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But as they neared the end of their meal Celeste’s determined composure was overset by a quite different source. She had just made an interested reply to something Rafael had said about the new eco-friendly beachfront resort in Maragua that he was investing in when her eye was abruptly caught by a couple taking their place at a table at the far end of the room. They were almost concealed by the red velvet drapery—but not enough to stop her recognising, with a sudden tautening of her stomach, that the man was Karl Reiner.
Then another ripple of unpleasant recognition went through her. The woman he was with was Louise, the young model she’d met the day before.
‘What is it?’ Rafael asked quietly, seeing her expression.
Celeste swallowed. ‘Karl Reiner’s just turned up with a model I know is only a teenager and is totally new to modelling,’ she said tightly.
She looked as if she was going to jump to her feet. Rafael stayed her, loosely cupping her wrist for a moment. ‘Do you think she’s underage?’ he asked, in the same low voice.
Celeste shook her head. ‘No, but she’s made up to look my age—which she is not. I don’t want—’ She stopped.
‘Just keep an eye on her,’ Rafael advised. ‘Has Karl Reiner seen you?’
‘No, and now he’s out of my vision—he’s hidden behind that drape.’
‘Well, he’s not the important one—she is.’
They resumed eating and conversation returned, but Celeste was constantly aware of Louise on the far side of the room.
As the waiter cleared their plates and she glanced again towards Louise she frowned. The expression on Louise’s face had changed. She was looking vacant, and there was a slackness about her posture. She lifted the glass at her setting and drank from it. Water? thought Celeste. Or vodka? Then, as Louise bent her head to fork her food in a suspiciously slow-motion way, Celeste saw Karl Reiner’s hand extend from behind the drape and drop something into Louise’s glass.
She was on her feet in a second. Crossing the restaurant in moments. Standing in front of Louise.
‘Hello, Louise,’ she said. She kept her voice friendly.
Louise lifted her drooping head and smiled. ‘Hi!’ she slurred. Her eyes were glassy, but at least she’d recognised her, Celeste noted.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Karl Reiner leant forward belligerently.
Celeste’s eyes lasered him. ‘You’ve put something in Louise’s drink. I saw you! And, looking at the state of her, it’s not the first time this evening!’
Karl’s face darkened. ‘You make accusations like that and I’ll see you in court!’ he attacked belligerently.
A voice behind her spoke. Cool, but with an edge to it that cut like a blade. ‘One moment—’
Rafael’s hand cupped Celeste’s tensed shoulder and he reached forward to pick up Louise’s glass. It looked clear and pristine, but he raised it to his nose.
‘Roofies don’t smell and they don’t taste—and they dissolve instantly!’ Celeste ground out.
‘There’s no damn roofies in that!’ Karl snarled angrily.
The bladed voice came again. ‘Well, if there’s nothing spiked about Louise’s drink you won’t object to drinking it yourself, will you?’
Wordlessly he held it out to Karl. Who did not take it. It was all Celeste needed. She went round to Louise’s banquette.
‘Time to go home,’ she said bracingly, and helped her to her feet.
‘I’m fine,’ said Louise, but as she tried to stand up she started to sway, and collapsed back down again.
The maître d’ was there, having realised something untoward was going on.
Rafael turned to him. ‘Bring a small, unopened bottle of mineral water,’ he ordered. ‘Mr Reiner’s guest is feeling unwell, so we’ll be seeing her home.’
