Chapter 6
Corkie licked her lips as she scanned the front of Marta's place. She'd seen and photographed many of the red-light districts in Mexican cities, but she'd never seen a brothel like this. From the outside, it looked like a normal house. And considering that Alex got his impression of the place right off, it made her wonder if he had some personal experience with such places.
"Maybe we should go around back," she suggested faintly to Alex.
"That might be wise," he agreed, moving to skirt around some parked vehicles "Someone might confuse you for one of them."
Corkie looked down at her dirty, wrinkled appearance and snorted. "Not likely. I might get chased off the property, if anything."
Alex glanced at her, looking only at her face. "I doubt that...someone like you would bring in good income in a place like this."
She blinked at the back of his head while he walked ahead of her. She wasn't sure if what he'd just said was a compliment, or an insult. Was he saying she was pretty, even as ragged as she was, or was he calling her a whore?
"Hang on just a dang minute," she called out as she trotted to catch up to him. They reached the back of the house. A small, well-tended garden sat near the back porch, but other than that, the darkened night stretched as far as she could see.
"What did you mean by that?" Corkie asked.
Alex didn't respond and went up the porch stairs and rapped his fist on the door.
"What did you mean, someone like me, in a place like this?" Corkie insisted as she stopped next to him.
A voice called out from inside. "¿Quién es?"
Alex answered, "We're looking for Marta."
"Circundar al frente!"
Corkie glared at Alex. "Just what kind of person do you think I am?"
He turned to stare at her. "Do you really want to get into this now?"
"Yes!" she answered.
"¿Qué quieres?" the voiced asked from inside.
Corkie turned her glare to the closed door before them. "We're not going around to the front! We're here to see Marta!" she yelled. Then she turned back to Alex. "I want to know what you meant by that!"
The door opened, and a seriously pretty senora in her late forties with deep-green hazel eyes and a tan-darkened caucasian face eyed them suspiciously. The woman looked first at Corkie, and asked, "Are you looking for sanctuary or work?"
"Definitely not work," Alex said, but Corkie's throat seized as she stared at the woman's familiar face, an eerie realization floating through her brain.
"Are you...Marta?" she asked, thinking that Ivan knew this woman very well...since she was obviously the mother of his daughter. There was no mistaking those eyes.
"And if I am?" the woman asked.
Corkie swallowed and whispered, "'Es una lástima.'"
The woman blinked...and then smiled. "Ivan sent you?"
"Yes," Corkie said quietly, still gazing at her.
"How is he?" The woman stepped aside and allowed both her and Alex into the house.
"He's fine," Corkie said cautiously. "You are Marta, right?"
The woman smiled. "I'm Marta...owner of this house and an old friend of Ivan's. And I must assume that you are friends of his, too?"
Corkie wasn't sure how much she should divulge at the moment, but she figured...what the hell. "Yes, I've known Ivan for a while now. Sophia married my brother."
Marta's eyes narrowed instantly. "Sophia? Is that...isn't that his daughter?" she asked calmly.
Corkie tipped her head to the side, studying Marta. Alex, so far, had not said anything else, but he was watching both women carefully, dissecting every word and nuance of body language. Corkie had a feeling he would question her about this later.
And suddenly, Corkie smiled. "I'm afraid you won't be able to fool me, Marta...you look just like her."
Marta sighed heavily. "Let's talk in my room."
Corkie turned to Alex. "I'll be back later. Why don't you go and...enjoy yourself," she suggested.
He perked his ear to the sound of a giggling female from somewhere in the house. And he frowned. "I'd rather not."
"Surely, you can set aside your job for a few minutes. Go have some fun," Corkie said sweetly, teasing him, although the idea of him partying with any other woman irritated her, but she didn't own him. He could do what he wanted.
Alex's jaw clenched. "I don't pay."
Marta, hearing their small exchange, grinned and winked at him. "The girls work for themselves, so I do cannot dictate their charges, but two young ladies here owe me a favor."
"Thank you...but no," he replied sternly. He glanced at Corkie, saw her impatience for him to leave her alone with Marta for a while, and grunted. "But I could use a bath and something to eat, if it's not too much trouble."
"I think we can manage that," Marta said. They walked into the kitchen, which was empty, save a dog laying in a corner. Marta called out and two lusciously-endowed senoritas bounded into the room. "This is Mia and Clara...they will take care of you."
Mia and Clara smiled identical smiles at Alex, raking him from head to toe with dark eyes, and nodded as Marta gave them instructions.
"How long will your chat take?" Alex asked Corkie, obviously appreciating the new arrivals.
"I promise not to go anywhere," Corkie said, scowling at him. "We need each other, remember?"
Then Alex was whipped away by the two girls, and Corkie stood, pursing her lips at his departure. For all his insistence on not participating in the house's activities, he seemed quite happy to leave with those two. Maybe he changed his mind. They were pretty...and blessed with what God gave females. It wouldn't be the first time Corkie had seen a guy go gooey-eyed over a pair of perfect breasts. And Alex had followed two pairs. He was probably groping them right now and trying to figure out how to squeeze four melons at the same time...the pig.
He never looks at my breasts, she groused to herself and then frowned, because that was such a stupid thought. Alex didn't like her. He scowled or frowned every time he so much as glanced at her. Hell, he saw me naked just this morning, and nothing. Not even a smile of appreciation.
Corkie looked down at her chest. Okay, so she wasn't enriched with more curves than she needed. God stuck her in the brains and bravery category that day he was handing out boobs. But Alex didn't like her cleverness or her spunk either. He just didn't like her period, and that kind of hurt her feelings.
What's wrong with me?
After Alex left, Marta's smile softened. "How is Sophia? She's...twenty-six now?"
"Twenty-seven," Corkie answered, turning back to Marta. "She just had a birthday."
A distant light entered Marta's eyes. "Yes...it's becoming more and more difficult to remember that day."
Corkie licked her bottom lip and said, "Sophia told me her mother died when she was born."
Marta nodded. "It was better that way...Come. My room is this way. We can talk there, and no one will bother us."
Corkie followed Marta, with one lingering glance at the door Alex had gone through only minutes before. He'd better behave himself...
*****
Alex leaned his head back and sighed...immensely. He was in heaven. The two girls taking care of him had been gentle, diligent, and friendly.
He'd never enjoyed a hot bath more.
Clara and Mia brought him upstairs to the room they shared—apparently, they specialized in sharing—and set him up in their private bathroom with a tub large enough for Alex to stretch out. They offered to wash him, but he declined...politely. So, all they did was set out some towels and sat down on stools to watch, with small smiles on their lips.
Alex had never been ashamed of his nudity. In his line of work...well, there were times when a little nakedness was a given. And even now, the two girls didn't bother him. It was almost as if he were immune to their apparent interest in him. Actually...he was immune. He had no curiosity to indulge in their "friendliness" toward him. They could watch, or they could leave. Either way, Alex didn't care.
The dust, aches and pains, and weariness of his nighttime trek through the desert melted off him. He could still hear the music and laughter from downstairs, but as the morning dawned bright, it started to calm down. He heard doors close and cars leaving outside, and soon, the house was quiet. Alex closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax, and thought about the crazy, blonde-haired minx.
He learned a lot about Cortney Brooks these past two days, and yet, she was still a mystery to him. How had a woman like her, with her background and family, come to be acquainted with so many different kinds of people? And why the obsession with Niro Sultanovich? Why would she go to such lengths to put herself into so much trouble and danger, just to get his picture? The man was dead, yet Corkie believed someone else was taking his place. Alex understood why she'd want proof of that, but surely, she would have cut her losses after all this disaster and tried again another time. Any other normal person would have.
Why bother crossing a known devil like Espinoza for a few photos? It was crazy, and the more Alex thought about it, the more insane Corkie was to him. The woman needed to go home. Get married. Have kids and get on with a normal life. His job would be easier here in Mexico. Her life would be safer. And Espinoza would eventually stop looking for her. But she was so damn stubborn. She was traipsing around the world, following the ghost of one man, and to Alex, she was going to get herself killed one of these days. Just the notion of that quickened his breath.
God, how can one woman get into so much trouble so fast?!
Alex wanted to hate her, but the woman had spirit. She didn't back down. She was intelligent and beautiful. Deadly combinations. If he wasn't on a mission—and she wasn't the colonel's daughter—he considered seducing her, just to see what'd she do in return. Would she would be an adventurous lover, or a gentle one? Alex couldn't decide. She was both sweet and feisty while fully clothed. What kind of woman would she be between the sheets?
A soft sigh from the other side of the bathroom brought him out of his contemplations. He raised his head as Mia—Or was it Clara?—stood and left the room.
"Is there anything you need, Senor Alex?" the other one asked softly in her native language. She walked over to the bathtub with a smile and her small stool and sat down again, dipping her fingers into the water. Alex watched her with hooded eyes. He was wary of everybody these days, but this girl looked to be barely twenty years old.
"How old are you?" he asked.
"I am legal," she said. "I have my papers. Senora Marta said to provide for your every need. What do you need, Senor Alex?"
He inhaled deeply and sat up, exiting the tub while she watched with those lovely, deep brown eyes. "I do not wish to sleep with you, Clara," he said in a firm voice as he grabbed a towel from a nearby shelf.
The girl folded her hands in her lap and looked up. "No?"
"No," Alex said. He dried his body and wrapped the towel around his waist. He felt no desire in his groin for this girl, and she noticed his lack of physical response. Here he stood, naked, and he obviously did not have any urges for her or her clandestine proposal. A flush crept up her cheeks as she gazed thoughtfully at his broad chest, her eyes taking in his tattoo and the few battle scars that dotted his skin.
"The senorita you came with, the American...you are hers?"
"Tell me about Senora Marta," he said, avoiding her question. "She is not from Mexico, is she?."
The girl's eyes drifted up to his face. "The Senora's secrets are her own."
The girl had loyalty, he'd give her that, but it still didn't answer his questions. Clearly, there was a connection between Corkie and Senora Marta. Corkie's mention of her sister-in-law, Sophia, suggested that Marta might be Sophia's mother. And Corkie had not known that. It caused his thoughts to circle back to Corkie, and how her life intertwined with so many different kinds of people in this world. Corkie was the real mystery. Alex was baffled by her...and his reactions to her.
But in the end, he sighed and asked if there was a change of clothes for him lying around somewhere. His borrowed outfit from Fr. Ramiro was beyond filthy, and it had started to itch. He couldn't bear putting it back on, not after that amazing bath. The girl—Alex finally asked which one she was, and she said, "Clara," with a saucy smile—hopped up from her stool, her cleavage bouncing vigorously, and guided him into her bedroom. The other one, Mia, was asleep on the solitary, wide bed.
"Senor Alex," Clara whispered to him, opening a large wardrobe in the corner. "Choose."
Alex stepped over to her and peeked inside the wardrobe. It was full of men's clothing. He didn't want to think about why they were there, or who had worn them previously. He was only too happy to change into something clean. He picked out a pair of faded denim pants, a gray t-shirt, a pair of socks and boxer-style underwear...he noticed that those were still new and wrapped in plastic, so he was thankful for that small blessing.
After donning his new clothes, he went back to the bathroom to get his boots, check to make sure Corkie's camera card was still there. Then he sat down in a chair to look over his gun, quickly disassembling it, blowing out some sand, and putting it all back together.
Clara reclined on the bed, her head propped up on her hand, watching him. He noticed that her clothes were artfully arranged to entice him, the short sleeve of her tight dress falling off one shoulder and further exposing the deep cleft of her breasts. Her feet were bare and rubbing against one another. Politely, he thanked her for the clothes and asked where he could get a bite to eat. Clara scooted off the bed—again, that jiggle making his eyes draw straight down to her chest—and looped her arm through his.
"I will cook for you," she said, escorting him out of the room. He glanced back at the sleeping girl.
"Aren't you tired?" he asked Clara.
"I will rest later," she said, smiling delightfully at him. "I will take care of you first. Anything you need, Senor Alex." There it was again, that hidden proposal. He frowned severely, and she laughed and led him downstairs to the kitchen.
That's where he saw Corkie again, digging into an omelet that filled her entire plate. She was alone. She'd bathed and changed, too, and now she was wearing a dress similar to Clara's, only in a light beige and not quite so revealing. Her golden hair was no longer in that knot, and it fell around her shoulders in shimmering, damp waves. Alex's groin stirred for the first time that morning. She was absolutely beautiful.
Corkie glanced up from her breakfast, saw Clara smiling prettily at him with their arms entangled, and glared as she stabbed her omelet. "Where's the other one?" she asked.
Alex recognized a mad female when he saw one, and this one at the table was biting back a whole mouthful of bitter nails. He grinned to himself. "She's asleep...very tired."
"I'll bet she is," Corkie muttered and took a sip of her coffee. There was another omelet, already fixed for him on the table, so he turned to Clara with more thanks—as heartfelt and mischievous as he could manage without laughing at Corkie's attitude—and kissed the girl on the cheek.
Clara took him by the head and turned that kiss to her mouth. She surprised Alex, but he played along for now. It served Corkie right. She left him alone in this brothel. She got him into trouble and danger these past two days. She was the reason he was here in the first place. Let her simmer in anger as he kissed another woman.
"Muchas gracias, Senor Alex," Clara purred gently, but loud enough for Corkie to hear. "It was...fun."
Corkie's fork clanged against her plate. Clara shot Alex a bemused grin and sashayed out of the room. He watched her go, keeping a smile on his face.
"I thought you don't pay," Corkie said hotly as he sat down across from her at the table and pulled his plate toward him.
"I didn't pay," he replied honestly.
She stared at him for a long while. He was halfway finished with his omelet when she spoke next. "She's pretty," she said casually.
"Yes, she is," Alex said and continued to eat.
"She's a prostitute, Alex."
He poured himself some coffee from the coffee pot on the table and glanced at Corkie. "I'm very aware of what she does for a living, Corkie."
Corkie fumed in front of him. Alex watched her with amusement. They'd been separated in this house for the last two hours. For all he knew, she could have enjoyed its amenities.
"Did you fuck her?"
Alex choked on his next bite. "I don't see how that's any of your business," he stated when his throat was clear again. "And watch your mouth. What would your daddy think?"
"I'm a big girl, Alex," she snarled. "I can say fuck if I want to. Fuck, fuck, fuck...fuck!"
He eyed her coolly. "And I'm a man, Corkie, who does not answer to you. I can do whatever I want to."
"You disgust me," she said and got up from the table, dumping her plate and coffee mug in the sink.
He sat back in the kitchen chair and watched her bristling. "And you confuse me, Corkie."
She turned around, her skirt and hair flying with her movement. "What does that mean?"
"Why should you care if I slept with every girl in this place?"
"I don't care!"
"Could've fooled me."
She stomped over to him and planted her fists on the table top. "Fine...I care. I thought you said you are obligated to follow your country's laws, no matter where you are. Frankly, I'm disappointed in you, Alex. You talk the big talk, but when gigantic temptations fling at you, you forget all that. I thought you were a better man."
He listened to her speak, and he watched the blue fire in her eyes. She had trusted his morality, and now she felt betrayed. Something like that made him feel honored.
"I didn't have sex with her," he said quietly. "Or any girl here. I had a bath. I was given a change of clothes. And now I am eating."
"And I'm supposed to believe that? What about that kiss?"
"What about it? I cannot control Clara's personal desires and actions."
"You kissed her back!"
"So?"
Her glare seared through him. Her blue eyes delved straight into his gray ones, and she began to look more and more infuriated. "You kissed her to make me mad, didn't you?"
"And? Did it work?"
"What do you think?"
He smiled. "I think you're pretty when you're mad."
Instantly, her face dropped its intensity. "You're teasing me, lieutenant."
"Do you like me teasing you, Corkie?"
She sat down in her chair again. "Yeah, I do."
He snorted and finished his omelet. "Your friend Ivan said Senora Marta will help us. What did she say?"
Corkie fluffed her hair, fiddling with it for a moment, twisting a small tendril that fell across her shoulder and tickled the tanned skin of her collarbone. The collar of Alex's shirt got very tight as he watched her. "She said we are welcome to stay for as long as we need."
"Does she know about Espinoza?"
She shook her head. "No. The less she knows the better. But I managed to contact Ivan. He learned that Espinoza suspects we are heading toward the U.S., and he's got all the normal paths covered."
"That will make it difficult," Alex commented. "You still want to do it this way? I can have that chopper here in a few hours. I'll even run interference with your daddy."
Corkie heaved a tired breath. "That's sweet, Alex, but Ivan said he talked to Juan, and Juan said they found Espinoza's rat in Enrique's office, but where there's one, there's usually a lot more. He also discovered that Hibram Espinoza has been monitoring all U.S. military movements since yesterday afternoon. He would know where we are if you called your base again. If he has any men in the area, then they would be on us before your rescue arrived. I don't want to mix Marta up in this, if I can't help it."
H stared at her. "How does Juan know all this?"
"Juan knows most of what happens in this area," she said. "I haven't figured out how he does it, but I trust Juan and Ivan with my life."
"What about Senora Marta? Rats come in all shapes and sizes."
Corkie looked down and frowned at the table. "We can trust Marta, too. She's Sophia's mother. She's family."
Alex looked across the table at her. "She owns a whorehouse, Corkie...how trustworthy can she be?"
Corkie stopped playing with her hair and brushed it over her shoulder, glaring at him, but Alex now had a clear view of her graceful neck and wasn't too concerned he upset her again. His mouth burned to press his lips to that curve, right there, where her jaw met her ear.
"They're not all prostitutes, Alex," she said. "There's more to this place than meets the eye."
He snorted with disbelief. "I doubt this is one of those cases where the 'eyes can be deceiving.' The two girls I left with...those were prostitutes," he said shortly.
Her eyes sparked again. "Yes...I suppose you didn't notice anything but the two pairs of boobs bouncing at you, huh?"
"I noticed a lot of eagerness to provide me with everything I desired," he said, and Corkie sneered at him, saying, "You're such a typical man. Didn't you notice anything else—other than the boobs?"
"I noticed you diverting the conversation," he said. "What exactly does your new friend do here, besides tailor to her customers? And God! Don't tell me that Marta is trafficking drugs, too, because if you do, then we're out of here."
"What is wrong with you?" she huffed. "Why do you always think the worst of people?"
"That's life, sweetheart," he replied.
"Well, there's more to life than the bad things, Alex," she said. "I know that it isn't always rainbows and daisies, but you could try seeing it differently once in awhile. It won't kill you, you know."
He sat forward. "Listen carefully, Corkie. This is a whorehouse. Marta is a whore—"
"Retired," she corrected hotly.
"—and those girls I met are the same," he plowed on. "It may be legal here, but there is no coloring that a brighter shade of pink to make it pretty. And if you think you can make me see differently, then give it a shot. I'm all ears."
She inhaled deeply, her expression saying she'd rather box his ears, but instead, she said, "Some of these girls came from far worse situations. Marta takes care of them, making sure they are healthy, safe and protected. They all have their reasons for choosing the line of work, but at least, here, the girls aren't abused or forced to do what they don't want."
"Are you really condoning this lifestyle?" he asked her curiously.
"No, Alex," she insisted quickly. "I don't condone it, just as I don't condone what Ivan does, but sometimes the worst kind of life we could think of is better than what others have. Marta doesn't own the girls. She helps them however she can, even educating them so that they can go to the United States on student visas and begin new lives. They don't have to service anyone if they don't want to."
Alex cocked an eyebrow at that. "Oh, really...so, Clara and Mia choose to sleep with strangers? That doesn't shed a golden light on their integrity, Corkie."
She heaved out a tired breath. "No, I suppose to someone like you, it wouldn't look that way."
"Someone like me?"
Corkie raised her head and slanted him a speculative gaze. "Don't you ever see the world without the black and white, Alex? Haven't you ever just stopped and looked...really looked? Don't you look into people's eyes? See the depths of their lives, their happiness, their grief, their anguish and love? Can you not see that a smile is sometimes more than just a smile, and that there's more than just shades of gray?"
He sent her a solid frown. "Spoken like a true photographer, Corkie," he said.
She threw up her hands. "I don't need my camera to see colors in every face, not the black and white, and just the good and bad, or the right and wrong. I see life, Alex! And sometimes it isn't that pretty pink! Sometimes it's damn ugly and hideous!"
He sat there, silently, for a good two minutes, watching the animation and frustration in her own blue eyes. Then he said, "Is this where you tell me there's a rainbow after every storm, that there's a silver lining to every cloud?"
And she stared back at him. "Believe what you want, Alex," she finally said quietly, standing up. She drew in a deep, calming breath and walked away from him. "Heaven knows, I can't change your mind."
At the door, she paused and said over her shoulder, "Marta says you can have the bedroom upstairs at the end of the hallway, on the left. It's empty. No one in there to insult your impeccable integrity." Then she disappeared into another part of the house, leaving him to stew on her parting remarks.