Virginia Smith - Into the Deep

“Then what are you going to do about that?” She dipped her head toward the photo with the note.

Ben’s lips became a tight line as he stared at the paper. She watched thoughts play across his face. Then he snatched up the note. “I’m going to meet them at Mallory Square at sunset. I’ll talk to them, explain that I don’t have whatever it is they’re looking for. I’ll convince them this time.”

Nikki turned her back on him to dump the cold coffee into the sink. She should follow through with her plan. A phone call last night confirmed that there was a plane leaving the Key West airport at two-twenty this afternoon. The flight was full, but she had put her name on the standby list. If she didn’t get on that one, she’d planned to rent a car and drive to the Miami airport. Anything to get off this island and away from Ben.

But now, she wasn’t sure that was a good idea. What if she left and Ben failed to convince the Reynosa cartel that he didn’t have the flash drive? They had followed him from Mexico to Key West. Would they follow her from Key West to Portland? If an ex-girlfriend looked like a good tool for blackmail, a child he didn’t know about would be even better.

I can’t lead them to Joshua.

She whirled around. “If that’s the plan, then I’m going with you.”

She had the satisfaction of seeing his jaw drop.

Mallory Square was packed with people. Nikki hung close to Ben, wishing she could cling to his arm so they wouldn’t get separated. On her train tour yesterday, she had visited the famous pier and snapped a few pictures of the chickens running free in the wide-open area where the nightly sunset celebration occurred. The place had looked big and empty during the day, but now an astounding number of people crowded into the square. A variety of music clashed in a cacophony of sound, both from street musicians and from a nearby bar. Performers of all kinds vied for attention, everything from performing dogs to tightrope walkers to a Houdini wannabe pulling brightly colored scarves seemingly out of thin air. Along the perimeter, rainbow-hued umbrellas arched over handcarts displaying an array of wares for sale.

“Is it always this crowded?” she shouted toward Ben.

He placed his mouth so close to her ear that she felt his warm breath on her cheek. “Almost always. But Saturday nights are busier than most.”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.