When I arrive—onlythree minutes late—Omar is rushing to the main conference room. Coffee splashes over the rim of his mug, and he swears under his breath before he sees me. “Domina, hurry. Manuel is about to begin.”
I cast one last, lingering look at the coffee machine before following Omar. The energy in the office iswrongsomehow. This close to the election, it should be tense, but still full of anticipation. Of promise. Not the uncertainty I feel in the air today.
Manuel sits at the head of the table, back straight, completely in control. Except for his eyes. The brown depths hold an exhaustion I have rarely seen in him.
I drop my briefcase and take a seat next to Larissa. Before I can apologize for being late, he clears his throat.
“Yesterday afternoon, the Institutional Protection Service alerted me to a security breach at El Palacio de las Garzas. President Garcia and I were both elsewhere at the time. Someone attempted to pilot an amphibious drone under the Cinta Costera causeway and onto the property. The device was destroyed, but the Presidential Palace was on lockdown for three hours.”
“Who was behind the breach?” Rafael asks.
Cortez shakes his head. “We do not know. I tell you only so you are aware. We may need to address this in the next few days. Domina, there will be a full briefing sent to your email within the hour so you can craft our message.”
“I will prepare several statements for you, Manuel. Is President Garcia holding a news conference today?” I pull out my notebook and pen.
“No. Until the election, we have more important priorities. But as much as we might wish to keep events like this quiet, the press often does not allow it.” Manuel runs a hand through his white hair with a sigh. “I will be at El Palacio de las Garzas for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, we will finish preparing for the rally.” He pushes to his feet and forces a smile. “Thank you for being here so early this morning and for all your hard work this past year. A few more days, and we can celebrate.”
One by one, the rest of the staff follow him from the room, and I sink back in my chair. Several public statements—in addition to polishing his speech for Thursday’s rally—all on less than five hours of sleep. If I expect to accomplish anything today, I need a very strong cup of coffee.
* * *
A few minutes after one,I shut my office door. The National Police officers who arrested the man at my apartment the other night left me a voicemail, and I have not had a moment to call them back until now.
“How can I help you?” Detective Ortiz says when he answers the phone.
“This is Domina Sanchez. You left me a message this morning?”
“Ms. Sanchez, of course.” The detective’s voice wavers, almost hesitant, and anxiety forms a tight knot in the center of my chest. “The man who broke into your apartment Sunday night is no longer in custody.”
I lose my breath for almost a minute until the detective asks if I’m all right.
“Why was he released?” I ask, my voice only slightly above a whisper.
A heavy sigh carries over the line. “Ms. Sanchez, I cannot answer that.”
“Why not?” I shove back from my desk, needing to pace. “He assaulted me!”
“You misunderstand,” Detective Ortiz says quickly. “I do not know why he was released. When I came in this morning, he was gone.”
“Did he escape?” I am so confused—and scared that the man will come after me again. Or Leo. Shit. I need to let him know what happened.
“No. I questioned him several times yesterday and was able to learn his name—Daniel Pinzon—but he refused to tell me why he chose your apartment. We provided medical care for his eyes, though his injuries were not serious. The doctor believed he would suffer no long-term damage to his sight.”
I don’t care about the man’s eyes. I was safe and now I am not. “What are you doing to find him?” I am not proud of the panic in my voice, with Manuel’s news this morning put me on edge, and I cannot handle anything more.
“I sent his name and photo to all our officers. We will find him, Ms. Sanchez. And when I figure out who released him, they will be dismissed from the force. I am sorry I do not have more information for you, but I will keep in touch.”
He hangs up before I can say another word, and I sink back into my chair.
Why did Leo have to tell me about his drinking? Before he said a word, I thought perhaps we could have something real. Right now, I need real. I need to not be alone.
“If you’re in trouble, a locked door won’t stop me.”
After what I did to him last night, would he still come to my aid? My heart says yes, but my head is not so certain.
* * *
A little after3:00 p.m., I take a can of Coke from the refrigerator and trudge out to the courtyard. Protected by high walls, it is one of the few places I can go in the middle of the day and feel completely at peace.
