She steps closer, suspicious.
Sun falls on the side of his face, and surprise rustles through her.
“Patrick?”
“Join me?” He gestures to a seat. “Apparently we can’t board yet. There’s some issue and they won’t be running the tenders for another half hour.”
She hesitates, glances toward the harbor, sees groups of milling guests along the dock. No one is getting onto boats yet. She turns back to Patrick. His table is shady under the vines. She’s thirsty.
“It’s better than waiting in the sun at the dock,” he says.
“Okay.”
He gets up, pulls out a chair for her. She seats herself and hangs her bulky bag over the back of her chair. He looks nice. All cleaned up and fresh, if a little wan.
He summons a waiter. “What can I get you? The Turkish coffee is excellent. But they also have very nice mint lemonade or a cold, salty yogurt drink—incredibly refreshing in this heat.”
“A lemonade, thank you.”
He gives the order. When the waiter leaves, she asks, “Where’s Arrabella?”
As she speaks, she notices Avi Galev taking a seat at a place across the street. She tenses. “I—I heard them calling her name over the PA yesterday.”
“She opted to remain on Crete.”
“What? Why?”
“She said she needed a break from me.” He gives a shrug. The waiter arrives with her drink and sets it in front of her. Poppy takes a large gulp, and the coolness is wonderful. She allows a small sigh to escape her.
“Is this to do with you feeling that she’s having an affair?” she asks, stealing another quick glance at Avi.
He laughs. “Direct as always. Good for you, Poppy. I’m afraid the booze was speaking—I shouldn’t have burdened you with my problems. Bottom line, we do need to clear the air between us. Figure out where things go—or don’t—from here.”
“So why was the ship’s crew looking for her if they knew she was quitting the cruise?”
“Because she didn’t formally quit. She didn’t sign the requisite documents, or retrieve her passport—she didn’t bother, just didn’t come back. Security gave me a hard time because of it. They still have their eye on me. In case.”
“In case of what?”
“In case something did or does happen to her.” He gives another shrug. “They figure I could’ve had something to do with her ‘disappearance.’” He makes air quotes. “They always blame the husband, or partner, first, don’t they?” He sips his Turkish coffee. “Who knows. Maybe she’ll try to rejoin us in Santorini. Maybe she won’t. We’ll see. Right now—she’s as good as gone.”
Poppy’s mind goes to the Death List.
Get rid of Arra.
She thinks of Lillith’s words.
She’s no good for my Patrick. I needed him to see that on his own. So I asked Avi to help with her.
“What about her luggage?”
He shrugs. “She has a credit card.”
Poppy frowns.
She casts another quick glance toward Avi, but he’s gone.
“Is theBlack Orchidsecurity still following up?” she asks while scanning the street for Avi.
