"I'm serious. I know, it's . . .a lot. But Victoria made the appointment. And technically, this is my job while I'm here. I guess I could make an excuse not to go. But I don't know what I'd say to Victoria when she asks about the appointment. And shewillask."
"No, there's no reason not to go. I can jump on WhiteRock's secure Wi-Fi at The Mandeville and monitor mycameras from my phone. The Mandeville is the safest place on the island. My team is there if we need them." He walked over to Nutmeg and stroked his fur. "We wouldn't want the poor guy to go without his aromatherapy whatever."
"It's a lavender-infused aromatherapy steam wrap," she said.
"Of course it is."
An hour later they were sitting at a restaurant at The Mandeville.
Nash took a sip of his water. "Knox says this place is amazing."
Lena looked at the menu. "Everything looks delicious."
"I'm sorry Jason, Knox, and Allie can't join us. They're here. Upstairs. But too many people know they work for WhiteRock. Hanging out with them could damage our cover."
"Makes sense. I'd like to meet them sometime. Theysound nice."
He hoped to introduce her to them under better circumstances. After Cassidy was safe. And Emil was in jail. But he kept that to himself. "Knox said something about coconut pancakes. Apparently, they serve them all day. It's the house specialty."
She laughed at that. "Okay, good to know."
"Knox talks about food a lot, if you haven't noticed."
"Your friends sound interesting, or coworkers, I guess."
"They're both."
"I'm jealous. I don't think I've ever worked with friends before."
His phone vibrated on the table.
"Sorry," he said. "I should—"
"No, of course, go ahead."
He looked at the screen. He had a new notification of motion from his cameras at the estate. Someone was walking up to the flower bed, to the safecracker's shallow grave.
He squinted at the small image on his phone. His pulse ticked up. He'd have to send the file to Jason to be sure. But the man removing the dead safecracker from the flower bed looked very much like the man who started the fire on the pier.
"What's wrong?" asked Lena.
"I need to send something to Jason. I'll explain in a minute."
He sent the file with a short message. "ID this guy ASAP. Thanks."
He set down his phone. Lena's worried face twisted something inside him. He wished they could go back to talking about pancakes.
"Something's happened," she said. "Tell me."
She was looking more concerned by the second. Her imagination could probably come up with something worse than the truth. He needed to explain. Carefully. And quietly.
"One of the cameras at the house." He purposely sounded casual and took a sip of his water before he continued, so as to not draw attention from the other restaurant patrons.
Lena looked anything but casual. "What did it see?"
"I'll tell you," he said. "But we don't want to call attention to ourselves. Act like we're discussing the menu, okay?"
She froze for a few seconds while she processed that. She glanced around. "Yes. Sorry. You were saying?"
