“If it is my sister, she might not show up at the restaurant if she sees you there,” Liesel said. “She did ask me to come alone.”
“She knows who I am. I’m in the photo too,” Caspian reminded her. “But you’re right, I shouldn’t sit with you at the restaurant.”
He moved to the desk and grabbed a map of Port de Sóller, then spread it out on the bed. He tapped the location of the restaurant with his finger.
“You’re supposed to meet Sofie here. I’ll find a spot from where I can keep an eye on you.”
Liesel leaned over the map, studying the layout.
“There aren’t a lot of places where you’d have a good vantage point,” she said after a moment.
Caspian grunted. He’d come to the same conclusion. The restaurant was separated from the beach only by a pedestrian road and the tram tracks. Adjacent to it was a narrow street, Carrer d’Alaró, and beyond that, another restaurant. On the other side of Ses Oliveres was a private residence with an iron fence.
“I wish I could be on overwatch, but without a rifle, that’s not happening,” Caspian said, his finger hovering over the end of the large concrete dock that jutted out of the waterfront promenade and cut through the bay. “Even if I had a long gun, the only viable place I could set up to have an overall view would be here. And that’s about three hundred meters away.”
“What if I make another reservation, this time for one?” Liesel suggested. “That way, you could sit a few tables away from me.”
Caspian didn’t like that idea. “If we’re being watched, and whoever’s after us sees me sitting alone a few tables away from you, they’ll know something’s off. They might realize we’re onto them.”
“So, we sit together? Just a regular couple having dinner?”
“A regular couple?” Caspian smirked. “More like a great-looking couple having dinner.”
Liesel took his hands, lacing her fingers through his. “We’ll be sitting ducks,” she said.
Caspian smiled, then squeezed her hands and leaned in, kissing her gently. He then set his backpack onto the bed, unzipped it, and took out the two pistols he’d earlier confiscated.
“At least we’ll be armed sitting ducks,” he said.
Liesel let out a small laugh.
“Let’s just hope we won’t need them,” she muttered.
Chapter Ten
Port de Sóller
Mallorca, Spain
Caspian held Liesel’s hand as they walked through the crowded streets of Port de Sóller. They didn’t speak much, but their eyes were constantly moving. Before leaving their hotel, they had challenged each other about the layout of the town and the different escape routes around the restaurant.
Caspian adjusted their path slightly, leading her through a curved route around the plaza, then down a quieter side street before returning to the main promenade. It wasn’t a full SDR—surveillance detection route—but it was enough to potentially flush out an inexperienced watcher.
But even then . . .
With all the tourists lingering in the shops, the couples sipping sangria along the waterfront, and the families enjoying dinner on the many terraces, Caspian knew it would be near impossible to spot a tail, let alone a professional surveillance team.
They arrived at Ses Oliveres fifteen minutes before 7 p.m. The sun was getting low, and it would be dark in less than thirty minutes. A coastal breeze threaded through the air, bringing with it the smell of grilled seafood. The hostess greeted them with a warm smile and led them to a table on the terrace. It was set for four. When she reached to clear the third and fourth wineglasses and the tableware, Liesel stopped her.
“Leave this one,” she said, taking off the white sun hat she’d been wearing. “We’re waiting for someone else.”
Caspian took the chair facing the pedestrian promenade, which gave him a clear view of the bay, the pedestrian road, the tram tracks, and the steady stream of foot traffic. Anyone looking at him would see a relaxed man enjoying the company of a beautiful woman. While this was true, Caspian was clocking everything: the couple holding hands and laughing a little too loudly, the lone man nursing a beer three tables to their right, and the woman pretending to read the menu while glancing at them over her sunglasses.
Caspian knew Liesel was doing the same.
“Anything?” she asked.
“My sixth sense isn’t tingling,” he replied.
