Bossa Novas, Bikinis, and Bad Ends Read online

  “Call me as soon as you get to the airport,” Alex said.

  “Thank you, Alex,” I said. “See you soon.”

  When I hung up, I said to Ramon, “Get to the Rio airport as fast as you can. We’ll get the next plane to New York. They run every couple of hours. My friend Alex will pick us up at the airport, and you’ll start right away. He said he would find you a place to stay. He said any friend of mine was a friend of his.”

  “I should call Yasmin and tell her what I’m doing,” he said.

  Oh, dear God.

  “Yasmin will never let you do that,” I said, taking a deep breath and praying I could convince him not to call her. “You know too much about what she has done. Better get to the airport and out of Brazil as fast as you can.”

  “It will only take a minute,” he said. He dialed a number and waited.

  “Yasmin? It’s Ramon.” He continued the conversation in Portuguese, and I assumed he was telling her about my plan to take him to New York to a fabulous new job. My heart sank. I knew what her reaction would be.

  Her answer was so loud I could hear it standing next to him. A long rapid fire of Portuguese words shot through the phone. I was sure she was telling him not to go to New York with me.

  When he hung up he glared at me. “I almost fell for it,” he said. “I don’t know why I thought I could trust you. I think the police will be waiting for me at the airport. We’re going in the opposite direction. I’m taking you to Yasmin. She’ll know what to do with you. Don’t try any more tricks, senhora.”

  “Ramon,” I said, desperately trying to talk him into believing me. I knew it was a lost cause. Yasmin had put the fear of God into him. “Ramon, there won’t be any police at the airport. My friend has a job waiting for you. It pays a lot. If you stay here, you’ll get a little money, but nothing like you can make in New York.”

  “How did you think I could get on that plane without a passport?” he asked. I was afraid he’d think of that.

  “I’d tell them you are my assistant and that you would fly on my passport. People do it all the time.” Who would believe that? Certainly not me. And as it turned out, not Ramon either.

  “I’m not that stupid,” he said. “I’d be in jail before I finished checking in at the airport. We’re going to meet Yasmin—now!”

  He started the car and accelerated to a high speed before I could get the door open and escape. He would have caught me anyway. He was a large, strong man who would have intercepted me in no time. I’d have to think of something else.

  We sped along the highway. There didn’t seem to be much hope. Once we met Yasmin and Natalia, they’d be sure to get rid of me this time. Somehow, I would have to get away from Ramon before we got there.

  “How much farther, Ramon?” I asked.

  “Not far. Another twenty minutes, maybe,” he said.

  Twenty minutes. We were going at least eighty miles an hour. I couldn’t jump out of the car. I closed my eyes.

  Then I heard a sound that was sweeter than the song of angels, even sweeter than a cat’s meow. A police siren. A siren that got louder and louder as it caught up with us. Ramon speeded up even more. I looked out the back window. The police car was right on our tail. I could see the officer’s face grimly intent on keeping pace with Ramon. I opened my purse and pulled out a piece of paper and scrawled HELP across it. I held it up to the window. Please let that policeman know at least this much English.

  He didn’t change expression or acknowledge my note, so I had no way of knowing whether he understood my message. I made a scared face and put my hands together in prayer mode so he would know I was asking for help. I hoped. He didn’t respond, but I knew he was concentrating on catching up to Ramon.

  Ramon swerved suddenly and took the next exit ramp. The police car was right behind him. The turn was so abrupt I fell on the floor of the car. I got back on the seat and saw that we were in another small town with narrow winding streets, forcing Ramon to slow down. When he did, the police car sped up and drove in front of him so he had to stop.

  The officer, his face angry, rapped on the window. Ramon pulled out a gun. Before he could fire a shot, I hit his hand with my bag as hard as I could. He dropped the gun, the policeman yanked open the door, and grabbed Ramon and handcuffed him.

  “Oh, Officer,” I said. “Help me.”

  He kept his gun pointed at Ramon and said something to me in Portuguese.

  I remembered Lucas’s language lesson.

  “Você fala inglês, senhor?” I said, pretty sure it meant “Do you speak English?”

  “A little bit, senhora,” he said. “Who are you?”

  “Pat Keeler. American. This man kidnapped me.”

  “Kidnapped?” the officer said, looking bewildered.

  “Call Captain Pereira in Rio,” I said, using the universal sign for making a phone call—two fingers next to the ear.

  “Ah,” he said. “Captain Pereira. I call.”

  I nodded vigorously and smiled. “Sim,” I said, trying to pronounce it correctly, sort of like “sing” in English. “Yes.”

  Still watching Ramon who was bent over the hood of the car, his hands handcuffed behind him, the officer dialed a number and after a minute, said, “Senhor Pereira?” Then he spieled off a whole story in Portuguese about the present situation. He looked at me, said “Sim” into the phone, and then listened to Pereira’s answer.

  When he hung up, he said, “Pereira comes.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” I said. I tried to tell him about Yasmin and Natalia, but he couldn’t understand me. I knew it would be at least an hour before Pereira could get here and by then, my two murderesses would be long gone. They would know something was wrong when Ramon didn’t show up and they couldn’t reach him. How could I get Ramon to lead this officer to his friends?

  My only hope was that when Yasmin called him, the policeman could force Ramon at gunpoint to find out where she was, and the officer would capture them. But how could I explain this to the policeman?

  I couldn’t. I pulled out my own phone and called Pereira. I had him on speed dial since my night in the favelas. He answered right away. I explained what I was trying to do. He asked to speak to the local police officer again and told him my plan. The police officer nodded, said, “Sim, sim,” and hung up.

  Now all we had to do was wait for Ramon’s phone to ring. I reached into the car and retrieved it from the front seat where Ramon had left it.

  Nothing happened. Five minutes, ten minutes. Then the ring.

  The police officer, whose name tag identified him as Joao Silva, put the gun against Ramon’s head and told him to say hello and ask for their location.

  “Alo,” Ramon said into the phone. The policeman clicked off the safety on the gun. Ramon, I hoped, asked his listener for their location then handed the phone to Officer Silva. Silva listened, said nothing, then hung up.

  Silva said to me, “I call other police.” He made another call, his gun still against Ramon’s head.

  Within minutes, several police cars joined our officer’s car. He handed Ramon over to two of them who took him away, I hoped forever.

  Officer Silva motioned to one of the other policemen. “He speak English,” he said to me. He explained what I was doing there briefly to the other officer and I heard the word Pereira in there.

  “Senhora,” Silva said. “He take care of you. My men. I. We get bad girls.”

  I almost laughed. It was so funny to me to hear Yasmin and Natalia, the two most dangerous women I’d ever met in my life, two killers, called “bad girls,” as if they had not done their homework the night before.

  “My prayers go with you,” I said. I don’t know whether he understood me or not, but he shook my hand and got back in his car. The others lined up behind him. Let them get those two, I prayed. I seemed to be talking to God a lot lately for a not-so-religious person.

  The English-speaking policeman said, “Come, senhora, I will take you to a safe place
to wait for Captain Pereira. Perhaps you would like something to eat. Or some tea or coffee?”

  “Oh, thank you,” I said. “I would like that very much.”

  He took my arm and led me to a coffee shop nearby. “My name is Caio Tiago,” he said. I ordered an omelet and some tea. He sat down beside me and said, “You’re American, aren’t you?” I nodded. “My mother is American,” he said.

  “I wondered how you spoke English so well,” I said.

  “As you can imagine, I’m very fond of Americans,” he said. “Tell me how you got mixed up in all this. What are you doing getting kidnapped in the middle of Brazil? A nice woman like you.”

  I tried to explain the whole mess to him, but it was such a weird and mixed-up story that I despaired of his understanding half of it.

  “You must hate Brazil after going through all of that,” he said.

  “I don’t exactly hate it,” I said. “But I must admit I won’t mind going home tomorrow. I live in a little town in New Jersey and most people there just die of natural causes.”

  He laughed. “Where in New Jersey?” he asked.

  “Champlain,” I said. “It’s a very small town.”

  “My mother grew up in Madison,” he said. “Have you ever heard of it?”

  “It’s practically next door,” I said. “Tell your mother she raised a very nice man.”

  He smiled. “She’d love to meet you,” he said. “I’m sorry you won’t be here longer.”

  “I’d love to meet her too,” I said. “But I need to get back to Rio. My friends probably think I’m dead.”

  “Why don’t you call them?” he said.

  I was in such a state I hadn’t even thought of calling Tina and telling her I was all right. I assumed Pereira would have told her, but I thought I’d better make sure.

  Tina answered on the first ring.

  “Pat!” she said, her voice betraying her worry. “Where are you? Are you all right? Oh, sweetie, we’ve been frantic.”

  “You’ll never believe what happened,” I said. “I don’t even believe it myself. Tina, I’m in the middle of nowhere, in some little town between Rio and São Paulo, talking to a nice police officer with an American mother – from Madison!”

  I knew I was babbling on without making much sense, but I couldn’t help it.

  “How are you getting back here?” Tina asked.

  “Pereira is coming to get me and Yasmin and Natalia. If they don’t get away again. Those two are the slipperiest weasels I’ve ever met.”

  “Well, get back here as soon as you can,” she said. “We miss you.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

  “Bye, hon,” she said. “See you soon.”

  I hung up and my officer friend patted my hand.

  He told me more about his mother. How she had come to Rio for Carnaval when she was young, met his father, fell in love, and has lived in Brazil ever since. I told him about Denise and David. Before I knew it, we had talked for a couple of hours and a police car pulled up outside the café. It was Chief Pereira. He grabbed my hand when he came in and then, surprisingly, gave me a hug. I just wasn’t suspecting a hug from the Chief of Police somehow.

  “Thank heavens you’re all right, senhora,” he said.

  “I don’t think I can take one more kidnapping, Captain Pereira,” I said. “Have you heard whether Officer Silva and his colleagues have captured Yasmin?”

  “I haven’t heard yet,” he said. “But I’m sure I will any minute. They can’t get away this time.”

  “I’ve heard that so many times before, I’m beginning to think they’ll never be caught.” I said.

  “This time we know where they are. As soon as I hear that they’ve been captured, I’ll take you back to Rio.”

  I ordered another cup of tea.

  Pereira’s phone rang. “This is it,” he said to me. “Olá.”

  He listened for what seemed forever, his face impassive. Why was it taking so long for them to tell him Yasmin and Natalia were caught and in jail? Because I always expect the worst, I held my breath when Pereira hung up.

  “What?” I said.

  He took my hand again. “Senhora, something unexpected, I’m afraid.”

  I covered my face with my hands. I cannot stand this. “Tell me,” I said.

  “Silva’s men captured Yasmin and Natalia and they were taking them back to Rio to jail, when Yasmin’s mother had a heart attack. They rushed her to the hospital. Yasmin pleaded with the officer to let her stay with her mother. There was so much confusion, they let her accompany her mother to the emergency room. Another car took Natalia back to Rio.”

  I knew what he was going to say next.

  “Yasmin got away, didn’t she?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” he said. “They made the mistake of leaving her alone in the hospital room with her mother. They didn’t think she would leave when her mother was in critical condition. But they underestimated Yasmin. In the few minutes they left the room, she managed to put on a hospital gown and a face mask and slip out of the hospital.”

  “Do you think she’ll go back to Rio?” I asked. I dreaded his answer.

  “I’m afraid so, senhora,” he said. “She has friends in the favelas and they’ll hide her there. The police are afraid to go in there anyway.”

  I couldn’t speak. The thought that she was free and could find me was too much.

  Pereira read my mind. He could see the fear on my face. “But we will guard you every minute, senhora. And you’re leaving tomorrow. She can’t get you again.”

  I didn’t believe him. “Could we go back to the hotel now, please, Captain Pereira? I need to be with my friends.”

  He took my hand. “Come. I’ll take you there now.”

  I said good-bye to Tiago. “I will pray for you, senhora,” he said.

  “Say hello to your mother for me,” I said. “And come see me if you ever come to New Jersey.”

  He kissed me on both cheeks and I left with Pereira.

  Pat’s Tip for Traveling with Friends: There’s

  nothing wrong with each of you going your

  separate way once in a while. You’re not

  joined at the hip.

  Chapter Eighteen

  God’s Gift

  When we got back to the hotel, it was late in the afternoon. My friends were waiting outside. I stumbled out of Chief Pereira’s car and into a group hug from all my Hoofers.

  “Thank God you’re all right,” Mary Louise said.

  “What happened?” Gini said.

  “You look terrible,” Janice said.

  “Come have tea,” Tina said.

  “I’ve had enough tea to last me a lifetime,” I said. “I need a drink.”

  “Oh, Pat, are you sure?” Tina said. Her pretty face showed concern for my jumping off the wagon.

  “It’s just temporary, Tina,” I said. “Don’t worry. One caipirinha won’t make me into a drinker again.”

  “She looks like she needs that drink,” Janice said. “Come on, Pat.”

  They led me into the Piano Bar, and I ordered a caipirinha.

  “We thought you were safe,” Gini said. “In your own room. Fast asleep. The next minute you were in some police station halfway between here and São Paulo. I think we need to put you on a leash.”

  “Would you please?” I said.

  “Nobody has told us anything,” Tina said. “We thought Yasmin was the killer. Then Pereira said you had been kidnapped by Natalia and Yasmin. Natalia! That ditzy little redhead who flibbets around here. Natalia. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “And Pereira said something about Ramon,” Gini said. “Our helpful, good driver Ramon. Always smiling, always so friendly. Pereira said that he grabbed you in the police station and was taking you to meet Yasmin and Natalia.”

  “And Yasmin’s mother,” I said. “Don’t forget her. It was because of her getting sick that I got away from them the first t
wo times. Unfortunately it was her heart attack that allowed Yasmin to escape again.”

  “What do you mean ‘escape again’?” Gini asked. “Go back. How did you get away from Ramon? Alex called me and said you phoned him and arranged for Ramon to go to the airport with you to fly to New York and then the police would arrest him at the airport. He promised Ramon lots of money to be a driver in New York or something.”

  “Right,” I said. “I thought it was all set. Alex was terrific, of course. He understood that I was in trouble and managed to con Ramon into agreeing to come to New York to drive for some huge amount of money.”

  “So what happened?” Gini asked.

  “We were about to go to the airport when Ramon decided he’d better call Yasmin. That was the end of that plan. She yelled at him that it was a trick and that he should bring me to them immediately.”

  “What did you do?” Tina asked. “Obviously you got away. How did you do it?”

  “Believe me,” I said, “I was totally out of ideas. It was Ramon who made the mistake that caught him.”

  “How?” Mary Louise asked.

  “He drove about eighty-five miles an hour so I couldn’t jump out of the car. I had just about decided there was nothing I could do. Then, all of a sudden, I heard a police siren and a police car was chasing him—for speeding, I guess. I don’t know why, but I didn’t ask any questions. Ramon turned off the highway into this little town and the policeman got him.”

  “So then what?” Janice asked.

  “The policeman—a lovely man—Officer Silva—wanted to help me but he didn’t speak much English, so I tried to explain to him that I had been kidnapped and Ramon knew where these two murderesses were and he had to find them and—”

  “He didn’t understand you,” Gini said.

  “Right.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I realized I should call Chief Pereira here and he would explain the whole thing to Senhor Silva in Portuguese,” I said. I looked at the Chief with gratitude. “He did, and I thought Yasmin and Natalia would finally be caught. Well, they were caught. But Yasmin got away. Of course she got away.”

  “How did she do that?” Tina asked.