ANTOINE
The phone rings only once before a smooth, professional voice picks up. “Reception, how may I assist you?”
“Hello,” I say. “I’d like to book a salsa class for two, today. Is that possible?”
There’s a brief pause. “Absolutely, Monsieur Bellay! Give me twenty minutes to make the arrangements. I’ll ensure you and your beautiful wife have everything you need, including the proper attire and footwear.”
Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.This concierge is a pro and deserves a generous tip… Then it hits me—this might be Lino, the man MESS suspects is Kurt’s agent keeping an eye on me.
“May I have both of your sizes?” the concierge asks.
“Of course,” I say. “What’s your name?”
“Lino.”
I give him the information, trying not to think too hard about how Kurt might use it. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he replies smoothly. “I’ll deliver everything personally to your suite in about fifteen minutes, in time for you to join the class that starts in half an hour.”
“Perfect.” I hang up.
True to his word, Lino knocks on the door fifteen minutes later. Laura is in the shower, which suits me very well.
I open the door. There’s no doubt that this mustached man is the same concierge whose picture Pedro showed me yesterday. Lino’s face is neutral, but his eyes sweep the entryway and whatever he can see of the salon the second I open the door.
“Your outfits and shoes, Monsieur.” He holds out two neatly packed bags. “The class starts in fifteen minutes. You need to go to the activity room on the second floor.”
I thank him and take the bags.
“In case any item doesn’t fit—” he begins.
“I’ll call you.” I thrust a tenner into his hand. “Thanks again. You’ve been exceptionally helpful.”
“Thankyou, Monsieur!” His foot shifts forward, as if testing the boundary.
But I don’t budge, still squarely in his way. “I’ll let you know if there’s anything else we need.”
“Great. Enjoy your lesson!”
I shut the door before he can say anything else.
Quickly, I scan the stuff Lino brought for hidden devices or signs of tampering. Last night, I swept the suite for bugs, while Laura was soaking in the tub. I found a bug cleverly camouflaged in the door moldings between the bedroom and salon, to capture the conversations in both. Pedro’s white noise generator came in handy when I was asking Laura about the music box.
She comes out of the bathroom, all fresh and rosy cheeked. We change quickly. Her outfit is a flowy little dress that’s perfect for salsa. Mine consists of a tee and comfortable trousers. Everything fits, even the shoes.
Laura twirls once in the mirror. “That concierge is a godsend!”
“He was sent, all right. But not by God.”
I’m sure Kurt thinks of himself as God, though.Godless people with too much power and money often do.
Laura raises an eyebrow but, thankfully, doesn’t press. We head to the activity room, where Mario, the salsa instructor, greets us with enthusiastic hand claps.
“Welcome, my friends!” he exclaims. “You’re going to have so much fun today!”
“Just so you know, I’m a total beginner at salsa,” Laura warns him.
“Not to worry! Salsa isn’t about dancing—it’s about feeling!”
