Saffire by Sigmund Brouwer Read Free Book Online Page B

you were doing it on your own accord. Don’t let anyone know you are doing this at our request. You’ll be provided with employment that will give you the freedom to travel the Zone. I’ll pull whatever strings I can unseen. That way I won’t be seen as interfering in local affairs.”
    “I’ll do it.”
    “Don’t forget you’ll need to be at the ranch two nights from now to ask questions of all my guests,” Cromwell said. “That way it will look like we are trying. All the girl needs to know is that someone is making an effort to find her mother. We don’t actually expect or want results. Just for the girl to stop pestering us so all of this can go away.”
    I slowly turned my eyes to Cromwell. In my circles, fancy clothes and a bank account in the millions did not make a man. Theodore Roosevelt had learned that within days of becoming part of our community in the Dakotas.
    I’m not sure what Cromwell saw in my eyes, but I guessed it reflected my utter scorn of him.
    He recoiled slightly and tried to recover his bravado by hissing at Goethals, “You’d better be right about this man.”
    Cromwell stood, snapped his cigar to the floor, and spun away to make a dramatic exit, but on the custom heels he undoubtedly used to add height to his appearance, he twisted an ankle and almost lost his balance.
    He slammed the door on his way out.
    “I don’t like him either,” Goethals said a moment later. “But I need to dig a canal, and his influence on the isthmus is extraordinary. I’m a practical man, and he is much better to have as an ally than an enemy.”
    “Much as I respect the president and his office, that’s not why I’ll do this. I’ll stay to help the girl. I don’t intend to stay long, but while I’m here I won’t be doing it just for appearance.”
    “Fair enough. Mr. Miskimon will arrange for your accommodations and whatever else you need.”
    I gathered my hat and valise and stood.
    “One last thing,” Goethals said. “Satisfy my curiosity. The man who broke your nose with a single punch. How did he fare in the fight?”
    “She.”
    “She?”
    “Not a he. A she. I should immediately have seen a doctor about it, but at the time I didn’t think a woman’s punch could do so much damage.”
    “A woman.” Goethals paused. “I have to ask. Did you hit her back?”
    I put on my hat. “Nope. That was another reason I didn’t get around to seeing a doctor until it was too late. About two hours after she broke my nose, I married her.”
    I tipped my hat, lifted my valise, and walked out through the waiting room. I looked for the girl, but she was gone.

“R ichmond,” I said. “Right? That’s your accent.”
    I didn’t walk much. That’s what horses were for. Still, I wasn’t yet forty, I had long enough legs, and after years of ranch work, I didn’t carry fat, so it would have been reasonable to expect that I’d have no problem keeping up with a slightly shorter man close to my age.
    But heat and humidity were working against me, and I found myself behind Miskimon’s shoulder at a brisk pace through Culebra. I toted my valise, but he carried a briefcase, so the handicaps were nearly equal. Was he was trying to make a point, or did the man always walk this fast?
    “Richmond then,” I said.
    With no answer coming from Miskimon, I just kept pace and kept my mouth shut. Normally, I was the taciturn one, but Miskimon was proving to be the master.
    Culebra, on a plateau of the ridge, was laid in grids and dominated by ICC houses, most of them newly built to keep up with the influx of workers.
    “ICC hotel,” Miskimon said as we walked past the square three-story structure boasting verandas on all sides. Its white paint was gleaming in the heat. “You’ll eat there. Dinner is served from five thirty to seven thirty. As for evening pursuits, the sale of liquor is illegal in the Zone on Sunday. Nor will you find any women of ill repute.”
    “Poor memory?”
    “I don’t forget