hour—and not just in the kitchen. The musk of their sex tickles my nose.

Maria looks up and sees us approaching. She frowns in a concerned way at me. “You didn’t like the dress?”

I grope for a way to answer when Max pipes up, “Anna’s not big on skirts. She’s more the pants type.”

Shit. He says it with a wink and I see clearly on both Ramon’s and Maria’s faces what they’re thinking. I’m gay.

Maria recovers before Ramon. “I see. No problem. After we eat, I’ll get you a pair of Gabriella’s jeans. She may be a little shorter, but I think they’ll fit. Now, sit. The food is almost ready.”

Three words grab my attention: after we eat.

She’s back arranging food in serving dishes and I look at Culebra. What do I do?

He purses his lips ever so slightly. Maybe it’s time to come clean.

What?

Tell them you’re on a strict liquid diet. For health reasons.

Oh, like that makes sense. Did you see the way they looked at me when Max said I wasn’t big on skirts? Now I’m going to insult Maria by refusing to eat her food?

Got a better idea?

Maria is ready to serve and Ramon motions around the table. “Please. Sit. Eat.”

I take the bench, Culebra and Max chairs, and Maria takes her place at the opposite end of the table.

“Where’s Gabriella?” I ask.

“She’s on watch. Outside.” Maria answers. “One of us always takes watch.”

An idea blossoms. “Has she eaten?”

“She will. When we’ve finished, I’ll take her a plate.”

I push myself up from the bench. “No. Let me relieve her. I’m not hungry and I’m sure she wants to be with her father.”

Ramon looks startled but grateful. “Are you sure? You haven’t eaten—”

“I’m sure. Is she just upstairs, in the cabin?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll go now. Send her right back to join you.”

I’m at the door when Culebra’s sardonic voice sounds off in my head. Nice save.

Ramon has crossed to open the door, and I step past him, releasing a sigh of relief when the door closes again behind me. Nice save indeed. You’d think I’d be used to dealing with humans forcing food on me, but it never gets any easier.

At the top of the stairs, I find Gabriella seated cross-legged on the floor of the shack, a laptop balanced on her knees. She has an iPod in her hand and earbuds in her ears. I can hear the beat of a rap song. It’s loud enough that a tank could pull up in front of the cabin and fire off a shot before she’d hear it.

That’s the way she’s standing watch?

It’s my first thought until I see that her eyes are on the screen and projected there are four views of the grounds around, and leading to, the cabin.

She looks up in surprise when I appear from the subterranean stairway, and pulls the buds from her ears. “What are you doing here?”

I point to the laptop. “Nice setup. I didn’t see one camera when we arrived, let alone four.”

She smiles. “The best security system money can buy.”

“Your English is as good as your mother’s,” I say.

She shrugs. “I go to school in the U.S. My mom and I spend a lot of time there.” There’s a pause while she seems to reconsider what she’s just said. “At least we used to.”

I point to the laptop. “I’m here to relieve you. I’ll keep watch. You can join your family.”

But she makes no move to get up. Her face is both youthful and mature—her smooth skin and wide eyes speak of her young years but the sadness dimming those eyes and the worry lines already forming around her mouth make her seem older, life-worn. I’ve seen the look before.

“I know about your brother. I’m sorry,” I say.

She frowns. “My father told you?”

“It’s why we’re here.”

She sniffs. “Then you’ve come on a fool’s errand. It’s too late for my brother.”

“But not for you. We’re going to make sure you and your mother are safe. That the men responsible for your brother’s death are punished.”

This time she laughs. “Well, that shouldn’t be hard, should it? Seeing as how the one responsible is the one you came with.”

Her bitterness is scathing. She can’t mean Max; she couldn’t know about him. She thinks Culebra had something to do with her brother’s death? “You are mistaken. Cule—” I stop myself. “Tomás is a friend here to help.”

“Tomás?” Her eyebrows arch in surprise. “I’m not talking about Tomás. I’m talking about my father.”

CHAPTER 23

“MY FATHER IS THE REASON MY MOTHER AND I are living like animals in a cage.” Gabriella turns away from me, looks out through the ruined doorway. “He is the reason my brother killed himself. Antonio could never be what my father pushed him to be. That last outrage was the breaking point. My father wanted him to fight back against the bullies tormenting him. When he wouldn’t, my father made it clear he thought Antonio a disgrace, a weakling. And then he took matters into his own hands.”

I’m trying to reconcile the story she is telling with the one her father told us. According to Ramon, Antonio never told anyone what happened to him. “Did your brother talk to you about what had been done to him? It sounds like you knew what happened to Antonio before you read his note?”

“What note?”

I stop, take a mental step back. Perhaps Gabriella didn’t know about the note. Ramon may have wanted to protect his daughter from the truth about the details of Antonio’s rape. I certainly have no intention of being the one to break it to her.