T he water in Bahia de Mulas, cupped by land to the east and west, was as serene as a grandmother’s smile. The wind teased ribbons of Alicia’s blond hair, one of her hands clamped to the crown of her hat, the other cradling Dr. Markel’s laptop in her bag.

Good life I was living, all things considered.

Then, my phone rang in my pocket. I was pulled out of my swaddle of good vibrations. I let go of the dinghy’s throttle to answer. Caller ID showed a number I didn’t recognize, but it was local, so I answered anyway.

“This is Snyder.”

“Hello, Mr. Snyder, how are you?” A young woman’s voice asked. She had an American accent, very proper, like she’d paid for coaching, and it wasn’t cheap.

“Things were going good a few seconds ago.”

Alicia looked at me, bottling up a laugh.

“I’m pleased to hear that. Mr. Snyder, you don’t know me, but my name is Tamara Price. Detective Collat from the PRPB gave me your number.”

Great. Collat was giving my number out. Did he think I needed more work?

“If you’re in a bind, I’m sorry, but I can’t do anything for you right now.”

“I know. You’ve been assisting my friend, Gabriela. I’m sorry to call with bad news, but she doesn’t seem to be adjusting to life in Bayamón.”

My stomach sank. “Is Bayamón a prison here?”

“That’s correct.” Tamara paused a moment. She said part of a word, stopped, then went back to the board and plotted out a new thought. “I know she didn’t murder anyone.”

“That makes two of us.” Actually, five of us, at last count.

“I know who did.”

“Unless you’re calling me to confess, I’m going to have a hard time believing that.”

“Are you familiar with an investigative journalist named Luc Baptiste?”

I tipped to the side, then braced myself against the dinghy’s gunwales. If she knew how Baptiste tied into this, she was closer to answers than I assumed.

“I am,” I said, trying not to give everything away.

“Mr. Baptiste was tapped to help Dr. Markel blow the whistle on some malfeasance at Hildon. I’m not at privilege to give specifics, but the information the two of them planned to reveal would’ve been extremely damaging to certain people in the company.”

“Like who?”

“Rachel Little, the CEO.”

“She killed Luc Baptiste and the Markels?” I asked.

“Not herself,” Tamara answered. “I believe she hired hitmen to do it.”

“Do you have evidence of this?” I found this difficult to believe, but certainly not outside the realm of possibility. The idea of Hildon’s CEO being the guilty party was worth entertaining, at least for a few minutes.

“I do, but I can’t share it with you at this time. Not until you do something for me.”

“So, your help is conditional? Do you think this makes me want to work with you?”

“It poses some difficulty, I’m sure,” she said. “However, I’m part of the management team at Hildon. Unlike Dr. Markel, I have an ethos that precludes me from openly sharing sensitive information. I’m of the opinion that this is best dealt with in-house.”

“Yet you called me.”

“My opinion is you are the right man, in the right place, at the right time, Mr. Snyder. You’re helping my dear friend, Gabriela, and there’s nothing I want more than justice to be done.”

Good God. I could smell it blowing through the phone. I thought people like Tamara Price were trapped in my rearview mirror.

“Let’s be honest. You also want your boss’s job,” I said.

“I won’t try to mislead you. Yes, I want to be CEO of Hildon Pharmaceuticals. Who, in my position, with my pedigree, and my aspirations, wouldn’t?”

“And what aspiration would that be?”

“To be the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 company.”

I silently retched. Alicia gave me a puzzled look.

“You’ve got the chops for it,” I said.

“Thank you,” she said. “Gabriela told me she took a laptop from Dr. Markel’s house. That machine is considered property of Hildon, and contains documents not meant for public consumption. I’ll expect you to return it to me now.”

“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t want this to become an adversarial relationship, Mr. Snyder. We can work together.”

“What relationship? I could be looking at you right now, and I wouldn’t know it.”

“I want to get my friend out of prison. She didn’t murder anyone, but so long as that laptop is out of Hildon’s possession, you can be assured they’ll do everything in their power to prosecute her.”

“Now you’re not part of Hildon?”

“I’m not part of legal.”

These people always deflected. Never around to eat the blame, but happy to suck up the credit.

“You remind me of someone I grew up with,” I said. “I didn’t like him.”

She sighed. More for my sake than hers.

“I’ll be in contact, Mr. Snyder. For Gabriela’s sake.”

After Tamara ended the call, Alicia gave me a curious stare.

“Telemarketer,” I said.

“Seemed like an aggressive sales pitch.”

“Some lady named Tamara Price. Said she was a friend of Gabriela’s, but I got the impression she didn’t have Gabriela’s best interests at heart.”

“Think we should tell DJ?”

I shrugged and turned the throttle. The dinghy puttered toward Wayward .