“Thees ees all?” Ignacio questioned Rafe, motioning with his gun barrel for him to raise his hands back up. “Where ees all the gold?”
“I don’t have any gold.”
“You spent it all?” Before Rafe could answer, he turned to Helen. “Give me the ring.”
She followed the direction of his stare, realizing he wanted her engagement ring. She started to balk, but Rafe signaled her with a brisk shake of his head not to rile the strange “bandit.”
Ignacio turned the diamond over several times, studying it. Then, apparently satisfied that the ring had some worth, he slid it halfway up his pinky finger and smiled broadly at them both. “It ees unfortunate that you carry no gold with you, but thees ees still our lucky day. You will bring us many gold coins when we collect the reward for your capture, Senor Angel.”
“What reward?” Rafe asked.
Ignacio’s thick eyebrows rose in surprise. “You did not know? There ees a five-hundred-dollar reward for your capture — dead or alive.”
“You must have me mixed up with some other guy.”
“No, I would know the Angel anywhere. The most notorious desperado in all California.”
“Des… desperado?” Rafe sputtered out, his arms still upraised.
Helen’s arms began to ache from their awkward position. She just wished this stupid game, or dream, or whatever it was, would end. More than anything, she wanted to go home and soak in a hot bath and forgot she’d ever met Rafael Santiago.
Rafe took a deep breath to compose himself. “Listen, I know some people think lawyers are crooks,” he said, scowling at Helen’s snort of agreement, “but I’m not a bandit.”
“No, no, no,” Ignacio said, wagging his gun in Rafe’s face. He smiled, displaying two chipped front teeth, probably from biting on bullets. “You cannot fool me. Everyone knows you been robbing banks and wealthy rancheros ever since gold was discovered at Sutler’s Fort two years ago.”
“Gold? Sutler’s Fort? Two years ago?” Rafe looked at Helen, his brow furrowed. She shrugged, equally confused.
An odd expression swept Rafe’s face then. He lowered one arm and hit the side of his head with the heel of his hand as if to clear his muddled brain. “Are you trying to say this is 1850?”
“Si. Of course, amigo.”
“Is this Candid Camera?” Rafe asked suddenly, turning to scan the trees surrounding the clearing. When Allen Funt failed to slep forth, he narrowed his eyes. “Is this one of those movie sets, like a sequel to The Three Amigos?”
“A move-hee? What ees that?”
Rafe exhaled loudly wilh exasperation. “My name is Rafael Santiago. Captain Rafael Santiago. And this is Major Helen Prescoll.”
“Major? A woman soldado?” Ignacio burst out laughing and elbowed one of the other grinning bandits in the ribs. “Major? Heh heh heh! Do not try lo deceive us, senor.”
Helen lowered her hands and pointed to the oak leaf on her shoulder. “I am Major Helen Irving Prescott, and you men are under military arrest.”
Ignacio made a rude kissing sound at Helen, commenting, “Esa mujer esta pendejada,” al the same time twirling his forefinger in a circle near his head. Then he indicated with the barrel of his gun that Helen should raise her hands back up.
She decided not to argue.
“We know she ees the famous Elena,” Ignacio told Rafe impaliently. “Do not think to keep her corkscrewing only to yourself.”
“Corkscrewing?” Rafe and Helen asked.
Uncaring of the order to keep her arms raised, Helen lowered her hands and braced them on her hips, glaring at each of them.
“Esa senorita tiene figura de la primera,” Ignacio remarked to Rafe. The bandit rolled his eyes, which roamed lewdly over her body.
Rafe grinned from ear to ear, then nodded in agreement “What did he say?” she asked.
Rafe still grinned — smirked actually. She barely resisted the temptation to whack him on the head.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Of course, I do.”
“Helen, believe me — ”
“Tell me, damn it.”
Rafe brealhed deeply, then told her, “Loosely translated, Ignacio said, ‘That lady is built like a brick shithouse.’ ”
“Liar,” she hissed.
“Trust me,” Rafe said with a wink.