of 'Feelings' sung in Portuguese.
'Even without understanding the lyrics, this song sucks. If there's a hell, Muzak would play it for eternity.' He narrowed his eyes, pleading his case. 'At the risk of sounding like a high maintenance guy, can you change to another station?'
'Finally, we agree on something.' She scanned the local radio stations until she found an instrumental jazz piece, then she directed his attention to her computer. 'Check this out.'
Jasmine hit a few keys and replayed what she had already seen. Coming into view from the lower left-hand side of the camera frame, two waiters in hotel uniforms pushed a food cart through the deserted level eight of the parking garage.
'Heavy load. Takes two to push.' After setting his coffee down on a table, Christian rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, his eyes glued to the computer monitor. 'I'm impressed. Full service hotel, catering food to the garage.'
She pointed again. 'See the dark blue van at the end of the row? Those men standing around it? Just as I remembered. Five of them took my Nicky.'
Hearing the crack in her voice, Christian turned to catch Jasmine's eyes welling in tears. She coughed and cleared her throat, wiping a quick finger across her cheek. To give her time to compose herself, he shifted his attention back to the digital recording. The kidnappers loaded his father into the back of the van and shoved a much lighter food cart against a wall of the parking garage. The men piled inside. The vehicle pulled out and headed toward the camera.
'The man driving looks like he's in charge.'
'Yes, he was.' She nodded. 'You tend to remember the man who held an AK-47 aimed at your head.'
'Did your informant know him?'
'Yes. He told me the guy used to work for the hotel, until four days ago. He went by the name of Rodrigo Santo. The other one dressed in uniform didn't work here, according to my guy. Santo must have given him the monkey suit.'
'Hell, the bastard isn't likely to use his real name. Kidnapping an American while on the clock? Not a smart move.'
'Kidnapping Nicky is not the work of an intelligent man. Who would do such a thing if they knew who he was?'
'Maybe he didn't. Maybe all he saw was opportunity. But it makes sense this was an inside job, someone working at the hotel.' He raised his hand and nudged his chin toward the TV. 'Freeze that, right there.'
Christian stared at the face of the native man who kidnapped his father, memorizing every detail. He searched for compassion in the dark eyes but found none.
'Can you get a print of his face?'
'Already done. My contact was most obliging.' She pulled out a handful of hard copies printed of the digital frame. Fuzzy but workable.
'Good. Did anyone find it odd that Santo quit like that?'
Shifting her weight on the sofa, Jasmine crossed her legs and leaned closer.
'Well, technically, he never gave notice. When he didn't show up for work, the hotel sent someone to check his local address. He had a dingy little motel room he rented by the week. He'd cleared out, walked away from his life here in Cuiaba. Everything gone, no forwarding.'
'He didn't collect his paycheck? That's unusual in this economy.'
'Apparently, he's got a bigger payoff in mind.'
Christian glared at the face frozen on the screen. 'So no trail to follow.'
'Not exactly.' She smiled and winked. 'My source told me the man kept to himself. But he was very traditional in his beliefs, very old school. He talked about his people like he belonged to a tribe.'
'Not much to go on. I hoped the reward would jump-start things.'
But the gleam in Jasmine's eye told him she had more. She reminded him of a slick black jaguar on the prowl. The woman sure enjoyed her vocation.
'Perhaps it has. Ever since our slithering care package on the balcony, I racked my brain trying to remember someone Nicky and I met at a local fundraiser a while back. Then the name came to me. A shop owner, Bianca Salvador. She owns Guia Do Espirito, catering to the lunatic fringe of Cuiaba. The place sells herbs, charms, and other ritualistic items.' Jasmine smiled. 'She performs rituals for many of the indigenous people in the area. Perhaps she can help us take the next step to finding Nicky.'
He shrugged and nodded. 'She's a local and knows the area. Plus, she might shed light on our voodoo welcome wagon. Sounds solid.'
'I could talk to her while you—'
'Oh, no. We're doing this together,' he insisted.
'That makes no sense. We can cover more ground if we split up . . .'
Christian finished his coffee while he listened to the logic of her argument, but eventually he interrupted her.
'Look, someone waited for me to let my guard down last night. And I almost got strained through the grillwork of a sedan, a human lube job. We're stickin' together.'
She narrowed her eyes, not used to taking orders. 'I'm touched by your concern, but as you know, I can take care of myself.'
'No way. Hallmark doesn't make a card for 'Sorry I got you killed.' Ain't happenin' on my watch. We're doing this together. No arguments.'
'I'll remind you of that the next time you play a solo game of dodge ball with four thousand pounds of steel.'
The woman had a point.
To change the subject, he asked, 'Did last night's surveillance show how the damned snake got to the penthouse balcony? Some bastard gained access outside the hotel.'
'No, I found that quite strange.' She shook her head, a troubled look on her face.
'With what we're paying for this damned room, you'd think it'd buy us a snake-free zone. Something like that wouldn't materialize out of thin air, complete with flamin' candles and a dead chicken. We just didn't catch it on surveillance, that's all.'
'Yes, I suppose so.'
The doubt in her voice caused him to turn and face her. 'Don't tell me you believe in this voodoo stuff.'
'No, don't be silly.' She shrugged and waved him off with her hand, not very convincingly. 'I like to think we make our own fortune, good and bad.'
'Not sure what that says about Charboneau. Let's hope his luck turns for the better real soon.'
Jasmine nodded, avoiding his eyes. After a long moment of silence, she finally said, 'So what's your plan?'
Christian looked at his watch. 'It might be a little early to make a call on the shop owner. The place won't be open at this hour. Let's hit the genetics facility first.'
'Why? We have a better lead chasing down this shop owner. The genetics angle is a complete waste of time, something Nicky doesn't have.'
Christian knew by her reaction that the genetics lab was a taboo subject. That only made him want to know more about it.
'You're coverin' up his involvement with the facility, aren't you?' By her glare, he knew he'd hit a nerve. 'Well, guess what? If we don't find your precious Nicky in time, his connection to that so-called genetics front will be a moot point. I think you need to get your priorities straight.'
'Look, we have to work together, but I'm beginning to think you don't trust me.' From righteous indignation to a coy smile, Jasmine ran hot and cold like a water spigot.
'Oh, yeah? Can't imagine where you got
'Point taken.' With a raised eyebrow, she crossed her arms over her chest. 'So what's your angle on this genetics thing?'
'Just feeling the need for a little education on genetics research, that's all. Let's check out your employer's
