“Should we leave a note or something?” she asked. “Just in case we…run into trouble?”
“A note that says what? Gone after smugglers. Hold breakfast.?”
She made a face. “I see your point. Very well, let’s go.”
It was fortunate that both of them wore dark colors tonight. Carlos usually preferred darker shades, but Poppy seemed to favor white or brilliantly dyed gowns, which looked beautiful but tended to act like a beacon in the darkness. The deep green of tonight’s dress was helpful.
Outside, the night air had turned downright cold, with a stiff wind coming out of the west. The swells would be high tonight. Carlos could hear the breakers even up here at the top of the cliff.
He put a hand out to stop Poppy from walking further, and looked out toward the sea. The moon was higher in the sky and pure white now, creating a marble path along the water to the eastern horizon where it hovered in the sky, blotting out the nearby stars. In the gloaming, faint shapes could be seen. He sighted the smugglers’ ship first, for it was anchored not far out, and he even saw the rowboats heading into shore.
Then, further away, he saw another ship with a silhouette as familiar as a family member.
“Gracias a dios,” he muttered. He’d given instructions to Valentin to follow the unknown ship, and the Agustina was doing just that.
“What is it?”
“Reinforcements,” he said. “Hopefully we won’t need to signal them. Come on. Remember, we have to be invisible.”
“I’m twenty-one years old and still unmarried,” Poppy retorted. “I’m invisible by definition.”
When they began to descend the stairs to the beach, he looked over his shoulder. Poppy’s expression was tight with worry, and he almost asked if she wanted to go back to the house. He bit his tongue—he knew what her answer would be.
They reached the bottom of the staircase just before the smugglers’ boats hit the shallows, and they both moved to the huge boulder they’d hidden behind the first night.
Poppy peeked out, staring at the ship in the distance. “It looks like the one from earlier. The Seadragon. But I’m not positive.”
“Don’t worry. It’s more important to identify the men. If they’re who I think they are, I’ll know what to do next.”
“You’re not going to kill someone right here, are you?”
“Poppy! As if I’d execute a murderer with a lady present.”
“Well, remember that you did invite me to a duel, and Adrian’s opponent could have died.”
“That was different,” he muttered. “Anyway, I intend to turn him over to the proper authorities, assuming the proper authorities will listen.”
“And if they don’t?”
“There’s always the more direct option.” Then he put up his hand, signaling her to silence. The smugglers were coming.
Carlos and Poppy watched the proceedings as best they could from their hiding spot. Carlos studied each man and committed the details of their physical appearance to memory.
A few times, one of the smugglers would give a command to the crew, and he heard Poppy repeat the names that were shouted in a whisper.
The gang unloaded several boxes that appeared to be very heavy for their size, judging by the grunts and curses of the men who moved them.
Just then, a dog leapt out of one of the rowboats and jumped onto the shore, running and yapping excitedly.
“Ay, rayos,” Carlos muttered.
Sure enough, the dog suddenly went still, and then sniffed the air excitedly. It barked and began to trot toward the big boulder.
“What you got there, Wulf?” one smuggler said, following the dog’s path.
“If it’s a fucking Customs agent, shoot him in the head,” another man called, the words carrying all too clearly to Carlos and Poppy.
“They’re going to find us in a few seconds,” Carlos said. He pulled out a knife and handed it to her. “Here.”
