Page 66 of Sinner’s Game

But it’s the perfect place for this operation.

The charred hotel is a ruin now, but parts of it still stand, the cinder blocks and metal framing having survived the fire. That’s where Nova is stationed. She’s already in her place when we arrive, three hours before the scheduled meet with Mr. White.

I look up to see her standing at the edge of the mostly collapsed roof and waving down at us. Ronan lifts a hand, and she gives him the okay sign. Her job is to act as a lookout, and if it seems as if Mr. White is going to do anything funky, she’s got orders to put a bullet in his head.

According to Ronan, she’s one of the best sharpshooters in the world. And I can’t help but think how lucky I am that she’s watching my back. Literally, as I’m going to be sitting at a table on the restaurant’s patio facing the opposite direction.

The others are stationed in various spots. Charlie and Penn are closer to me, covering the abandoned restaurant itself, one watching the front in case Mr. White enters through the main entrance and makes his way to the patio that way. The other is on the roof, looking down at us, camouflaged by the siding, but hopefully having a sufficient view to watch us from above.

Derek is on the beach, posing as a local out with his German shepherd. “He comes with his dog to a lot of missions,” Ronan tells me. “Arnold used to be a police dog. He loves the work, and he’s good at it.”

I glance over and think about how much I miss Jake, who I know is romping and playing at doggie day care. I wish I could go meet Arnold, but I know that I can’t. So I satisfy myself with one quick look, then continue following Ronan.

We’d followed a winding, dilapidated driveway from the Coast Highway to the resort, then parked in its now sand-covered lot. The sidewalks that used to lead to this restaurant have long since been covered by sand and debris, and there’s sand in my shoes and in my hair. I know it doesn’t matter, but I’m already uncomfortable enough, and I’m feeling very antsy as I follow Ronan up the weathered steps to the patio dining area.

Ronan leads me to the table the team picked out—one that Nova can see from the resort, Derek can see from the beach, and Shane can see from his station on a small, anchored fishing boat. Charlie and Penn, of course, are even closer, and are also watching me like a hawk.

Ronan points to a bench that runs along the wall that the patio dining area shares with the main restaurant. I’m assuming it was used as a place to seat patrons while they waited for a table. It’s about three tables away from me, but with a clear line of sight. “That’s where I’ll be.”

“You sure he won’t think anything about a homeless guy here?”

“I doubt he’ll even notice me.” He takes off his backpack and starts pulling out various tarps. “I’ll be lying down under all of this. He’ll think it’s just a pile of debris, but if he realizes I’m a person, you can act surprised. And don’t worry, I’ll be able to see you just fine.” He holds up one of the tarps and sticks his finger through a slit that he’s made in the material.

Although he did shower, he didn’t shave, and he intentionally messed up his hair and is wearing ill-fitting clothes that Reggie pulled from the lost-and-found. Even if Mr. White does notice him, he looks enough like a homeless person that he shouldn’t draw too much attention.

He glances around, then taps his earpiece. “Everyone in position?”

I’m not wearing mine yet, so I don’t hear the response, but Ronan seems satisfied.

“We’ve got full coverage,” he tells me. “And Nova’s got eyes on the walkway, too.”

“The walkway?” I turn in my chair so that I can see the cliff that rises up behind the restaurant. At the top of the cliff runs this section of the Pacific Coast Highway. But it’s at least a two-story drop from that roadway to the beach below. A wooden walkway has been built into the cliffside, leading up to a scenic overlook.

Personally, I wouldn’t get on it. I doubt it’s been maintained since the fire, but I’m glad to know Nova’s keeping an eye on it.

All in all, between the cliff, the highway, and the ocean, this is a very secluded location and perfect for today’s meet. It’s also well-covered by the team, making me feel safe and secure. At least as much as I can be under the circumstances.

I meet Ronan’s eyes and grin. “I’m surprised you don’t have someone in a plane above,” I say.

“I was going to,” Ronan admits. “But considering that would stand out, we decided against it.”

“Right. So, what now?” I ask.

“Now we wait.”

I sigh. I know we came early in order to get ready, but this is the part that I’ve dreaded the most. The sitting and waiting until Mr. White shows up. And because we anticipate that he’ll also come early to scope the situation out, we can’t even talk or move about. Nobody except for Derek and Arnold, who are frolicking on the beach.

By the time Mr. White gets here, I expect they’ll be exhausted.

“Let’s get you miked,” Ronan says. “Then I’m going to get in place.” He hands me a little plastic box and tells me to open it. I do and find a small pin, like a tiepin, and also a little black circle of plastic.

“That’s the earphone,” he says, pointing to the black circle. I nod, then slip it into my ear, immediately hearing the chatter between Nova and Derek as they discuss their lines of sight.

“And this must be the mic,” I say, tuning them out as I hold up the tiepin.

He nods, then takes it from me. It’s in the shape of a B, as if it’s a monogrammed piece of jewelry. He puts it on the dress, just on the collar, and his finger brushes my skin. I put my hand over his, forcing him to stop, the pressure of the pin’s backing digging into my chest.

I meet his eyes. “Tell me it’s going to be okay.” I know that everyone can hear me now; the mic is on, and I have my headset in, but I don’t care. I need to hear this.