Eighteen

Finn drank his second cup of coffee and tried to catch a glimpse of the man. “I don’t recognize him. Maybe he’s just a man.”

“I have a feeling,” Hollis said. “And don’t mock it.”

“Wasn’t going to. We could call Peter.”

“Do we know his number?”

“It was on a piece of paper in the living room.” Finn laughed, but it was more annoyed than anything. “If that guy is watching us, our options are narrowing. Instead of chasing down this Prodigal Woman clue, we call the embassy and ask them to put us in touch with Interpol. Maybe they can do a better job of helping us get out of this than Peter could.”

Hollis opened her mouth to speak and it was Finn this time who put up his hand.

“Don’t say what about Declan. I don’t care about that guy. I care about you and me. That’s it.”

“I wasn’t going to say it.”

“Yes, you were.”

He was right about that and about their priorities, so she didn’t bother to argue. And there was that guy, just sitting there, his eyes only looking away when they met hers. He’d pretend to look at his phone or at a newspaper but in a way that was so obvious she was sure he was there to watch them. But for whom?

She sipped her coffee and tried to make a plan for a quick exit. It had been several minutes since they were told the owner was on his way. All they had to do was wait and hope that nothing happened.

A few minutes more, the coffee was finished. The man was still looking, and Finn was getting a telephone recording at the embassy.

Hollis sat back in her chair and tried to focus on deep, cleansing breaths. In and out. It also gave her a chance to look at the other patrons in the restaurant: a couple in their twenties laughing, a pair of middle-aged women chatting quietly over coffee, a mom and two kids, a woman alone reading a book. And then that man. Still watching. Still pretending he wasn’t.

“Señor?” A heavy-set man about fifty approached their table. “I’m Saul. Gabriella has told me about you.” He shook each of their hands, but held onto Hollis’s, looking closely at the bracelet. “Come in the back with me, okay. I don’t like to do business in front of others.”

Hollis looked around but the waitress, Gabriella, was nowhere to be found. Finn got up first, following the man. Hollis went last, glancing back just one more time. The man dropped a few coins on the table and walked out the door.

Saul walked to the back of the counter and stopped at a small doorway that led to a darkened back room. He motioned for Finn to go ahead of him, but Finn paused. “We’ll follow you.”

Saul smiled and went first.

“This is a good idea, right?” Hollis said.

“No, it’s a terrible idea, but we’re going to stick with it.” Finn walked through the door into the back room. Hollis took a breath and followed him.

Immediately there was a wall, and then a turn to the left, and another turn. Hollis put her hand on Finn’s back and kept following. She saw a light ahead and soon a small kitchen filled with banged-up stainless-steel appliances and a shadowy figure smiling at them.

Looking perfectly at home, Peter was leaning against the commercial oven. He handed a stack of peso notes to Saul, who stayed in the kitchen but retreated to the shadows.

“You’re alive!” Peter said, though he didn’t sound too worried.

“Was it you who kidnapped us?” Finn asked.

“Not me. Not Declan’s people either, at least as far as I can tell.” He pulled a large envelope from his coat and handed it to Finn. “About two thousand dollars’ worth of Argentinian pesos, credit cards in the names of Tim and Janet, and a couple of burner phones.”

Saul looked disappointed. “You are not selling me your bracelet?”

“You’re not in on this?” Hollis asked.

Saul just looked confused.

“No,” Peter explained. “My man—”

“I knew he was watching us!”

“You always do, Hollis. It’s your superpower. That and getting into trouble,” Peter said. “He’s been following you since you left the hotel. Discreetly. He texted me, and I came to help.”

Finn handed him back the envelope. “We don’t need pesos. We need a lift home.”

“Not possible, mate. This mission is a go, so we’re going to have to see how it plays out.”

“This mission to help Declan?” Hollis asked.

“This mission to capture Declan. He’s pretended to be just an ordinary bloke, a small player in a big game, but I know he’s more than that.”

“Based on what?” Finn asked.

“A feeling.”

Finn threw up his hands. “Another one with feelings. I don’t want to help Hollis save Declan, but I’m even more opposed to helping you put the guy in jail.”

Peter’s body stiffened. “You’re on his side?”

“I’m on my side. I’m on Hollis’s side. I’m on the side of not getting killed and on the side of going home before my Monday class.”

“You don’t have a class on Monday,” Hollis said, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Finn turned toward her. “This is so not the time to be the person in charge of the schedule.”

She nodded. “He’s right, Peter. We’re in way over our heads. Neither one of us can figure out what the plan is. We got chloroformed, then woke up on a private plane with men carrying guns. Then we were dropped off at a fancy hotel. Not one part of that makes sense.”

“But you look good. That blouse suits you.”

She didn’t want to, but she blushed.

“We survive the mission, we get to keep the clothes,” Finn said. “Is that supposed to be an incentive?”

Peter tilted his head slightly, either annoyed or amused, Hollis couldn’t tell. “Obviously you were brought here to do a job. And if I had to guess, it’s the people looking for Declan. Word is someone wants him dead and you’re here to do it.”

“The murder that must happen,” Hollis said.

“But if they’re looking for Declan, they have to know we’re friends, or you know, at least friendly with Declan,” Finn said. “Why would they want us to kill him?”

“I don’t think they want you. They want Tim and Janet McCabe.”

“Who are Tim and Janet McCabe?” Finn asked, straining to keep his voice at a normal level.

Peter shrugged. “They’re not on our radar. But whoever they are, they travel well”—he pointed toward Finn and Hollis—“and clearly they dress well.”

Finn sighed. “When we can’t kill Declan, or whatever it is the
McCabes are supposed to do, I have a feeling these nice clothes are going to be covered in blood.”

“I know this is a risk, and we’ll stay as close as we can. Remember, Declan Murphy wanted you here,” Peter said. “He thinks you can handle this, so I do too. Besides, if I pull you now, I’ll probably never get close to him again.” This time he handed the envelope to Hollis. “Remember the dead body in your living room? Until this is over, going home is no safer than staying here.”

Hollis looked over at Finn. “What about a gun?”

“No,” Peter answered for him. “I know it seems like a good idea, but it’s more dangerous for an inexperienced shooter to have a gun than to be without one.”

“I’m not inexperienced,” Hollis said.

Peter wasn’t buying it. “You haven’t shot a gun since you were training at Langley. That was, what, fifteen years ago?”

“Seventeen,” Finn corrected him.

“When’s the last time you shot at anything, Finn?”

“Never, but I’ve been reading a lot about weapons lately,” he said. “So we aren’t marksmen, so what? Hollis is right. You’re using us as bait. I want a little insurance we’re not going to get gobbled up before you have a chance to hook your fish.”

Peter shook his head. “A bad guy is going to take the gun off you. Then you’ll be in real trouble.”

“A bad guy will come with his own gun.”

Peter thought for a moment. He muttered something, then reached behind him and pulled out a Sig Sauer 9mm. He sighed, moved to hand it to Finn, then changed his mind and handed it to Hollis. “Try to remember your training if you need this.”

She felt the weight of the weapon in her hand. It had been a long time since she held a gun, and she’d only shot it at paper targets. She had no idea if she’d have the courage to shoot it at someone.

“The phones have speed dial,” Peter said. “The number one spot on each phone is the other phone. I know how you guys like to keep tabs on each other. The number two spot is me. The number three spot is my colleague from out front. Just in case I’m not reachable.”

“Why won’t you be reachable?” Finn asked. “You’ve got plans to take polo lessons or something?”

Hollis lightly bumped against Finn to get his attention. He looked at her, annoyed. Her eyes widened. Finn blushed.

“Okay,” Finn said. “Sorry, Peter. If something happens to you, we have a contact. Thanks for that.”

“But be careful,” Hollis added.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Use the phones before you use the gun. Promise me.”

Finn and Hollis both nodded. It sounded like a reasonable idea in theory.

Gabriella appeared, saying something in Spanish to her boss. Saul nodded toward her and glanced to Peter. “You will all go now?”

Hollis put the gun into her nearly empty purse, then took the cash—a stack in hundred-peso denominations—split it roughly in half, and handed one stack to Finn along with one of the phones and the credit card with Tim McCabe’s name on it. She stuffed her half next to the gun. The bag was heavy on her shoulder.

“We think we’re supposed to go to the Eva Perón Museum,” she told Peter before turning to Finn. “Is that still the plan?”

He glanced at Peter, frowned, then back at her. “The museum.”

Peter moved toward the front of the restaurant, but Gabriella stopped Hollis and Finn. “There are two men out front. I don’t like how they ask questions. There’s a back door if you want to go that way.”

Hollis slipped off her bracelet and put it in Gabriella’s hand. “Thank you for your kindness.”

Gabriella nodded. “I think you’re in more trouble than a mugging.”