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“It’s me. Can you get here in the next ten minutes?” I pause to listen, then hang up. I run on tiptoes to my suite and pull out a bag I haven’t opened since I left Miami. I tug on the dark wig Ana had bought for our ill-fated escape from the Ritz Carlton. It’s too hot for the trench coat so instead I drape myself in a kaftan I wouldn’t normally be seen dead in. Finally perching giant sunglasses on my nose, I gather the pile of papers I’ve carefully marked, slide them into a bag and head out of the villa.
I half walk, half run down the boardwalk to the beach. Keeping my head down, I pace along the sandy pathways, up towards the main building. A couple passes me on their way to the beach bar and I nod, briefly, thankful they haven’t recognized me. Despite the intense, on-stage workouts I do every night, I’m out of breath by the time I reach the loading bay. I turn east and weave my way through the foliage lining the perimeter wall, to a secret entrance I overheard Isaac talking about with Connor. As planned, a nondescript grey car with shaded windows is parked up just behind the wall, it’s engine cut.
I walk up to it, just as the front passenger door pops open. I slide in without needing to look at the people seated inside. As soon as the door closes I turn to face the man in the front seat.
“How long do we have?” he asks.
“About ten minutes. I can’t risk any longer.”
Another man’s voice comes from the back seat. “Do you have the papers?”
“It’s all here,” I say, turning to hand the pile of papers over. “How long will you need?”
The man in the back speaks first. “I can look over these right away.”
“And you?” I turn to the driver.
“I’m probably going to need a few days. I’ll let you know the second I find something.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Before we go into details. There’s one other thing I need you to help me with.” I look pointedly at the driver again. “There’s someone I need you to find.”
