“Anything else?” she asks, extending her hand to take the folder.
“Zane Horvat,” I continue, stating our last condition. “He’s the man who placed the bounty on Nammota for Becker. The one who shot Andrea. He has an extensive criminal record, and he currently supplies Becker with the women who are abused. He’s actively wanted, but is good at evading the law. I’ve supplied you with his address, as well as some of his associates. You need to get them arrested as soon as you can, so the cycle stops until Becker can find new henchmen. But don’t arrest them over those girls. Becker can’t know you’re coming after him.”
“I know how to do my job, Mr. Coleman.” She says nothing for a moment, staring at us alternately. “You two have been busy, haven’t you?”
“Doing whatever we need to survive,” Andrea says.
“Aren’t we all?” When she extends her hand this time, I give her the file. “So, anonymity, destroy some rubber gloves, and make sure Becker and Horvat are arrested. Anything else?”
“We still have your card. We’ll let you know if anything more comes to mind,” I say.
Her clever, trained eyes scan us. “Will Nammota claim all that evidence as his own findings? So I know if I’ll pass for a fool when this all comes out.”
“Haven’t you heard? Nammota has officially retired,” I say. “You’ll never hear from him again.”
“After today, you mean.”
“Whatever you think, Special Agent Lewis.”
I take Andrea’s hand, and we turn around to the three steps down the porch. “Happy hunting,” Andrea chimes, twisting around one last time.
Lightness like I haven’t felt in a while envelops me as we walk to the car. I’m almost certain we made the right call, but if Lewis fails us, we’ll do it our own way. For now, though, our hopes rest on her.
“What now?” Andrea asks once we’re in the car.
“Well, we can hardly be in Portland and not pay a visit to my second-favorite Ibanez woman.”
Her face illuminates with excitement. “You mean my abuela?”
I nod with a grin. “Let’s go see for ourselves how well she’s recovering, shall we?”
Andrea dances in her seat, elated by the prospect. This whole mess kept her away from her loved ones for too long, but it’s almost over. We’ll soon return to Seattle and our lives. We’re almost there.
We just need to wait a little longer.
Chapter 37
Iturn onto my back on the lounge chair, flipping sides so my front can get those last rays of sun before it completely disappears behind the horizon in about half an hour. The sunsets here are truly incredible, and the sky seems on fire, hues of red and orange stretching above us.
As I look toward the sea, I spot my sexy merman, back from his swim. Oh, how I’ll miss watching him walk around barely clothed. Once home, I’ll crank up the thermostat to its maximum settings, and we’ll keep strolling around like this.
Being topless all day was quite the challenge at first, because Lex would not let me have a moment of rest. But I think he’s gotten used to it now, and while his eyes never fail to linger on my exposed breasts for a little too long, he doesn’t pin me down and fuck me in the sand as much.
He reaches me quickly, his skin even more tanned than mine, glistening with droplets of water. He throws his goggles onto the lounge chair near me and comes to sit against me instead, pressing his sea-cooled body onto my sun-warmed one. When he leans in for a kiss, I gladly give it to him. This trip made me love the taste of salt, our bodies always salty from our constant swimming in the sea.
He pulls away as I lick my lips, and a lazy smile stretches the corner of his mouth. “Hi, Mrs. Wilson,” he says with a pinch of humor in his tone.
“Hi, Mr. Wilson.”
“Is this for me?” he asks, pointing at a second margarita next to my half-empty one. I nod, and he grabs it, sipping a few long mouthfuls of the cocktail.
Then he puts the glass down and stares at the sunset.
“Canada was nice, but you have to admit my way of hiding out is way better,” I say with pride.
“It gets a little repetitive, but I’m all for a sustainable routine,” he humors.
We finally made it to that private island off the coast of Belize. But first, we spent a couple of weeks in Seattle, monitoring the situation in Becker’s penthouse. When Special Agent Lewis called to tell us Horvat was in custody, we celebrated with a bottle of champagne, and I convinced Lex we needed a trip somewhere warm, sunny, and sandy. So, armed with the Wilsons’ credit card and the fake passports, I booked us a change of scenery.
