River Of Secrets. Lynette Eason
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her Bible every morning out on the dock.” The main orphanage building sat back away from one of the freshwater lakes scattered throughout the Amazon. Recently, a long dock had been added to allow swimming during the times it was safe and to provide easier river access. While Tefe was a small city with roads, water travel was still a necessity. Two new boats with outboard motors rocked gently, tied securely to the gleaming dock. Three canoes, the most common mode of travel, were banked on the shore.
Juan blinked. “She does?” He’d not known that. No wonder he couldn’t find her this morning. Not that he’d been specifically looking for her. Okay, yes, he had. He’d just refused to acknowledge his disappointment when she hadn’t come in to breakfast while he’d been there.
Whoosh.
Juan jumped as something flew past his cheek. “What…?” He turned swiftly, and when he did, it threw him off balance. He landed on his rear.
Another soft, almost soundless, whoosh hissed by him.
“Get down!” Lucas yelled.
Juan wanted to say, I am down, but instead rolled to his right. Thwap! Something hit the mat beside him.
“What is it?” he hollered.
“Someone’s shooting darts through the window,” Lucas gasped as he grabbed Juan’s arm. “Get your back against the wall. Don’t be a target.”
Juan panted, grunted, his muscles still quivering from his workout; his body still recovering from the virus. But he pushed himself against the wall and waited. He wanted to propel himself through the window and tackle the shooter. The urge was so strong, he shook with the effort to force himself still. But as he did, a flash of memory surfaced.
We’ve got a traitor. Get out, get out!
The explosion rocked him. Searing heat scorched the left side of his face. The child cried. They’d been betrayed, set up, sold out.
“Juan! Juan!”
Juan blinked, blinked again. Focused on Lucas. He was saying something, but Juan couldn’t grasp the words. “What?”
“It’s stopped. I’m going to try to find out who it was.”
“I’m coming with you.”
As they started for the door, Amy walked in.
“Amy!”
She jumped. “What? What’s wrong?”
Juan gripped her forearms. “Did you see anyone outside the window? Running from the gym?”
“No. Why?”
“Someone was using us for target practice. Thank goodness for lousy aim.” He looked at the two darts embedded in the wooden wall and the one in the mat on the floor.
Lucas said, “Come on, let’s take a look around.”
“I want to help. Which way should I go?” Amy asked.
Juan shook his head. “No way. This guy was trying to do some damage. I don’t want you wandering around alone looking for him. In fact, why don’t you head back to the main building and let Anna know what’s going on. Call the police and have them send someone over. We’ll look for our shooter.”
Amy bit her lip, hesitated. “Okay.” She turned and headed for the building.
Juan and Lucas split up, although Juan wondered what he’d do if he caught the guy. His overworked muscles told him he sure didn’t have the strength for a fight.
Amy ran to the main building, told Anna what had happened, then decided to go back to the gym to see for herself what was going on. Entering the gymnasium through the side door, she made her way down the main hall to the weight room. She looked inside—and stopped abruptly. “Jonathas, what are you doing in here?”
The teen looked up, startled. “I was looking for Juan. He said he was going to work out some, then come over and help with the new wing. When he didn’t show up, I came looking for him.” He gestured to the wall. “What happened here?”
Amy looked at the three holes—two in the wall and one in the mat. The darts were gone. She said, “Someone tried to use darts to shoot Lucas and Juan.” She blinked and asked Jonathas, “What happened to the darts? They were still there a few minutes ago.”
Jonathas shrugged. “I don’t know. I just got here and this is what I found when I walked in. Why would someone try to hurt either of them?”
“Good question,” Juan answered from behind. Amy spun around and came nose to chest with the man. She stepped back, flustered. Juan frowned down at her and said, “I thought you were going back to the main building.”
Why did she feel guilty? “I did, but then I decided to come here and just…see…whatever. I don’t know what I expected to find. Something.”
“Where are the darts?” Lucas asked, frowning.
Amy shrugged. “I have no idea. They were gone when I got here. Jonathas came looking for you and said they were gone when he got here, too.”
Lucas growled. “Should have collected and bagged those before going on our wild-goose chase. The guy probably watched us leave, then rounded the corner, came in here and pulled his evidence.” He raked a hand through his sandy blond hair. Dark eyes glittered with frustration under his brows.
Juan stomped over to the wall, studying the hole. “You think anything was on the tips of those darts?”
Lucas looked startled. “What? Like poison?”
“Yeah.”
Amy swallowed hard. Poison? And why did Juan all of a sudden look extremely familiar? Seeing just the right side of his face, in profile, without the scars, he reminded her of someone. The way he tilted his head, the quirk of his lips. She racked her brain but couldn’t pull a name from it.
Juan looked at Lucas. “You got a pocketknife on you?”
Lucas handed it over. “What are you doing?”
“Well, if there was poison on the tips of those things, some of the residue would be left in this wood.” He flicked the knife open. “Now, I just need a plastic Baggie.”
Amy bit back surprised laughter. Plastic Baggie? He’d sounded so…professional up to that point. She moved to the first-aid kit that hung on the wall.
“Here,” she said pulling out the Brazilian version of the Ziploc bag. “Your plastic Baggie.”
Juan smiled his thanks and his eyes glinted. He’d seen her humor and appreciated it.
With the knife, he scraped around the hole left by the dart and caught the shavings in the plastic bag. “Could I have two more?”
Amy shook off her thoughts; told herself it wasn’t important and complied. “What do you need two more for?”
Juan explained as he worked. “Well, there were three different darts. I want samples from the three different holes. I’m just curious. If there was something like poison on the tips, was it all the same or was there something different on each one—or something on one, but not the others?” He exchanged the second bag for the third. This time, he used the knife to cut a patch around the hole in the mat and then placed the entire specimen in the bag.
Once all three were filled, sealed and labeled, he looked at Lucas. “Will the police department be able to do a better job with this than they have with finding out who I am or who tried to kill me once before?”
He sounded bitter, and Amy’s heart ached for him. Lucas shrugged. “I don’t know. Leave me some of the shavings and I’ll look at them under a microscope. We’ll give the rest to the police and hope for the best. If they don’t come up with anything, I can have everything shipped to the States for examination. I have some friends on the police force in South Carolina.”
Amy