Page 34 of The Witness

“The longer Sandoval breathes free air, the more danger you are in.” Gunter ignored Michael.

“How do—” I started to ask when Michael cut me off.

“No. Don’t. Wait here. Don’t talk to him until we talk to Smith. We need to regroup. I’ll get the room keys and we can go upstairs and think.” Michael squeezed my shoulders, and I tipped my head back to look up at him.

“It’s too risky. There has to be another way.” His voice hitched, and his thumb rubbed a small circle on the nape of my neck.

I shrugged my shoulder up and caught his hand under my cheek. I leaned into the contact for a precious second. Then he was gone.

Hotel rooms. I’d not even thought of something so mundane as checking in. I looked at Gunter, who’d cocked his head considering me and the now departed Michael.

“He is very protective of you.”

I nodded and rubbed my throbbing temples. The sounds of the bar filled in the silence that lingered between Gunter and me for a few long minutes.

“If Sandoval can do this to your restaurant in the middle of a very posh part of Miami, what else can he do?” Gunter passed me a cell phone.

The images on the screen horrified me. I scrolled back and forth between the four photos of my restaurant. The time, money, sweat, and tears, all wasted. My front glass windows shattered. The beautiful custom-made bar pockmarked with bullet holes. The first section of wallpaper, hung a few days ago, in tatters.

My hands shook so hard I nearly dropped Gunter’s phone. Instead of hurling the phone at the wall, I crushed it in my palm. The carnage made me ill. It wasn’t only the tens of thousands of dollars lost, but all the time and effort I’d put in to earnthe money and build my reputation. I had insurance, but shit. I curled forward like I’d been kicked in the stomach.

My plan to open before the winter season ended in Miami was a key to Viande’s success. A new restaurant needed the winter tourists’ income. If I didn’t hit my February 15 opening date, I was screwed. I’d spent thousands on ads and marketing all around that date. No insurance would cover those expenses.

I felt a black pit open at my feet. The rabbit hole beckoned.

It was end this now and get my life back or, or what? Give up? Give in? Run away? Hope Smith had another plan? I wasn’t that person. I’d promised Hailey.

“It’s not only about you. What about the next innocent that gets in his way?” Gunter leaned across the table, his gaze boring into me. It was like he was searching my soul for the answer to his question.

I’d failed Gabriela Cantoral. The cook at the diner. And poor Lewis, too. I couldn’t have another person’s death or injury on my conscience. Not when I could prevent it.

I nodded at him, sitting tall and squaring my shoulders.

“What if Sandoval isn’t at the party tomorrow?” Fury and determination laced my words and stiffened my spine. I placed Gunter’s phone face down on the table.

It was time to get my life back and ease my guilt. If being bait in this terrifying game of cat and mouse was the only way, so be it. I needed this surreal experience to be over so my mother and I could go back to our lives.

“My intel is rarely wrong. I’ll be at your room at 4pm tomorrow to pick you up for our shift.” He passed me the uniform. “Between now and then, get Steel to agree. I’ll fill you both in on all the details then. Otherwise, I’ll have to recruit some Policía Nacional Revolucionaria officer you don’t know or trust to take his place.”

“Couldn’t you play Michael Dumas?” We stood facing each other, holding our catering uniforms.

“No. I’m too well known in Havana. It wouldn’t work.”

“I’ll try to convince Steel.” The thought of doing any of what Gunter planned without Michael was almost enough to send me into hiding despite all the reasons I couldn’t—or rather, shouldn’t.

“You hold more power over that man than you know.” Gunter gave me another of those Cheshire Cat grins.

“He’s just doing his job.” I looked toward the lobby where Michael had gone.

“I’ve been a bartender even longer than I’ve been a spy. I’ve watched a lot of people from behind the bar. Trust me, you are more than a job to him.” Gunter patted my back.

I wanted to ignore the twinge of pleasure Gunter’s assurance gave me, but it took hold, growing big and important in my fearful and lonely heart. Michael, my superhero, could be so much more.

Chapter 16

Michael

“Iwant to go through with Gunter’s plan.” Sabrina tossed the garment bag with the waitstaff uniform in it on the dark green velvet couch in our hotel suite’s sitting room. I closed the suite’s door and set down our bags. I’d known this was coming; there were clues: the determined set of her shoulders, the clenched jaw, and the stupid uniform.

---