CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
AFTER A STOP IN HOUSTON, UNITED AIRLINES FLIGHT 3216 ARRIVED at Mexico City International Airport at 2:15 in the afternoon.
A white Lincoln stretch limo waited to take them to the Gran Hotel Ciudad de Mexico in the Zócalo district downtown, the area that housed the national palace, the seat of the Mexican government.
As Gage leaned back in the deep red leather seat, he couldn’t resist a glance at Abby, who stared out the window as if she were in a trance.
Gage smiled. The city was in every way amazing. With its wide, tree-lined boulevards and beautiful colonial buildings, it reminded him of Madrid. Not surprising since the Spanish had conquered the Aztecs in the sixteenth century and built the first cathedral in Mexico City on top of an Aztec temple.
“It’s beautiful,” Abby said, clearly in awe. “There’s so much color. It’s everywhere.”
Color splashed everything from murals and street art to food vendors and musicians playing guitars, drums, and horns with a distinctive Latin beat. Though the buildings in the center of the city were hundreds of years old, in the distance, towering, sophisticated, ultra-modern structures dominated the skyline.
“I wish we had more time,” Abby said wistfully.
Gage understood. He had wanted to see the world, and so far he hadn’t been disappointed. There was a dark side to every city, cruelty and injustice in every country, but the good mostly outweighed the bad. Everyplace he went held a certain unique appeal.
“We’ll finish our business, and as soon as we get the chance, we’ll come back.”
The minute the words were out of his mouth, he realized his mistake. Once the expedition was over, so was his time with Abby.
For a moment, her gaze met his, and he saw his thoughts mirrored there. She made no reply, just turned to look out the back window as if she might have missed something. Then he felt her hand on his arm.
Worried golden eyes met his. “Gage—I think someone’s following us.”
He turned toward the window. “Which car?”
“Older silver Mercedes. I noticed it as we left the airport, but I didn’t think anything about it. It’s been behind us all the way into the city.”
“Could just be he’s headed in the same direction.”
“Could be, I guess.”
But now that Abby had pointed it out, Gage kept an eye on the vehicle, which stayed at a steady distance about six cars back. More and more people knew he was heading up an expedition. Arrangements had been made, discussions with people who were experts on the history of the area, people in the government like Juan Ortega.
Abby’s greedy cousin, now out on bail, knew the two of them were going after the treasure. Reynolds had guessed; anyone who’d known King Farrell might have their suspicions. Even a local Denver TV station had phoned, asking to interview him about his next project, a request he had denied.
By tomorrow, Victor Alamán would know.
None of them were aware of the details, or the exact location in Mexico of the treasure he was hunting, but their interest had surely been piqued.
Gage moved away from his seat toward the front of the limo and spoke to the driver in Spanish. He wasn’t completely fluent, but he’d been raised on a ranch where the foreman and several of the hands were Latino. When he was a boy, they’d had fun teaching him their language.
“Toma El siguiente derecho,” he said. Take the next right. “Go down a few blocks,” he continued in Spanish, “then circle back to the street we’re on.”
Gage moved back to his seat next to Abby. The driver made the turn, and Gage watched through the rear window. The silver Mercedes appeared behind them a few seconds later.
“You were right,” Gage said, tension settling in his shoulders. “Someone’s definitely on our tail.”
Abby quickly turned to look. “What should we do?”
“Hope to hell they’re just tracking our movements. We’re meeting Edge in Mérida. From then on, we’ll be armed.”
Gage didn’t miss the slight hitch in Abby’s breathing. “Edge is taking care of it?”
Gage nodded, his glance returning to the window. “He was deployed in South America for a while. After he got out of the army, he did personal protection for a corporate exec who worked for PepsiCo in Mexico City before he came back to Denver. He knows his way around down here.” He also spoke Spanish far better than Gage.
As the limo made another turn, the silver Mercedes appeared a few cars back. “They don’t seem to be worried about being spotted,” Abby said.
Which could be good or bad. Harmless government interest or men with serious intentions. Either way, Gage didn’t like it.
“Should we try to lose them?”
“There’s a good chance they already know where we’re headed. If our meeting in the morning goes as planned, we’ll change our airline reservations and leave for Mérida as soon as we can get a flight. We’ll do our best to keep them guessing.”
The beautiful old historic hotel, with its ornate colonial design, lion’s head columns, and stained-glass front doors, appeared up ahead. The driver pulled over to the curb, then came around and opened the rear passenger door.
As they climbed out onto the sidewalk, the silver Mercedes drove past. The windows were tinted too dark to see inside, but the vehicle was an unsettling reminder of just how dangerous their search could get.
* * *
With its stained-glass dome above an open lobby surrounded by ornate wrought-iron balconies, the five-star luxury Gran Hotel was beautiful. A crystal chandelier hung over the entry as they made their way inside and were checked into the roomy master suite Maggie had reserved for them.
The spectacular view of the Zócalo, with its magnificent Metropolitan Cathedral and the Palacio de Hiero Centro, distracted Abby for a while, but by nightfall their encounter with whoever was following them kept her on edge, and even Gage’s skillful lovemaking in a spectacular four-poster bed couldn’t put Abby to sleep.
Sometime near dawn, she dozed for a couple of hours, then opened her eyes when she heard the shower running and realized Gage was already awake and preparing for the day ahead.
She passed him on his way out of the bathroom, went in to shower, then dressed in the apricot skirt suit and cream silk blouse she had brought for their meeting with Victor Luego Alamán.
Grabbing her small leather clutch, she walked into the living room to see Gage dressed in an expensively tailored dark blue suit, white shirt, and red and yellow tie. With his height and broad shoulders, he exuded power and authority, exactly his intention, and Abby felt an embarrassing shot of lust.
The corner of Gage’s mouth tipped up. “I wish I had time for what you’re thinking. I’ll make up for it when we get to Mérida.”
Warm color flooded her cheeks. Pride demanded she ignore him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m ready whenever you are.”
He grinned. When he noticed her business attire, his dark brown eyebrows drew together. “I’m sorry, Abby, this is something I have to do alone. If Alamán agrees to our terms and gets us the permissions we need, we’ll be paying him a substantial fee for his efforts. Taking a bribe isn’t something he’s going to want to do in front of a witness.”