He stepped to the far corner. A broken crate leaned against the wall, its slats loose. Gabriel nudged it aside and froze.
A scrap of gray cloth lay caught against the earth. Small. Torn clean.
He lifted it.
“Glove?” Barrington asked.
“Wrist lining,” Gabriel said. “Wool. Torn, not cut. Caught on theedge when he moved too fast.”
“You think he was nervous?”
“I think he was interrupted.”
Outside, the wind shifted. A gull shrieked right before he heard the soft scrape of boots on gravel.
Gabriel looked toward the door and saw Leticia.
She walked carefully, as though not to disturb anything. Her eyes met his once. She didn’t speak.
He didn’t ask why she was alone.
Leticia stepped through the door, pausing just inside while her eyes adjusted. Light from the sea rimmed her in pale gold. Gabriel straightened, the scrap of cloth disappearing into his pocket.
She paused just inside the doorway, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. Gabriel straightened from the corner, the bit of cloth still in his hand. He let it slip into his coat pocket as she approached.
She glanced toward Barrington, who offered a brief nod and turned his attention to the lintel with exaggerated courtesy.
Gabriel watched her carefully. “You came alone.”
“There was too much breeze near the cloisters,” she said. “And my aunt had questions for the guide.”
His mouth tugged faintly. “And you decided the shed was the more pleasant company?”
A flicker of dry amusement touched her lips. “For the moment.”
A pause stretched, deliberate, not awkward. He didn’t press.
Leticia took a step forward, trailing her fingers along the edge of a splintered crate. The wood was damp beneath her glove. She withdrew her hand, flexing her fingers as if shaking off the cold.
“There’s nothing much here,” she said.
“Not anymore,” Gabriel replied.
He watched her, but gently. Not as an investigator might a suspect, but as a man reads a map drawn in invisible ink.
She turned toward the open door again, letting the light brushacross her shoulder.
“Someone used this place,” she said. “Recently.”
It wasn’t a question.
Gabriel nodded. “A quick stop. A handoff, maybe. Or a signal that wasn’t answered.”
Leticia stayed where she was, back to him, eyes fixed on the ridge.
“There’s a stone by the cloisters,” she said at last. “Covered in moss. A bird, inside a diamond.”
He stepped closer, slow and sure.
