It was a few minutes past seven when the waitress approached their table.
“Should I bring you something to drink while you wait for your friend?” she asked in Spanish.
Liesel ordered a bottle of sparkling water and small plates of Iberian ham and fried anchovies.
“She probably has eyes on us,” Liesel said once the waitress had left.
Caspian scanned the crowd again.
“Maybe,” he said. “If she’s watching, she’s doing it from a distance.”
As they waited for the appetizers, and for Sofie to show up, Liesel asked, “You think the folks you zip-tied got free?”
“Yeah. I’d be shocked if they didn’t. I’m sure they weren’t out for long.”
“Then we have to assume they’ve reported back and they’re now actively looking for you.”
“If they’re looking for me, then the window for us staying static here is closing fast.”
“If?” Liesel asked.
“Maybe they already got what they came here for,” Caspian replied.
“Paul Hobb.”
“Yep. Why risk coming after me if they’ve already accomplished their mission? To settle a score? Because I bruised their egos? I don’t think so.”
The appetizers arrived, and Caspian forced himself to eat. He chewed, but he didn’t taste anything.
“She’s half an hour late,” Liesel said, munching on a fried anchovy. “What do you want to do?”
Caspian looked at her. She smiled, did her best to appear casual, but the tension in her shoulders and the slight crease in her brow told him the truth. Liesel was worried.
Worried about what I’ll say. Worried about us leaving before she could see her sister.
“We’re here. Let’s order mains and wait. If she doesn’t show by the time we’re done, we’ll head back to the hotel, grab our gear, and drive to Palma.”
Liesel looked relieved, but before she could reply, two local police officers came into view. They were walking their bikes side by side along the promenade, chatting. Both wore short-sleeved blue uniforms, shirts and shorts. One was in his late forties and seemed to have a permanent squint, as if he was annoyed by the sun. He had a strong build and a calm, seasoned look that suggested a couple of decades of patrol work and regular gym sessions. The other was younger, lean, and had a pair of sunglasses perched on his cap.
Caspian bit the interior of his lower lip as the two officers stopped by the hostess stand. He had a side view of the officers, but Liesel would have had to turn her head to see them.
“The local cops just stopped to talk to the hostess,” he said.
Had he been wrong about the two people on the beach? Had they reported the incident and given his description to the police?
Without making it obvious, Caspian watched the exchange. The hostess nodded at something the older cop said, then her eyes swept casually across the terrace and briefly landed on their table. Was she about to point them out?
Caspian forced himself to stay relaxed, but his heart rate climbed anyway.
The young officer laughed and said something Caspian couldn’t hear. Then, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the hostess’s lips.
“I think the hostess is the younger cop’s girlfriend,” he said. “They’re leaving.”
Still, knowing this could have gone very differently, the tension didn’t drain from Caspian’s neck and shoulders right away.
Movement from inside the restaurant pulled his attention. A woman approached their table. Caspian sat upright. The woman looked like Liesel.
But older, and roughened, somehow.
