The group had assembled at the restaurant and ordered another huge meal with wine and traded information about their accommodations. Hoyte and Elora had found a flat over a tattoo parlour with its own entrance at the rear. It had a small two-piece washroom and a queen-sized bed, Hoyte pointed out with unconcealed glee. Wilfred and Ebony had a room in a tiny rooming house within walking distance of the restaurant. Their amenities went unmentioned. Terry had taken a small room in the rear of a grocery store because it allowed him to park the van in the private lane behind.

"Okay, next step is to lay out a plan going forward." Terry said, as they all pushed back from the table, sated.

"We don't have anything," Wilfred said. "Knowing where he worked doesn't help. His wife is no help either."

"Didn't he have a mistress?" Ebony asked.

"That's right, lass," Elora perked up. "She worked wi' him at the bank."

"What bank? We don't know that." Hoyte complained.

"So get on your computer and find out, old boy. Tax returns should help. We have his address he must have filed at some time."

Hoyte agreed and left the table to go back for his laptop.

"You getting along with him okay," Ebony asked.

"He does as he's told. I di' nae find him too troublesome."

"Be nice to him, Elora, he's our only computer expert here." Wilfred cautioned.

Terry ordered another bottle of wine for the table and they relaxed awaiting Hoyte's return.

"He worked at the Central Bank for Christ's sake!" Hoyte showed his frustration. "The national bank of the country and he uses it to diddle the accounts!"

"Easier in a crowd maybe," Wilfred offered.

"More places to hide." Ebony echoed.

"What about the employees?" Terry wanted to know. "Anything on dates of hiring or firing personnel?"

"Hey, I was saving that as a surprise."

"So, surpr-r-r-ize us, dearie."

The others picked up on the endearment and smothered grins.

"A teller named Anita Guerraro left at the same time as our friend and I have her address and before you ask, it is current."

"Well done, Hoyte." Wilfred slapped his shoulder. "I guess we know our next move."

Terry looked at the time and called for a vote. "Tonight or first thing tomorrow?"

It was four to one for tomorrow. Terry frowned and sighed, pouring another glass of wine.

*****

"What did you learn?" Raoul faced his men across his desk, his bandaged hand still seeping blood into the wrapping making his look even more menacing.

"She was very strong, jefi, but they all break sooner or later."

"Was that my question?" Raoul's eyes flamed.

"She told the gringo about a small wine making village near Mendoza. It is where Heuntos lived at one time as a child."

"And?"

"That was all she knew, jefi."

"And?"

"He went back to his hotel for the night. We plan to follow him in the morning. Juan is watching the hotel tonight." The man released a grin and pointed to his companion. "We are finishing up with the mistress."

"Do not leave a mess."

*****

Elora and Wilfred were elected to interview the mistress while the others waited at a cantina down the road. They pressed the bell for the Guerraro apartment and received no answer.

"You think she's out?"

"How would I know, laddie. I think we should just gae up."

"After you." They climbed the stairs and found the door to Anita's apartment and knocked. Nothing.

"Now what?"

"I di' nae recall being promoted to leader of this wee expedition." She knocked again and put her ear to the door. "I hear music."

Wilfred copied her and nodded his agreement. "Stand aside, madam." He took a pocketknife from his pants and proceeded to slip the blade through the molding and releasing the catch.

"Where di' yew lairn that?"

"A misspent youth." He pushed the door open and they walked in.

The smell caused them both to gag and Elora had to cover her mouth to stifle a shocked scream. Wilfred took her by the shoulders and steered her back out of the apartment.

"Good Laird, wha' happened in there?"

"Wait here." He took a breath and reentered the apartment, stepping over the scattered furnishings and articles of clothing. Behind the sofa Wilfred spotted the body of the mistress, Anita. She was half on her side, naked and covered in congealed blood. He staggered back and gulped a breath through his mouth. Steeling himself, he took another look and winced at the brutality. Anita wouldn't be giving them any clues to Carlos' whereabouts.

He looked about the room and kicked at a few items on the floor in frustration. The book caught his eye and he picked it up, turning to where a page had been torn out—it was a section on maps. Wilfred took the book and left the apartment, relocking the door.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

He and Elora left the building, Wilfred supporting her on her shaky feet.

*****

"We sure as hell can't stay in this area now." Ebony said.

"We just found the places for Christ's sake."

"Fine, Hoyte, you stay and answer any questions about the sudden influx of gringos coinciding with the murder of a young woman."

"She has a point." Terry added. "The police would probably choose to point at us as anyone. Easier targets."

"What's that you have?" Ebony asked Wilfred.

"I took from her apartment. It's a book about Argentina and it has maps. One was torn out. I just wondered if maybe it was significant."

"Let's see." He handed it to her and she studied the torn edges. "We could go to the library or a book store and find a copy. See what's missing."

"What the hell for?" Hoyte again.

"Well it might just be a clue. I mean, why would it be in the middle of that mess with a missing page if it didn't mean something?" She ran her fingers over the paper and paused. "Hold on."

"What?"

"There's a dent in the page. See, right there."

They each fingered the paper and agreed.

"So?"

"Let's find a copy and see what's under that dent."

*****

Chris opened the map on the seat beside him and left Buenos Aires and headed west on the Pan American highway system toward Mendoza. Anita had said it was a small village near Mendoza and he hoped to hell there weren't too many because it was a six or seven hundred mile drive, which meant around ten or twelve hours.

He didn't notice the dark van that joined him on the road out of town.

*****

The little bookstore was right around the corner from the tattoo parlour where Hoyte and Elora were staying and the owner had the same book—he said it was a schoolbook used for learning about the country—and he dug it out. Wilfred found the page and they matched the dent with a city named Mendoza, due west on the other side of the country in the foothills of the Andes.

"Shit I hope that's not where we have to go." Hoyte said, checking the distance. "That's gotta be six or eight hundred miles from here."

Wilfred asked the owner of the shop about the city and learned that it was the commercial center of an area, irrigated by several small rivers, producing most of the wine and fruit of Argentina. The rail line and highway across the Andes to Chile began there. He started to tell them about the University of Mendoza and the striking monument to General Jose de San Martin and the army of the Andes that liberated Chile from Spain in 1817. Wilfred thanked him and they bought the book and left.

"You're not really thinking of going there." Hoyte asked.

"What would you do instead? We tried the mistress and look where that led."

"But it's a two friggin' day drive!"

"A little less I think. So what's your plan then?"

"Ye di' nae have one do ye, dearie?" Elora draped an arm across his back. "We di' nae have much choice, Hoyte. We ca' nae leave the country by plane wi'out alairtin' Raoul you can bet. We ca' nae cross the border wi'out visas. It's get the money, dearie. Money talks once we have it."

"Okay, that's it then. We all go and do whatever we have to do before checking out and meet back at the restaurant in two hours." Terry commanded.

"We just checked in." Hoyte moaned, bemoaning the fact that he hadn't even spent a night yet.

"You can stay here if you like. We'll look you up when we get back."

"No bloody way. I'll be here in two hours."

******

The drive across the Pampas was warm and dry with hours of grain fields and then livestock ranching before finally coming to the more interesting orchards and vineyards as they reached the Andes foothills. They made a final pit stop in La Paz and asked about the villages around that relied exclusively on wineries for their livelihood.

"Two people we asked said the same place, Rividavia, it's south of San Martin off the main highway." Ebony took a swig from her water bottle and passed it to Elora.

"If it isn't too far we should find a place to set up a base in this San Martin before charging into Rivadivadoo or whatever." Hoyte suggested.

"I agree it's only a short drive to San Martin, I think we should do it and get it over with." Terry said and the rest agreed.

The town was not that big but it offered a number of choices for accommodation and eating and after taking turns at various intervals, they found rooms in the local hotel. For dinner they chose an outdoor patio behind a group of small commercial buildings and relaxed their tense muscles from the long drive. The sun was long gone behind the mountains and the patio was lit with torches that fluttered in the breeze. The evening became cooler, but not uncomfortable, and dinner was the perfect end to an arduous day of travel.

"Tomorrow first thing after breakfast we head to Ravidavia and check it out." Terry was taking charge again and nobody objected.

"What happens if we do find him?" Ebony asked.

"We scare the livin' shit out of him until he gives us the money." Hoyte affirmed.

"We can decide on that if and when we do find him." Wilfred. Dropped some money on the bill and stood from the table. "See you all in the morning, children."

"Did he pay for everything?" Hoyte asked.

"No, so pony up, and don't forget you had the larger meal and the extra booze." Ebony said, depositing some bills of her own on top the others.

Elora said she was going for a short walk to let her dinner settle before going to bed and waved good night to the others, taking a path from the patio down onto a narrow road that wound around the outer edge of the town. She thought back over the past few weeks and how her main street, up market life had changed. No more pricey wardrobes, hairstyles, manicures. No more limos and champagne or dining with the city's elite. No more erotic nights with Ebony. Instead she had actually almost posed for a girlie magazine, ridden around in a used, noisy van and eaten pasta in a Spanish, Italian fonda.

She came to a small square and saw the sign for an attractive little cantina that promoted the local wines and souvenirs of the wine country of the Andes. She wandered over, peering at the items in the window and reading their stories. The movement caught her eye and she looked through the window into the cantina area and saw the back of the man at the table, talking to a young woman. Something about him sent a shiver down her back and she moved to a better vantage point.

The profile made her gasp aloud and she covered her mouth as she stared at the bent nose of Christopher Ditchburn. What was he doing here? Huentos was their reason... the light came on and she let her mouth drop open as she realized what had happened. He was in cahoots with Carlos! Her first thought was to run and tell the others and as she turned away another thought occurred, one that held out very attractive possibilities.

Elora took a breath, straightened her shoulders and entered the cantina, casually strolling into the bar area and taking a table near Christopher. At the right time, she called to the waiter and from the corner of her eye she saw Christopher freeze in mid sentence. He turned and saw her smiling at him and his face turned a pasty, taco shell colour.

"Why hello thair, Christophair, Fancy meetin' yew in a wee place like this." The waiter arrived and she ordered while Christopher handed the young woman some money and waved her away.

"Aaaw, I hope I di' nae spoil yure evening."

He moved to her table and stared at her past the very well defined left turn his nose made. "What the- what are you doing here?"

"I might ask yew the same, Christophair."

"Don't play innocent, Elora. It's the money from the trust, right?"

"As it is wi' yew." She sipped the drink the waiter brought right away and smacked her lips pleasurably. "I think we need to have a wee talk."

*****

It was past three in the morning when they finally finished talking and had come to an understanding suitable to both. Christopher hadn't believed the news about Anita until she mentioned the page torn from the book and he felt some ground shift beneath him. He had been followed and she paid for his carelessness. In turn, he had confessed to his arrangement with Carlos to hijack the trust and what had happened since and saw that his choices had become very limited with Elora threatening to tell the rest of the group where he was and why.

Only threatening because she was interested in a deal for just the two of them. Christopher had learned about the women being summoned to the isolated villa in the mountains above the village and satisfied himself that it was Carlos and Elora was cutting herself in. It hadn't been their intention but as the discussion went on they drifted into a more intimate mode and by the time they finally agreed, both had shared an exhilarating new experience with one another in Christopher's small room.

"It wood ha' bin' nice to know aboot this back at wairk." She sat up as he moved away from her, leaving her hand where she'd placed it.

"It was... different, wasn't it?"

"Aye... very."

He blew out a breath and looked at his watch. "I don't think we should wait until morning. If we move tonight we might just be able to settle everything and be on the road before your friends know what happened."

"Let me rinse off fairst." She removed her hand and grinned. "Keep it happy fair me, laddie."

He watched her go to the shower and then began to dress. "Things could be a hell of a lot worse, he thought, still tingling from their encounter.

*****

Raoul's men watched the rental car leave the hotel and head up into the foothills above the village.

"We should report in."

"What will we say? We should find out where they are going first."

"He will be angry if he doesn't hear."

"An hour won't matter. You are too nervous my friend. Be patient, we might even become heroes in this matter."

Without their lights on, they followed the car up the winding hill until the village was a small puddle of light below. The car had pulled off the road near a bend below a very extravagant looking villa and the men stopped their van and waited.

Christopher and Elora climbed out of their car and cautiously approached the gate to the villa drive and smiled, finding it unlocked. They climbed the winding steps to the front door and waited until each of them acknowledged they were ready then he knocked.

Raoul's men used the cover of darkness and a few low shrubs to hide while they watched the front door as it opened and heard the exclamations of surprise followed by cursing and the unmistakable sound of one name—Carlos!

*****

Benito ignored Raoul's bandaged hand as he listened to the report from Raoul's men. Thorn showed nothing to indicate he'd been responsible for the mutilation.

"Shall I give them permission to—"

"I give permission, Raoul, not you."

"I know, I meant as you—"

"My order was to bring Huentos here, was it not?"

"Si, jefi. I just thought—"

"I don't think you really did think, Raoul.

"I will tell them, jefi, it will be done!" He began to sweat and his stump throbbed painfully.

"I will tell them, Raoul, to bring Huentos here and to kill the gringos." Benito waved to Thorn who took Raoul out again with much trembling and shaking. "Jefi!"

The creak of the gate preceded another blood-curdling scream and Thorn returned without a word.