Page 85

“Why didn’t you just kill me?” I ask the question that has had me confused ever since the doors of the prison closed behind me. “I stole a shipment of drugs from you.”

“I thought putting you in herewaskilling you.” Juan tilts his head with a rueful smile. “Gringos without friends or money don’t usually last long here. Had I been a betting man, I would have laid down good money that you’d disappear within a week. A month, at most.”

He holds my eyes across the table.

“I wasn’t aware, at the beginning, of the extent of your crimes.”

He taps his fingers on the table, still staring at me with that unsettling smile. The longer I look at him, the more I can see the resemblance to his son. But where Rodrigo’s face is mean and hard, Juan’s is angular, his forehead high, his deep-set eyes gleaming with intelligence. Apart from a certain tilt to the mouth and a basic similarity in facial structure, the two men could not be more different.

“When Rodrigo finally told me he’d managed to lose such a significant amount of product, I was rather surprised to learn he believed you had escaped Colombia with it, and that you were now sailing, carefree, around the world with a stolen yacht filled with cocaine. I, of course, knew differently, since I’d put you in here. Even so, I still wasn’t overly concerned with your fate. Frankly, Abby, I had bigger problems than onetroublesome Australian girl. I assumed you’d die in here, sooner or later, which would save me the trouble of dirtying my own hands. But then, quite recently, a contact advised me that the stolen yacht had turned up in a Thai port.” Something hard flashes in his eyes. “It was empty, of course, the cocaine long gone. But there was something else inside it that made me take a much more personal interest in your welfare.”

What the hell does that mean?

I can’t imagine it’s anything good.

“Let me explain.” Juan leans forward. “Two years ago, the daughter of a good friend of mine was backpacking through Asia. Her last post mentioned that she was going to see a temple in northern Thailand.” His eyes settle on mine. “Her parents never heard from her again.”

The hard light in his eyes strips away his suave mask to reveal the ruthless killer he is, a man who has ruled the Cardeñas cartel with an iron fist for over thirty years.

“I did what I could to find my friend’s daughter,” he says quietly. “I’d supplied the triads for years, so I had good contacts throughout Asia. I wasn’t happy when it became clear that my questions were being stonewalled. I applied some pressure. A few months later, the girl’s parents received their daughter’s hand in the mail.”

I try not to react, but my stomach is churning.

“Perhaps I should have heeded the warning.” Juan lifts a shoulder. “But I am a proud man, and I had a reputation. Instead, I cut off supply to the triads. It didn’t go down well, of course, but I was angry.” He gives me a speculative look. “This brings us to where your world and mine collide, Abby.”

Great.I do not have a good feeling about this.

“I told you the yacht had something inside it.” His face tightens. “It was the severed head of the missing girl.”

Oh, fuck.The prison swirls around me. I couldn’t speak if I wanted to.

“Some pieces began to fall into place, Abby, including your rather unusual ability to remain silent. After all, you’ve been here a long time.” Juan takes out a bottle of rum and two glasses from the bag on the floor. Pouring me a glass, he slides it across the table. “Almost two years. And yet despite the lack of any formal charges, you haven’t asked your embassy for help. That is odd behavior, especially for an Australian. Your country is usually very proactive in helping their citizens.”

I stare at the table in silence. I wish I could say I’m trying to play smart.

The truth is that I’m just scared.

He gestures around at the prison walls. “Even local girls need help in here. Money, favors from the guards, from family. But long after most girls would have cracked, you’ve asked for nothing. You’ve kept your mouth closed and your head down. Do you know how rare that is in a place like this? You’ve never even told anyone your real name. The girls here call youLa Silenciosa: the silent one. Shall I tell you what I think?” Juan eyes me steadily. “I think that you would rather be here, in prison, held without any formal reason, than be alone outside these walls.”

Oh, you have no idea.

I can barely breathe.

He unfolds his legs and clasps his hands before him on the table. “You’re terrified, Abby,” he says softly. “You can’t look at me. Your hand shakes when you smoke. Who, I wonder, is capable of inspiring such fear? My son has a certain reputation, it’s true. But somehow, I doubt even his sadism could outweigh the horrors you’ve had to face since you got here.”

I avoid his eyes, my heart thudding like a trip-hammer.

“I would like to know who it is you are so afraid of. I want you to tell me who convinced you and your boyfriend to steal that shipment. Who it was that killed your boyfriend andscared you so much you’d rather be inside this place than risk him finding you.”

My breath is shallow, barely there. I’m so terrified that I’m not sure if I want to throw up, faint, or make a run for it.

Juan smiles coldly. “Do not fear for your safety with me. My son, as you already know, believes you to be long gone. And the guard who let me in tonight would willingly die before he told anyone of my visit. Nobody will know of our talk, Abby, I assure you.”

“You don’t know that.” My hard response comes before I can bite the words back. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

“Oh, believe me.” His face is grim. “I do know. Or should I say, I knowwhatI’m dealing with.”

“No, you don’t.” I reach for the rum and gulp it down. “I know you’re a killer, Señor Cardeñas.” I’m surprised I can still speak. “But the man you want me to betray is a psychopath. Nobody who sees his face lives to tell the tale.No one. It’s why he’s never been caught. He gives his orders through an intercom or a third party. Messages on encrypted apps from a burner phone. And if anyone accidentally sees him, they disappear.”