Page 48 of Fear No Evil
“Mr. Howitz?”
“Mikey.” The man on the other end struggled for breath.
“Yes, when is Mikey’s birthday?”
A long pause ensued. Either the man was too ill to remember or—“The last day of April.”
Boris raised an eyebrow at Maggie for getting the date wrong. She stiffened, certain the boy’s birthday was in May.
“Have any doctors tried to treat you, Mr. Howitz?” Boris sounded gravely concerned.
“They gave me pills.”
Maggie snapped her eyes shut, hiding her sudden devastation. Whoever this was impersonating Howitz, he wasn’t a native English speaker. He’d pronounced pills aspeels, which meant Mike was either too sick to speak or he was already gone.
Charles stood suddenly, pointing at the radio. “That man is not American.”
Boris nodded shortly, letting Maggie know he had heard. “Thank you, Mr. Howitz. May I speak again with Mr. Barnes?”
“Basta,”growled a voice presumably belonging to their jail keeper. “Your time is up.”
As the radio in Arias’s hand emitted a low hiss, the Argentine flipped off the power switch and raised a weary gaze at the team.
Boris hung his head and pondered a moment. “I’m afraid,” he articulated slowly, “we may assume Michael Howitz is dead or too ill to speak.”
Even though she’d come to the same conclusion, Maggie felt a cold wave of shock roll through her. When she’d worked with him, Mike had been the life of the office, always firing off jokes, the first to offer a helping hand. He hadn’t deserved to die on a remote mountain, being held against his will.
She pictured his son, who’d only been eight when she’d met him, a younger version of his father, all freckles and blue eyes, and her throat constricted. She leveled a glare at Arias.
“Did you already know Mike was dead?”
Jake reached over and squeezed her thigh in warning.
Arias spread his hands. “How could I? They tell me nothing. I travel from here to a camp on the other side of the mountain bearing offers to Rojas and counteroffers to you, nothing more.”
Charles asked the question that jumped into Maggie’s head. “Have you seen Rojas’s camp, then? Where is it?”
“No, no. We meet at a small brick dwelling, not at his camp. Like I said, I know nothing, only that I am tired.”
Charles persisted. “But surely you have an idea by now where the hostages are being kept?”
Arias darted anxious glances about the camp. Marquez had moved too far away to hear them. There were no other rebels about. He pitched his voice lower, speaking only to those in thecircle. “I’ve heard rebels whispering of a place calledArriba, up there.”
TheXon the map that had no name! It had to be. Meeting Jake’s upward glance, she knew he thought the same thing.
Bellini scraped a hand over the black whiskers on his cheek. “How does the death of one of the hostages change our situation?”
“Well, it gives us the advantage, I believe.” Boris turned a compassionate gaze on the Argentine. “I understand that you are weary, Señor Arias, and I’m sorry. But the only way to put an end to this process is to press on.”
“I know.” Arias nodded, fully resigned.
“Please get word to General Rojas that because we have no proof of life for Mr. Howitz, we will not secure the money for his ransom. Moreover, because Jay Barnes is ill, we can only give half the requested sum for his safe return, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. We will, however, arrange for the release of the five rebels captured at Calamar, but only in exchange for the three JUNGLA held by the FARC here.”
Maggie wanted to protest that Mike Howitz’s family would want his body back, dead or alive. Leery of sticking her head out, she bit back the words, relieved when Esme chimed in.
“We cannot leave Mike Howitz’s body here.” Her dark eyes flashed with affront. “His family must have closure.”
“That’s true.” Boris rubbed his palms together, thinking. He nodded at Arias. “We will offer ten thousand dollars more for the return of Howitz’s body.”