Ah hell, she’s casing the perimeter, searching for an escape route. Please, sugar, don’t try anything stupid. I’m coming. After all this time, she must know to stay put.
My heart lurches when she exits the water. Damned if I don’t love her more every day and trust her instincts even less.
Lucky adjusts his lenses, points them at the dock, and frowns. “We’ll need a fookin’ army. You see that bloke? His AK will cut you to shreds in seconds.”
“Copy that.” As much as I hate to leave Sam, our team needs time to plan.
My pal reads my anguished face. “Don’t worry, mate, she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
“And I want her to keep it there.” I signal to Slate we’re heading back, drop sail, and motor us back to the mainland.
Back in our hotel lobby, the manager calls out, “Mr. Parkinson?”
It takes me a moment to remember my alter ego. Weakening my voice, I limp toward the desk. “That’s me, young man.”
He reaches under the desk and hands over an envelope. “This came for you.”
“Thank you.” Leaning heavily on my cane, I hobble toward the elevator door and extract a cheap burner phone. It rings immediately.
“Hello?” I rather expected the Bahamian police but the voice on the other end belongs to Sam’s Uncle Vinny.
“I’ll give you thirty seconds before Frankie puts a bullet in your head. Talk.”
He never did like me but threatening my life is over the top, even for him. I move deeper into the lobby, just in case the hitman has me in his crosshairs.
“C’mon now, the video didn’t sound anything like Sam and you know it. It was a total sham.” Sure as fuck he didn’t get where he is today by believing nonsense posted on social media.
The mobster sighs. “Yo. I get it but I got a reputation to upkeep. So, fix dis, now.”
“Well, here’s the thing… she’s undercover, investigating a case. She can’t put out a retraction, at least not yet.”
“That’s very unfortunate for youz because they’re all here… Rose, Mia, Marion, your mother-in-law… You’re in deep shit, kid. They used a Groupon. The girls have been saving up for a vacation for over a year. It might be kinder if I let your cat sitter off you.”
Because he saidifand notwhen, I breathe easier. “Can’t you explain to everyone what’s’ goin on?”
He chuckles. “I’ll tell you what. You hire my idiot son and I’ll see what I can do. By the way, he’s staying in your hotel.”
I was going to let my partner spill the beans about her cousin’s missing package but now I have no choice. “First, he needs to clear up a little misunderstanding he had with Big Tony.”
Vinny curses in Italian, most which I understand and it worries me. “Promise me you won’t take any action until you talk to Sam. I promise. She’s got it all figured out.”
“I’ll t’ink about it.”
“And Frankie?”
“I’ll tell him to stand down.”
A few minutes later, my favorite hitman enters the lobby, disguised in a scruffy long beard and an original Grateful Dead t-shirt. He wears an ancient army knapsack and in his right hand, holds a guitar case, big enough to fit a rifle.
Shouting, I wave across the room. “Who’s watching my cat?”
“My mom. Say hi to Sam for me.”
Silently questioning me, Lucky raises his brows and pushes the up button in front of the sliding doors.
I shrug. “What can I say? He’s our cat sitter.”
“Who was that, on your celly?”
