“A burner. I bought it after I got here.”
Jason nodded. “I texted Eric.”
“Thought you would. What did you tell him?”
Jason didn’t miss the hint of accusation in his words. “Relax. I didn’t share any of your suspicions. Not that I have a clue why you have suspicions.”
Leland ignored that last comment. “So? What did you say?”
Jason backed out of the parking space and turned on the air conditioner. “I told him you were in communication with Gus until yesterday, and that you decided to come out here because you had nothing better to do.”
Jason smiled at the grimace on the senior agent’s face as he turned onto the main road leading away from the resort area. “He bought that, by the way. He said it sounded like you. I thought so too.”
“You think you know me so well, huh?”
“I thought I did. We’ve been through a couple of hairy assignments together.” He took his eyes off the road to read Leland’s face. “But you never told me about your niece.”
Leland stared straight ahead. “I’m protective of her. I like to keep her separate from this life as much as possible.” He gave a humorless laugh. “I guess that sounds ridiculous. She’s not a child.”
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Her parents died in the same car accident that took my wife. Tayla was still in college. It was just her and me for several years. She eventually got married. Then, about five years ago, sheand her husband, Spence, were on vacation in California. They rented some jet skis. And crashed into some rocks.” Another sigh. “Tayla was rescued. Spence didn’t survive.”
Jason felt like he’d been gut-punched. “That’s awful. I’m sorry.” So, Tayla carried the same brand of pain he walked around with. That was surprising. And surreal. He hurt for her. Knowing those kind, patient eyes had to watch someone she loved die in front of her . . . it twisted something in his chest.
Leland cleared his throat, clearly wanting to change the subject. “Turn here,” he said, pointing at an upcoming sign that read ‘Turtle Point Road.’
Jason pushed his focus to the lush landscape inviting them deeper into the island. “This place is beautiful. I see why Drakos’s resorts stay booked up.”
Leland snorted. “You know this is a non-extradition country? With more laws about privacy than safety?”
Jason nodded. “I know. I was just admiring the scenery.” He flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “You think the resorts are full of criminals?”
“I guarantee you some of them are here hiding from one country or another.” He adjusted one of the vents to aim more cool air in his direction. “But some of theguests are celebrities looking for an island paradise without any paparazzi.” He jabbed a finger in the air to emphasize his point. “That’swhat Drakos can almost guarantee them—privacy. And they pay well for it.”
Jason followed a curve around a rocky ledge, giving way to a stunning ocean view. He blew an appreciative whistle. “Unspoiled beaches, lush landscape, plenty of privacy. The definition of paradise in some respects. I was surprised, though, on an island this small, that there would be an orphanage.”
As if on cue, the orphanage appeared in front of them. Jason parked in the small parking area next to what looked like a Victorian mansion perched on a seaside cliff. Painted blue with white trim, it looked more like a cheery bed-and-breakfast.
A woman in a sleeveless linen top and shorts offered a leery greeting as they exited the SUV. She descended the front steps of the orphanage and traversed the parking area with agility and speed that belied her white hair.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?”
“I hope so,” said Jason. “My name is Jason Bridger, and this is Leland.”
“I’m Rose Donning.”
He shook her hand. Leland smiled and waved as he walked over to them. “We’re looking for a friend of ours. We believe he drove out here yesterday.” He held out his phone to show her a picture of Gus.
The woman retrieved her reading glasses hanging around her neck on a dainty beaded chain and studied the picture.
Jason caught Leland’s attention. “See? That’s what you need, a handy necklace to hold your glasses.”
Leland looked ready to throttle him.
The woman shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize him. Is he a tourist? Do you think he got lost out here?”
“Possibly,” Jason said. “He wanted to see this part of the island, but it’s been a while since we’ve heard from him, so we wanted to check around.”
Her lips pressed into a hard line. “Happens all the time.” She sat her hands on her hips. “Isadora may be small, but it’s not hard to get lost. There isn’t much cell service, the roads aren’t well-signed, and some get washed out in the storms.” She pointed at the large Victorian house. “I don’t know if you missed our sign on the way in, but this is an orphanage.”
