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Jones learns his new job, designated fuck toy.

His wife of many years had died and he wanted companionship. We had become very close. He was a nice man, respectful to his friends, treating them like family. But as warm as he was to his friends, he was equally harsh to those he didn't like.

Through him, I sent a letter for Padre Ramirez, telling him what had happened in Cabo as I knew it. The padre had written back quickly, telling me that I needed to act, not so much for Enrique, but for myself. He was right. My own guilt was eating away at me, making me feel helpless.

Bernardo helped me with contacting a good attorney in Cabo, Se__or Alamondro. I phoned him and told him of Enrique's innocence and my intentions. We settled terms and he hired a detective to quietly complete his own investigation into the facts of the case. Alamondro had sent me only one update in the months that followed and that one was simple. "Found evidence to support our case. Will contact you soon. It's looking very positive."

In the back of my mind while I completed business and visited friends, I had wondered what might happen. I wasn't expecting the message in Amsterdam.

I must have drifted in and out of sleep during the trip to Sam's ranch because before I knew it, we rolled over a cattle guard and beneath an arched sign on a dirt road. Out in the countryside, everything was dark. Only the occasional flash of lightning showed much of anything. Trees were everywhere. Sam pulled the truck up to a door with a light above it and jumped out. I sat there for a moment by myself, watching the wipers brush the water away, wondering how I was going to get to Baja.

My door opened and Sam reached in for me. "It's okay, I can walk."

"Please let me. It's really muddy out here." I nodded and he carried me inside. He put me down and turned on a light. I was in a laundry room. My carry-on was at my feet. Sam came back with a couple of towels.

"Here, you can dry yourself a little with this." He sat, taking off his dirty boots. "Why don't you leave your shoes and sweater here and I'll take you to your room?" I followed Sam into the house as the wind and rain drummed against the outside. In the dark, I couldn't make out much, but finally a light flicked on.

"Up here," said Sam, climbing some stairs. "You can stay here tonight. It's a guestroom, and I think there's a robe in the bath. Just a sec." Sam disappeared into the dark room, eventually turning on a light. Before me was a huge bed on a pedestal, complete with drapery at its head. Arabian carpets covered a red Spanish tiled floor and an antique armoire almost covered one wall. Sam flicked on another light.

"This here's the bath. I know you must be exhausted. Do you need anything else?" Still drenched himself, he was waiting on me.
I turned to him and smiled. "No, thanks, Sam. You've been an angel." I approached him and kissed his cheek. He waddled out of the room backwards and closed the door in a kind of "Aw shucks, ma'am" manner. It's always been a funny place, Texas. Even as strangers, some people there would give you the shirt off their backs while others will bet against each other on stealing it.

I was exhausted. I went to the bath. The floor tile continued inside and decorative tile trimmed the shower and bath. Marble countertops glistened against the huge mirrors hung above the sinks. I peeled my clothes off and started a hot shower. Afterwards, I donned a big white fluffy robe hanging on the wall. It was too big, obviously intended for someone of Sam's stature, but I rolled up the sleeves and let the bottom drag the floor. I checked my carry-on and found everything intact. My watch read a quarter of six...that would be almost one in Amsterdam now. I wondered if Suzette was there yet.

I pulled back the covers, threw off the robe and turned out the light. As I slid into the sheets, the room trembled with a parting roll of thunder. I don't even recall having my head hit the pillow.

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