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"You're not keeping me in the dark." She dropped her plate into the sink where it clattered. "Whatever Emilio has to tell you, I want to hear."
"You already know what he has to tell me. You heard it all from him six months ago before you hired me."
She hunched over the counter, her hair slipping over her shoulder. "I want to be there when you find out. You might start remembering. You might start remembering something about Gabe."
"I work alone, Lola."
"Really?" She snorted. "How do you even know that? How do you know you don't have partners somewhere? I can be your new partner."
Her words caused a jolt to his brain, and his coffee sloshed in his cup. Partners? He'd never thought of that before. It sounded right. It felt right.
"It's not necessary." It had probably cost Lola enough to ask a favor from one of her father's associates. She didn't have to relive that.
She smacked the counter. "It is necessary for me, Jack. Besides, once Emilio learns Eduardo Famosa's daughter wants to see him, he'll be more likely to let us in. I'm your golden ticket."
Who was he to argue with a golden ticket?
An hour later, Lola swung her car into an underground parking structure in Miami's financial district. She snatched the parking ticket from the machine and tucked it into her purse. "Emilio's office validates."
"What business is Diaz in?"
Lola shrugged as she eased into a parking slot. "Real estate, property management."
What business did a property manager have with a hostage negotiator? Did Diaz have connections to the CIA? Jack glanced at Lola and decided to keep a lid on his questions...for now.
He followed her into the building, taking a deep breath of clean air after the exhaust fumes in the parking structure. The slick elevator whisked them up to the tenth floor a lot faster than the elevator in Lola's building could've managed it.
Lola stopped in front of a door with gold lettering on the front: Diaz and Diaz Property Management. Tapping the sign, Lola said, "Property Management," as if she had something to prove.
Nodding, Jack pushed open the door and ushered Lola through first. Knots tightened in his belly. Would Diaz be able to tell him something that would lead him home? And why did the thought of discovering his true identity gnaw at him?
A young woman with flashing dark eyes and cherry-red lipstick looked up from her computer monitor. "Can I help you?"
Jack opened his mouth, but Lola nudged his back and stepped in front of him. "Is Mr. Diaz in?"
The woman's gaze trailed over him and then flicked back to her computer screen. "Do you have an appointment?"
"No, but can you tell him Lola Famosa is here to see him?"
The receptionist widened her eyes and then her heavily mascaraed lashes swept down. "He's on a conference call right now, Dr. Famosa, but I'll let him know you're here."
"Thank you." Lola's lips tilted up in an encouraging smile she might bestow on one of her patients, and the receptionist clicked a few keys on her computer.
The woman obviously knew about Lola, who seemed to be a minor celebrity in the Cuban community. While Lola shunned most things associated with her father, she didn't seem to be above using the family name to get what she wanted. Jack didn't judge her for that, especially since she wanted the same thing he wanted right now.
The receptionist typed several more words and waited, hands hovering over the keyboard. One more response and she swiveled around to face them. "Go right in."
Jack took two steps forward and pushed open the door to the inner sanctum of Diaz's office.
The well-dressed man behind the desk rose, his smile dying on his face when confronted by Jack. Diaz braced his hands on his desk and jerked his chin toward the door. "Close it, Lola."
When she snapped the door behind her, Diaz let out a long breath. "Jack Coburn. I heard you were dead."
"Much exaggerated." Jack spread his arms wide. "But I need answers or I will be dead."
Diaz's dark, bushy eyebrows shot up to his bald pate. "What's this about, Lola?"
"Jack has amnesia. He needs your help." She extended a hand. "Gabe needs your help, Emilio."
Diaz narrowed his eyes and then glanced down at the red light blinking on his phone. "I have to finish this conference call. Meet me across the street at that coffee place, Havana Grounds. I'll be there in ten minutes."
