Forty-One

Peter’s guy from Blue, the one who had followed them on their first day, arrived with two others. They took Elsa’s and Levi’s suitcases. Elsa hugged Teresa and they promised to keep in touch. How that would happen with Eduardo and Teresa on the run, Hollis didn’t ask. Maybe they would find a way.

“Promise me you will email, even just once,” Elsa told Hollis, “so I know the story ends well.”

“I’ll use a different name,” she said, “and I’ll probably tell you I’m a teacher in Michigan.”

Elsa smiled. “But I’ll know you are Mr. and Mrs. James Bond.”

It was almost seven when Finn and Hollis left the room. The plan was for Declan and Peter to stay, babysitting Bryan. Peter’s man was coming back for Eduardo and Teresa. Teresa’s father had picked up the false passports they needed, and Peter had arranged for the address book to arrive by morning. Hollis and Finn agreed to spend the night in the suite now that the honeymooners were safe in another hotel. Hollis spent twenty minutes explaining to a maid why she needed fresh sheets and towels when they’d already been changed that morning. Finn said it didn’t matter, but it did.

“Dinner?” Finn had asked moments after they got in the elevator. She wasn’t hungry, but she was anxious to talk through everything and obviously that wasn’t possible if someone was listening. They’d saved lives, captured a killer and put together a plan to fake the address book, but something felt off, and she needed Finn’s assurance that everything was going the way it should.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get it. Instead, they sat on barstools at a pizza place near the hotel, watching a drizzle turn into a steady rain, laughing and worrying about what might happen with Declan and Peter left together in the room.

“They’ll either come out as an unbeatable team of super spies, or one of them won’t come out at all,” Hollis said.

“I’d put money on Peter to kill Declan.”

“I don’t know. Declan’s got pretty solid survival skills.”

“I’m not in love with the crush you have on that guy,” Finn said.

Hollis laughed. “Come on, Declan is everything you would want an art thief—”

“Art forger.”

“Whatever,” she said. “He’s charming, good-looking, has an Irish accent. And he has that whole social justice thing.”

“Which I admit is probably not a put-on. Crazy that he gave millions of dollars to the university.”

“It’s a pretty flattering gesture of friendship.”

“Or some angle he’s playing.”

“Probably. He did manipulate Carlos into using the McCabes so he could get us in their place. And he wanted us so we would help him get the address book. But maybe he wants the address book because he really does want to save the world from some terrible guy hell-bent on causing some economic tsunami,” Hollis said.

“Or maybe he’s going to steal it and sell it to replace the money he gave the school.”

“Then why give the money away in the first place?”

“Maybe it’s not about the money for him, it’s about the game,” Finn said. “If he does steal that address book, Peter will kill him. Actually kill him.”

“Or he’ll just put him in prison.” The idea made Hollis a little sad. She was fond of Declan, that much was obvious. He was like a younger brother. A really troublesome, completely unpredictable, but somehow still loveable younger brother. When he wasn’t locking them in crypts or getting them misidentified as killers, he was quite sweet.

“Either way, what happens to Bryan?” Finn asked. “I don’t buy what Peter said.”

“Neither do I. Maybe we can talk him into putting Bryan in witness protection.”

“Can Blue do that?”

She shrugged. Bryan wasn’t a good man, but as much could be said of Peter and Declan—each were killers, each had secrets. She didn’t want to see either of them die for their past deeds, and she certainly didn’t want to have helped capture Bryan only to let him be murdered. “Bryan’s made clear that he’s looking out for himself. That’s a survival instinct Peter will understand and work with. Criminals can reform, right?”

“Apparently they can get graduate degrees at small but prestigious Midwestern colleges.”

Hollis’s eyes widened. “That’s crazy. I spent so much time worrying about how Angela was going to handle lecturing a room full of students. I didn’t think she had the courage.” She let out a dry laugh. “I guess it’s good that Declan had Angela there, she was protecting us in a way.”

“I don’t know how protective she was. Someone managed to put a dead guy in our house while we were upstairs in bed.”

It seemed like a million years earlier that they’d come downstairs and found Peter and the young man in the chair. But it had been two and a half days.

“Who is that dead guy?” she wondered aloud. “And what does he have to do with any of this? If we’re right that Silva put him there, why did he do it?”

“It had to have been part of the larger scheme.”

“How? If it was revenge against Carlos, why not stick the kid in his living room instead of ours?”

“Maybe we need to know who he was, to know why he was there.”

Sensible but there wasn’t much hope of finding out, Hollis realized, so they might never know who had ended up on their chair, and why Silva—if it was Silva—had done it.

The rain showed no signs of letting up, so it was either get wet or wait for who-knows-how-long until it stopped. They decided to get wet.

“We’ve lived through worse,” Finn said. He grabbed Hollis’s hand and they ran, barely missing puddles but getting soaked anyway.

When they ducked under an awning to avoid an especially heavy downpour, Hollis looked at the streets lit only with streetlamps and the moon. A group of teenagers passed them, ignoring the rain. Across the street an old man huddled in a doorway with a small dog in his arms. But otherwise the streets were quiet. She realized it was the first time since they’d arrived they hadn’t been hungry or scared or chased by killers.

She had a chance to just be in the moment in this amazing place. The buildings were still beautiful even in the weather, the shops were stocked, the smell of food wafting out of the restaurants was still heavenly. But without the noise of people, she saw something she hadn’t before. There was a melancholy about Argentina. It was as if they understood the hardness of life in a way that most Americans did not. But along with the sadness, a passion and joy. It was a complete contradiction, sort of like the dance she had seen at the café, a mix of hope and resignation.

Once you know the tango, you know everything there is to know about Argentina. Silva had said that.

As if on cue, she heard the sounds of tango coming from a nearby bar. She curled into Finn’s arms.

“Dance with me,” she said.

He wrapped himself around her and slowly moved his feet. She moved with him, more swaying than dancing. But it was their version of a tango.

She caught the eye of the man across the street, and he and his dog began swaying to the music as well. That was the other thing about Argentina. It was romantic.

By the time they got to the hotel their clothes were clinging to them and they were laughing and hugging and trying to catch their breath.

“I’m getting old.” Finn coughed as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s depressing.”

“I’m older,” Hollis pointed out.

“Two months. And you look younger.” He grabbed her the way Carlos had, but instead of dancing, he kissed her. “I’m proud of the way you handled Bryan.”

“I hope he’s telling the truth.”

“He is. I’ve been listening to student’s lies for years. I have an ear for it. You do too. It felt like the truth to me.”

He was right. She’d have known if Bryan was lying about the meeting and the plane, just like she knew when a student’s “my grandmother died” line was real and when it was just an excuse. Well, usually knew. The real Tim and Janet had fooled her. And that gave her pause. Maybe, even without their experience, Bryan was as good as they were.

“Do you realize we’ll be done with all of this in the morning and we can go home?” she said. “That’s good, right?”

“It’s good,” Finn agreed. “We’ve done our bit. More than our bit.”

It was just hitting her that they would be on a plane in maybe fifteen hours, and in class the next day. When someone asked how her long weekend was, she’d have to say she spent it on the couch reading. Even if she told the truth, no one would believe her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t read your paper on global whatever in an internet economy,” Finn said.

“It was really boring.”

“In that case, I’m glad I didn’t read it.”

“I’ll write something even more dull, and now you’ll have to read it. The Cubs are out of the playoffs.”

“Ah, but it’s basketball season. I have a lot of hope for the Bulls this year.” He kissed her a second time.

There was a woman behind the desk. Hollis felt a little disappointed. She’d gotten so used to finding Matias there, it almost seemed as if he never went home. But it was also a relief. One more bit of odd behavior from them, and he’d probably call the police.