* * *
“Hi there, Dan,” greets Van Dorn. “I just met your friend, Laura Beth. What a poised young woman, and quite a looker,” he says.
“Yes, sir. Could I speak to you privately for a moment?”
Van Dorn is ever eager. “Certainly. Let’s take this table in the corner. Are you okay? You’re out of breath.”
Shep Van Dorn folds his lean body into a chair. His dress shirt is paper white and perfectly pressed, his suit jacket brushed. With the heat in Madrid, Van Dorn must keep spare clothes in his office for an afternoon change.
Lorenza stops at their table. “Cigars, cigarettes, señor?”
“Just matches, baby,” replies Van Dorn. He smiles at Lorenza. “And say, send the waiter over with a scotch and soda.”
He extends the offer of a beverage but Daniel declines. Van Dorn leans back in the chair, threading his fingers together. His gold cuff links blink from beneath his sleeves. Daniel notes Shep’s body language. Nonchalance pleated with power. “So, Dan, what can I do for you?”
Daniel pulls a breath. “At the hospital you mentioned that if I ever needed something I could come to you.”
Van Dorn smiles. “Yes, I did.”
“Well, a friend of mine who works here at the hotel, she was fired and it’s my fault. I have to get her rehired.”
“I see,” says Van Dorn. “We’re speaking of Ana?”
“Oh.” Daniel hesitates before replying. “Yes, sir. I know she worked for your family. She said you were very good to her.”
Van Dorn gives a low laugh. “Did she now.”
Daniel pauses at the sarcasm, confused. “Yes, and since you know her and know her character, I thought you could vouch for her.”
Shep Van Dorn leans forward toward Daniel, his expression smug. “Well, you see, Dan, that’s not really possible. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but Ana is a hustler and a thief. She’s a con artist.”
The words hit Daniel like a punch.
Van Dorn nods and releases a sigh. “Yes. It’s such a shame. She stole a gold bracelet from our villa. By the time I found out it was too late. She melted it down for teeth for both her and her brother. Crafty, eh? With all the tourism coming to Spain, some of these beggars have become talented swindlers. You can’t even give them anything. They’ll sell it.”
Daniel recalls the conversation in Vallecas, about selling the gifts he brought. Has Ana been conning him this entire time? No, it’s not true.
“I wanted to alert the authorities but unfortunately Nick took part in some shenanigans with Ana and I didn’t want to draw attention to him. They’re a duo of sorts. So we transferred her here to the Hilton, hoping that she’d change her ways under the watchful eye of a supervisor. But it seems she’s up to her old tricks again. She’s a pro.”
Daniel stares at Van Dorn, unable to speak.
“I know, terrible. Such a beautiful little thing. What a waste.”
Lorenza appears at Van Dorn’s side. “The waiter is coming with your scotch, señor. He wanted to open a new bottle.”
“You don’t want to open my bottle, little mouse?” says Van Dorn with a grin.
Lorenza purses her lips, staring at Van Dorn. She twists a piece of her hair and throws her head back with laughter.
In an instant, Daniel’s lens changes. His focus sharpens.
Van Dorn watches Lorenza saunter away before he returns to the conversation. “There are plenty of fish in the sea, Dan. Between you and me, it’s fine to try a new swimming hole once in a while, but smarter to fish in your own pond, if you know what I mean,” says Van Dorn. “Laura Beth, she’s a great girl.”
One punch. That’s all it would take. And it would feel so good. Assault? No. A gift to the Foreign Service.
Daniel stands to leave, fighting the desperate urge to clench his fists. “Thank you for the information, Mr. Van Dorn. I sure do appreciate it.”
“Oh, are we done?” Shep Van Dorn stares at him with a grin.
Daniel smiles back. “Oh yes, sir. We’re done.”
113
Daniel makes his way to the elevator.
“Texano!” calls Carlitos. “I have your postage stamps.” Carlitos gives him a discreet tip of the head and slides a piece of paper into his hand.
Tom Collins. Tomorrow. 10 a.m. Sorolla.
“Is she still here?”
“They escorted her off the property after she gave me the message.”
“Thanks, Buttons.” He reaches in his pocket for a tip.
“No, no.” Carlitos shakes his head. “This favor is for Ana. I don’t understand how this could happen to her.” The boy is on the verge of tears. “Texano, can I ask you something? The pretty girl from Texas—is she really your girlfriend?”
“No, Buttons, she’s not.”
“Ay, I didn’t think so.” Carlitos releases a satisfied smile.
Daniel knows that Carlitos sees much at the hotel. “Buttons, just between you and me, what do you think of Mr. Van Dorn over there?”
Carlitos leans in to Daniel. “Ay, Texano, I know nothing. But my aunts once told me the story of Don Juan, a disguised man who was able to manipulate language and seduce women. Our Spanish flu epidemic many decades ago? It was initially believed harmless but proved deadly. Some still refer to it as Don Juan. So you see, I know nothing of Mr. Don Juan over there, except he never tips. The staff prefers his generous son.”
And this time, Carlitos does accept a tip from Daniel.
* * *
Daniel returns to his room. Should he call Nick? He moves toward the phone.
No. He’s calling Ben.
114
To keep his friend sharp and awake for training, Rafa recounts historical details.
“Francisco Romero of Ronda,” says Rafa. “Think of him on Sunday when you fight. This is the man they say invented the red muleta cape. Remember, for many years bullfighting was used to train knights. Only nobles on horses faced bulls.”
Fuga says nothing. He marches ahead as if in a trance.
“Of course red is only a matter of tradition. Bulls are color-blind and—”
Fuga motions for silence. They stand still as statues on the dark dirt road, listening.
Rafa moves his hands in a stepping motion. Fuga nods.