I flip all three locks and open the door. “Something I can do for you? Make it quick. My former employer almost had me deported this morning. Figure whatever you need next should get me hauled off to jail within a couple of hours.”
“What are you talking about?” Domina steps back, shock playing over her features. I take a second look at her. Her hair is drenched, and some of her makeup has washed away, revealing the dark purple bruise under her eye.
“You said you’d ‘keep my name out of it.’ Clearly, you didn’t.”
Domina straightens her shoulders, the fire returning to her eyes. “I did not lie to you, Leo. I told the police you knocked the man out, but that once you tied him up, I told you to leave. They did not ask for your name, and I did not offer it.”
My anger fades slightly. I listened in as best I could the previous night, and her story tracks. I step back and jerk my thumb into the room.
She blows out a breath and hikes her briefcase strap higher on her shoulder. “If you think I betrayed you, I am not coming in.”
“Domina, get inside. This isn’t a conversation we’re having in the hallway.” I soften my voice and slouch a little, trying to seem less threatening.
Before she makes up her mind, all the lights in the building go out.
Across the threshold, Domina flinches and darts a glance up and down the pitch-dark hallway. Apparently, this building doesn’t have emergency lighting. Or it’s not working. In the subtle glow from the candles in my living room, she’s scared—terrified even.
“Domina? I’m sorry I was an ass just now. Come on in. You’re soaking wet. Sit down. I’ll get a towel for your hair, and we can talk. I promise you’re not in any danger from me.”
She holds my gaze for a long moment until someone in another apartment curses loudly in Spanish, then steps quickly over the threshold. “Only for a few minutes. So we can resolve this.”
“Suit yourself.” I flip the locks and turn to find Domina watching me.
“You do not have a chain,” she says quietly.
I gesture to the couch and duck into the hall to grab a thick, dark blue bath towel from the linen closet. “Chains don’t do shit. Even a hundred-pound kid can break a chain if he hits the door just right.”
Domina’s lips part, then she presses them together in a thin line. Shit. That was the wrong thing to say.
Handing her the towel, I move to the kitchen. The power might be out, but my USB mug warmer plugs into my tablet’s battery pack. “Can I make you some tea? I don’t have much. Chamomile or…shit. Chamomile.”
“There is no power,” she says simply, her brows furrowing as she squeezes sections of her hair in the towel.
I show her the little USB plug and the battery, then set a mug of water on top of it. “It’ll take five minutes. If you want a better lock than the cheap-ass deadbolt the landlord installed, I’ll get you one tomorrow and install it for you. Along with a motion alarm.”
“I thought you did not trust me. Why would you do this?” Domina tugs her red blazer closed over herverywet white blouse.
I shrug, though my right shoulder doesn’t rise as high as the left. “I didn’t say that.” Shoving my hands into my pockets, I stare at her from across the room. The candlelight casts flickering shadows over her face, and shit. She’s so damn beautiful. Even with the bruises and obvious exhaustion. “The CIA’s Chief of Station called me in this morning and reamed my ass for pulling a gun on a Panamanian citizen.”
“How did he find out? I swear to you, Leo. I said nothing to the police.” Domina rummages through her briefcase and pulls out a brown paper bag tied with a red ribbon. “If I had given them your name, would I have brought you Huevos de Leche from the bakery by my office?” She offers me a weak smile and shakes the bag gently.
The confections made from milk, sugar, and cinnamon are a local delicacy—one I rarely allow myself.
“You have Huevos de Leche?” I limp back to the couch and ease the bag from her outstretched hand. The ribbon falls to the floor, and inside, a dozen confections—each wrapped in a piece of colorful paper—bring a lopsided smile to my face.
“This bakery makes the best ones in Panama City. I thought…it was the least I could do.” Domina swipes at her face with the towel, and more of her makeup disappears. “Whoever told your ‘Chief of Station’ you were involved did not hear it from me.”
“I believe you.” I shuffle back to the kitchen, pour the Huevos de Leche into a bowl, and add a chamomile tea bag to the heated mug. “Maybe that asshole was conscious when we were talking. Or he told the National Police how I jumped onto the balcony and they pulled my rental agreement.”
With a shrug, I bring the bowl over to the couch and set it on the side table. “I’ll call the Chief of Station again in the morning and see if I can get more information. Hopefully he won’t tear me a new one or have me arrested.”
“Oh, God. Could he really?” She pushes to her feet, reaches for my arm, and curls her fingers around my right wrist. Right over the scars from days spent bound with wire and ropes.
I jerk away before I can stop myself, and Domina gasps.
“Sorry. It’s been a long time since anyone…touched me.” After a beat, I add, “I’ve got cold pizza. A couple of protein bars. And all those Huevos de Leche. What can I get you besides tea?”
Domina stares down at my wrist peeking out from the pocket of my cargo pants. The scarring is mostly hidden, but she felt it. She knows it’s there.
