“How do you know?”
“I have friends in the intelligence community. We still talk, although not as much as we used to since I quit drinking alcohol. They were willing to do me a favor. You never know when you’ll need one in return. Last I heard, the Russians were in for the duration in an arctic wasteland — a frozen hell nobody could survive for long. The life expectancy in that camp is five years. Need I say more?”
“They never found the city?”
“No. If they had, they wouldn’t have returned to the mother country and fallen low enough to get arrested.” Jack finished his coffee. “All ancient history.”
“But you still changed your name, so the threat couldn’t have been completely neutralized.”
“Even if the two scumbags wound up in the gulag, there was about a two-year period when we didn’t know what would happen. It wasn’t worth the risk.”
“How do you know about the Russians?”
“They approached your father on that last trip and suggested joining forces. Actually, it was more like they threatened him if he didn’t help them. I was at the meeting. Let’s just say it got tense. Two things you need to know about your father: he was stubborn as a mule, and he didn’t take kindly to bullying. Like I said, it got tense.” Jack looked at Drake appraisingly. “I’d say you take after him in respect to being stubborn.”
Drake ignored the observation. “My father stared down two former KGB killers?”
“You’ve never seen anything like it. You’d have thought he was bulletproof. The man didn’t know what fear was, unfortunately. Guns came out, and looking back, it was only because they needed him alive that it didn’t escalate. Anyway, that’s how I knew I was still at risk after the expedition. Following that meeting, your father made me promise that your mother and Patricia would go into hiding if anything happened to him. Gave me notes to hand-deliver to them. It was like he knew…”
“I understand why the name changes. But I still don’t get how grown men could believe that some golden city has remained undiscovered for centuries.”
“Many believe the legend’s true. I still follow all the latest developments. In fact, after your dad died, an Italian researcher discovered a report by a Spanish missionary squirreled away in the Jesuit archives in Rome. I think that was 2001 or 2002. The report talked about a hidden city in the jungle overflowing with treasure — precious gems, gold, you name it. The Spaniard had been on good terms with the Indians and they’d shared the story with him, if not the exact location.”
“Do you believe it’s real?”
“You know, I started off skeptical and wound up a believer. Mostly because of your father’s conviction — that it was real, that he had a good idea of where it was, and that not only was it possible to find it, but that he’d be the one to do so. Does that mean it is real? Hell no. Would I bet the farm on it? No. I’m too old for that kind of gamble. But if you’re asking me whether somewhere in the jungle at the ass end of the world there are ruins of an Inca city with unimaginable treasure in it, the answer’s a cautious yes.”
“Cautious? Why? That hardly seems consistent with a commando’s nature.”
“You take enough risks when you’re a kid, you see enough, and you start to appreciate your own mortality. How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Yeah, I remember those days well. You’re only a couple of years older than Allie. When you’re young, you think you’re invulnerable and have all the time in the world to live out your life. Once you’re an old fart like me, you understand there are no guarantees, and if you see the sun rise tomorrow, it’s a gift, not a right.” Jack cleared his throat. “Now you can answer some questions for me. How do you know how to skip-trace well enough to find me? I’m pretty much unfindable. No criminal record, not even a traffic ticket. I’ve kept my nose clean. I live in the middle of God’s country. My nearest neighbor is a half mile down the road. How did you do it?”
Drake explained about his career as a bounty hunter and the painstaking process he’d gone through to locate him.
Jack appraised him with a knowing eye. “See? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Your father was convinced he could find Paititi — that he could find anything. Whether you know it or not, you’re the same.”
Drake shrugged, the praise uncomfortable. “It’s a living.”
“I’m sure it is. But given how smart your old man was, I’m surprised you’re not a doctor or a lawyer or something. How did you wind up in the bounty-hunting game?”
“It’s just one of those things you fall into.”
“Being a short-order cook or a car salesman’s the kind of thing you fall into. There aren’t many bounty hunters. Did you go to school?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a journalism degree that’s good for lining the bottom of a bird cage. It’s tough out there these days. No jobs. Newspapers folding right and left. Christ, there are lines for openings at fast-food restaurants. It’s crazy.”
“We’ve certainly made a mess of it, I’ll give you that.”
“So I got a tip from a buddy that his brother needed some help with his bail bond business, and after talking to him, I interned there for a few weeks — unpaid, of course — and learned the ropes. I nailed my first perp at month number three and pocketed six grand, and then another the next month and made four. Following month, took home ten. That was it for me.”
“Doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you’d be good at. No offense, but you’re not exactly the type to take on a three-hundred-pound fugitive.”
“You’d be surprised. I used to wrestle in school, and took some martial arts courses. I’m not saying it’s easy, but like I said, it puts food on the table.”
Allie entered, looking at her watch. “Speaking of food on the table, is he staying for dinner?” she asked Jack.
Jack eyed him. “Well? You heard the lady. You staying for dinner?”
Drake tried his most winning grin on Allie and got polite indifference in return. He decided not to let it faze him.
“I’d love to. You need any help in the kitchen?”
“I was just going to microwave a couple of TV dinners. I think I can handle it.” She spun on her heel and left.
Jack shook his head. “Don’t take it personally. She’s had a rough patch lately. Same as you. No jobs. A bum for an ex-boyfriend. So she’s a little angry.”
“No offense taken.”
“Atta boy. Now tell me about everything you’ve patched together about your dad, and I’ll try to fill in the gaps for you.”
Chapter Ten
Contrary to Allie’s verbal menu, dinner consisted of thick, juicy steaks and garlic-sautéed spinach that would have been the envy of any high-end restaurant. The dinner discussion centered primarily around Drake’s father and his exploits before leaving for South America, with Jack providing a running commentary throughout the meal. When they were done, Drake insisted on helping Allie with the dishes. He donned a pair of rubber gloves, stood next to her, and dutifully rinsed in the huge double farm sink after she washed.
“That was a wonderful meal, Allie. Thanks again,” he said as he ran water over a plain stoneware plate.
“You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.”
He placed a matching dish in the rack beside him. “What’s it like living on a farm?”
“A ranch. We have sixty head of cattle.”
“Is that how your father earns his living?”
“No, he’s retired. Collects social security and his army pension, and has some savings from his security-business days. He does all right. Has everything he needs — he’s driven the same truck since forever and has lived here for twenty years. Everything’s paid for, and he doesn’t want for anything. It’s not a bad situation.”