Bride of the Tiger Heather Graham (fox in socks read aloud txt) 📖

Ashley, a little stunned by the passion in Tara’s voice, saluted sharply. “Yes, Ma’am! I’ll call for a taxi.”

She did. Seconds later, they were outside the elegant lobby, being helped into a taxi by a doorman.

“What a beautiful day!” Ashley murmured. She attempted some of her choppy Spanish on the taxi driver, who good-naturedly corrected her.

He was answering her, showing her something out the window, when she frowned and shook Tara’s arm.

“We’re being followed.”

“Oh, come on, Ashley.”

“I’m serious. That taxi left the hotel right when we did—and it’s still behind us.”

Tara felt as if her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t help it; she was suddenly frightened.

There definitely was a cab behind them. And Ashley could well be right—it might have been following them since they had left the hotel. She squinted; she couldn’t see into the cab very well. Even though they were on a crowded street—Caracas was a big, modern city—and moving slowly, the windows of both cabs were tinted.

They came to a traffic light. Tara could see that there was one person in the rear of the cab. A man, who appeared to be elderly.

She looked at Ashley and shrugged. “Ash, one of the big tourist attractions here is the glass factory. I think every tour takes you there.”

Ashley thought about it. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe I should tell our driver to lose him.”

“Not on your life!” Tara protested. Their driver was already moving incredibly fast for her. And they were leaving the city behind them, speeding toward the mountain.

Ashley sighed and leaned back. “Well, don’t blame me if that cab catches us.”

“Ashley, if we told our driver to lose that cab, it would probably catch up with us anyway. Like you said, the old guy is probably headed for the glass factory, too!”

Ten minutes later, they had climbed high along the mountain trail; through the trees, Tara could see the buildings of the glass factory.

Fear crept over her. Nothing had changed. The sand, the dirt, the stone paths, and the trees were just the same.

Even the sky was the same, just beginning to cloud, beautifully blue above the vegetation that hugged the mountain. Eventually night would come, and it would be completely dark, except for the light of the stars.

Tine had disappeared into the trees. Jimmy, too, had simply disappeared. No one had ever found either of them.

“We’re here.” Ashley prodded her. Tara made herself smile, because Ashley looked so worried.

Ashley paid the cabdriver, who assured her they would have no difficulty getting back. They crawled from the cab, and Tara was certain that he was right—there was an abundance of tour buses and taxis parked on the grounds.

The cab they had noticed on their way was pulling in behind them. It seemed to slow, then continue—parking behind one of the tour buses.

“What do you make of that? The cab that was following us slowed down, then speeded up,” Tara said.

Ashley frowned. “Maybe we should just go back.”

“No. It’s broad daylight. Nothing can happen.”

“Maybe we should get inside. Either the store or the workshop.”

Tara shook her head. “I want to see who was in that cab.”

“How will you be able to tell? There are a dozen people getting off the buses.”

Tara shook her head. “Let’s just pretend we’re waiting for someone.”

“Okay.”

They stood there and waited. People came and went. Most of the visitors seemed to be from cruise ships; they were laughing, wearing ridiculous straw hats and gaily showing one another their purchases.

“How long should we wait?” Ashley asked.

Tara shook her head and shrugged with disgust. “This is stupid. Let’s just go.”

“All right. We’ll go in quickly.”

“No, we won’t! I’m not going to be neurotic. Let’s go watch them working, get a soda, and then we’ll shop and leave.”

“Tara, if you’re uncomfortable—”

“I’m not!”

“Okay,” Ashley said. “Let’s go, then.”

They went down a few steps to follow the path to the workshop. Tara loved to watch the glassblowers—it always seemed so amazing to her that the men could take such a mass of nothing, heat it, and then blow and mold it into a thing of beauty. They watched a young mustached man with wonderful showmanship craft an exquisite owl. They applauded with the others and moved around the outside of the protective railing to watch an older man, stout and grim, form an elegant fluted glass.

Tara stared across the room. The railing followed the outline of the building; the artisans could be viewed from either side.

She frowned, noticing an older man on the other side. He was tall and stately and white-haired, and she could have sworn that she had seen him somewhere else.

“Ashley—look casually across. Do you think that man could be the man in the cab? Does he look familiar to you?”

Ashley wasn’t exactly casual. She stared. The gentleman moved back into the crowd.

“He saw us looking at him, and he moved,” Tara said.

“Ooh, Tara! He did look familiar!”

“I saw him. And I saw his back on the ship the other day! He came in on our ship—that’s it! Curaço! When I was waiting for Rafe. I saw him walking away, down one of the hallways!”

“But Tara, I wasn’t there, and I saw him before and—oh!”

“What?”

“The restaurant! That’s the man who had lunch with Rafe the day that we met him!”

“His uncle—or so he said.”

“Tara! Why would he lie?”

“Why would his uncle be on the ship—why wouldn’t Rafe even bother to have him join us once?”

Ashley had no answer for that one. Tara pursed her lips grimly and started walking.

“What are you doing?” Ashley asked anxiously.

“I’m going to ask him!”

“Wait, Tara—”

“Just hurry! Or I’ll lose him!”

“Coming, coming,” Ashley muttered.

There suddenly seemed to be people everywhere. Tara determinedly moved through them, murmuring a dozen excuse-mes. She came out of the building, into the sunlight again, and saw him hurrying past the soda machines.

She was so busy watching him that she didn’t notice the tall, broad Latino she suddenly crashed into full force. He was young. He caught her arms, then gave