Page 334 of The Black Trilogy

Ramos junior stood shorter than I’d imagined, about five feet seven, and sported a bit of a potbelly. The living Barbie doll at his side would have towered over him even if she wasn’t wearing five-inch heels. Someone needed to give him a box to stand on.

He headed clockwise around the room while Seb and I went the other direction, and eventually, our paths crossed. The little toad shook hands with Seb then looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on my chest. Good. While he stared at my cleavage, he wasn’t paying attention to my face.

Seb introduced me out of politeness. “This is Maria.”

Diego stepped forward to kiss my cheek, and I leaned back slightly, holding out my hand instead. My fingernails jabbed him in the chest. Oops. He looked surprised but shook, his hand clammy.

“Diego Garcia,” he told my cleavage. “Delighted to meet you, Maria.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Diego,” I replied in Spanish after I’d managed to un-grit my teeth.

Unfortunately, Seb had made me leave my gun in the car and when I denied having any other weapons, he’d patted me down and pocketed the knife I’d hidden in my bra. Git. Even so, I considered strangling the man in front of me with my bare hands—the right angle, a little leverage, and I could snap his neck like a chicken. Actually, not quite like a chicken. I’d feel remorse over the bird. Diego, not so much.

He kept talking, his serpent-like tongue darting out to moisten his little sausage lips. I was tempted to cut it out, or better still, make him wear it as a Colombian necktie. It was important to preserve local traditions, was it not? Perhaps Eduardo could give me some tips.

“This is Lucia,” he said, introducing the bored-looking blonde.

Oh, right, this was the part where I was supposed to be nice. I managed a grimace that might have passed for a smile and shook backwards-Barbie’s proffered hand.

Seb took over the conversation and went through the full repertoire of waffle—business, the weather, tourism, the usual. Finally, he got to the good bit. “Your brother didn’t come tonight, then?”

I held my breath, waiting for the answer. Where was that son of a biscuit?

“No, Carlos stayed behind. He had things to do.”

Maybe a bombing, shooting, last minute execution, something like that. Still, at least Diego had confirmed his whereabouts.

“And give my best to your father. Is he busy too?”

“He’s also at home.” Diego patted his stomach. “Food poisoning. He ate some bad shellfish a couple of days ago.”

Aw, my heart bled for him. I hoped he pooped himself to death.

Lucia interrupted to ask where I got my shoes, and by the time I’d lied and told her I got them shipped in from Paris just for the occasion, Diego was turning away to talk to the next couple. Rats.

We hung around for another hour or so, watching Diego until he left. Seb managed to win a deep sea fishing trip for two in the charity auction before we went back home ourselves.

“Do you like fishing?” I asked as we drove off.

“I don’t even like fish.”

“Why did you bid for a fishing trip, then?”

“I felt I should put something back into the community.”

In addition to an endless supply of coke, obviously. How selfless. Don’t get me wrong, I liked Seb, but the whole thing was so two-faced it left me cold.

I wanted to reply “How very noble of you,” but I bit back the sarcasm. “At least we know where Carlos and Hector are.”

“Yes, and the old man is ill, even better. What did you think of Diego?”

“Arrogant. Short.” Dead.

Seb laughed. “You’ve summed him up perfectly.”

As soon as we got back to Eduardo’s estate, I kicked my heels off gratefully before slipping out of my dress and between my silver sheets to get some sleep. I needed a clear head the next day.

Why?

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