Page 44 of Savage Beauty

When I arrive, there’s a woman with strawberry blonde hair and long nails standing beside the coconuts. The ends of her pointy nails are a punch-colored pink, and the base is a milky white. On one nail, there are three diamonds clustered near the apex of the nail. Are those glued on, or did they puncture it like an earring? I can’t imagine having nails that long. They would click on the keyboard when I typed and probably make it harder to notate.

“Do I know you?”

“I don’t believe so, as I’m here on vacation.” I reach for a papaya as I lie. The fruit is ripe. Slightly soft, but not too soft. Perfect. My stomach rumbles, and a slight shake befalls my hand, most likely a sign of low blood sugar.

“You look like a woman who rents from me. But they say everyone has a doppelgänger.”

She’s the woman who works behind the desk. I saw her once. She has a good memory. I don’t remember her nails, and I’m sure if she’d had them before, I would’ve remembered them.

An older man with wrinkled dark skin approaches, and he takes my money for two papayas.

“How long are you here for?” The eclectic nailed woman picks up a papaya and squeezes, the same way I did.

“We leave on Saturday.” Most people who come stay for a week. Saturday and Sunday are the busiest travel days of the week.

“Are you enjoying it?”

“Yes. I went snorkeling today.”

“Nice. If you get a chance, go on a sunset cruise. Have you seen any of those? I have a coupon you can use. If you use it, I get a little money from it, but it’s?—”

“I don’t like boats.”

Gravel churns under tires as a car slows, rolling past us into the parking area to the side.

“Hope you have a good day,” I say to the woman and step past her, watching the four-door car. I lift my bike off the ground and set the papayas in the basket. Just beyond the car, two men are talking. My body reacts like I’m in a movie.

I recognize one man. The markings on his back. Inverted triangles in a circle. An intricate pattern of lines partially obscured by a dingy white tank.

Anton Solonov’s tattoos. Unmistakable. Unforgettable. He’s talking to a man who is about a foot and a half shorter than him.

I grip the plastic handles on my bike and shove down hard on the right pedal.

Just go. Don’t look back. Just go.

CHAPTER15

Max

On my phone, I see the dot moving steadily in my direction. The second she left, I turned my phone on and watched the dot. Throughout the call reviewing schematics and floor plans, I watched the dot.

In theory, no one knows we’re here. We flew in on a private plane and our identities weren’t run through any database. We’ve been here for four days and have seen nothing remotely suspicious.

Still, when she left, my stomach twisted. I told myself to calm the fuck down. We’re on a vacation island loaded with tourists. It didn’t help that, as she was leaving, Erik asked if it was a good idea for her to go out on her own. Erik, the tech guy who lives behind a keyboard and monitors. The guy who has a team monitoring the handful of intersections and parking lots with surveillance cameras connected to hackable servers.

They haven’t seen a damn thing. Nothing suspicious. Also, no Dr. Kallio, which is concerning.

The last time we came here, a mere six weeks ago, when Sloane first went missing, it had been a waste of time. The kinds of crimes that take place on this vacation paradise aren’t the violent type. They’re the type that forensic accountants find. This is one of the world’s safe spaces to hoard the monetary rewards from crimes that take place in other countries. It’s not a place known for crime.

Still, someone abducted Sloane once from this very island. I told Knox I’d keep her safe. Hell, not just Knox. The Arrow team is counting on me. Sure, it’s easy to let your guard down when you spend the day out snorkeling. What the hell am I doing? I’m not here on vacation. I’m here on a job.

I scan the street, looking to my right, in the direction of the dot. She should be coming up at any moment.

And there she is. My breath comes a little easier.

Letting her go out on her own was a bad idea. A very bad idea. But she’s okay. She’s fine. I got all worked up for nothing. Damn Erik and his paranoia.

She’s bent over the handlebars and pumping her legs like she’s getting in max reps on a sprint.

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