“They call that the concept of private property. It goes hand in hand with capitalism. And speaking of hand in hand . . .”
“Stop that! What do you think you’re doing?”
“At least I warmed my hands first.”
“And what I heard about those newspapers in Europe—somebody said you own them?”
“Did they?”
“Oh, God, don’t do that! They’ll hear us all over the house.”
“Let jealousy eat their hearts out.”
“You’re rich, my Carlos?”
“We say ‘comfortable.’ ”
“Oh, I am glad!”
“And I’m pleased you’re glad.”
“Now I’ll never have to worry that you say you love me only because of my money.”
“Actually, you have certain other attributes that attract me.”
“Oh, God, when you do that, I go crazy!”
“I’ve noticed.”
[TWO]
Double-Bar-C Ranch
Near Midland, Texas
0715 8 January 2006
Svetlana decided to let her Carlos sleep. She knew that he was exhausted both emotionally and physically, maybe especially physically. And not only because he’d done all that flying all over in such a short period of time.
After their last romp—whenever that had been; three, three-thirty, four in the morning—he had rolled onto his back, closed his eyes, and not moved since.
He hadn’t even stirred when the airplane landed, making enough noise to wake her from her sound sleep.
Svetlana did not know what time it was. She had been confused by the one-hour time difference between Fort Lauderdale and Pensacola, which were both in the same state. And then, when they had flown west in the Lear—which Carlos had said was even faster than his bigger Gulfstream—she had been confused again, because they had covered far more distance than inside Florida—and logically that would indicate several time zones—yet Midland and Pensacola shared the same time.
The only thing she knew for sure was that she desperately needed a cup of tea and maybe a piece of toast or something. Then she would come back to bed and go to sleep again, curled up against her Carlos.
Carefully curled up, so as not to wake him.
In this situation, not only would taking a shower be unnecessary, but the noise it would make would almost certainly wake him. When the water closet flushed, it sounded like a fire hydrant exploding.
That then raised the question of dress. It simply made no sense to get dressed to sneak quietly into the kitchen and make a cup of tea and maybe some toast, then come back to the bedroom only to get undressed again.
She went snooping, and the solution she found pleased her.
In the first closet she came to, she found a bathrobe hanging from a hook. It was old, well-worn and frayed, but it was wonderfully soft to the touch, and when she held it up and examined it she saw that it was clean, too. And then she was even more pleased to finally recognize it for what it was—from Carlos’s military college. It read “USMA” in large letters on the back, and there was an insignia, sort of a coat of arms, on the breast.
She put it on, and smiled warmly at the thought of wearing Carlos’s military college bathrobe.
She did not put on any underwear. She disliked putting on underwear once she’d taken it off, and it really didn’t make much sense to put on fresh linen without showering first, only to have to take it off ten minutes later.
She opened the bedroom door and looked and listened before finally going into the corridor. Then, barefoot, she ran down it until she reached the kitchen.
She listened at the door to make sure no one was inside, then quickly stepped inside, quietly clicking the door closed behind her.
Then she turned—and came face-to-face with three unfamiliar people who were sitting at the kitchen table.
One was a very large, swarthy man. The other two were women—a dark, attractive Latina a little younger than the man and an erect, silver-haired lady who appeared to be in her late sixties, maybe a little older.
Svetlana smiled awkwardly and nodded.
The older lady stood and smiled back. “Well, my dear. I see that Randy was right on the money. He said you were ‘a real looker.’ ”
Svetlana said nothing.
“I’m Alicia Castillo, my dear. Carlos’s grandmother.”
Svetlana said nothing.
Dona Alicia gestured. “And this is my other grandson, Fernando, and his wife, Maria.”
“You talked to Randy?” Svetlana suddenly said.
“As soon as he got back to Fort Rucker, he called me. He was quite excited to report that Carlos ‘has a girlfriend. A real looker.’ ”
Svetlana said nothing.
“He said your name was Svetlana—what a pretty name!—and he told me that my grandson was no longer alone, and wasn’t that great?”
“Randy is a nice boy, a very nice boy,” Svetlana said. “And you’re his great-grandmother?”
“He calls me Abuela.”
Svetlana sighed. “The bull is out of the pen, or whatever Carlos is always saying. I stupidly let it out when I met Randy. But now that I think about it, I am glad that I did.”
“The cow is out of the barn?” Fernando said.
“Yes,” Svetlana said.
“Randy knows?” Fernando pursued.
Svetlana nodded.
“Oh, my,” Dona Alicia said. “How did that go?”
“Very well. They had a long talk, and agreed to keep the secret.”
Fernando grunted. “It was bound to come out. It’s hardly going to be a ‘secret’ long.”
“Goddamn you, Fernando,” Maria said furiously. “I knew it all along, and you kept saying I had a dirty, suspicious mind.”
“Where is the Gringo?” Fernando asked.
“Fernando!” Dona Alicia said warningly.
“Who?” Svetlana asked.
“Carlos Guillermo Castillo, or Karl Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger, or whatever name he’s using today.”
“I let him sleep; he was exhausted.”
“I can imagine,” Maria said with a knowing look, then sipped her coffee.
Svetlana shrugged. “I guess that bull is out of the barn, too.”
“Is Estella aware of the sleeping arrangements?” Fernando asked.
Svetlana nodded.
He looked at Dona Alicia and grinned. “Well, that explains the missing housekeeper, doesn’t it, Abuela? She
