“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last night. She showed up to my class. But then she ran. I followed her, but…”
I shake my head. I can’t speak.
Molly puts her hand on my arm. “This Anna,” she says. “You think, what, that she might have been Victoria Belmond?”
When I finally manage to nod, Molly sits back, stunned. My nodturns into a headshake. Finally, I spout out, “Yes, no, maybe. I don’t know. I’m still trying to put this together. It’s a… it’s a mess.”
“It’s okay. Shh, don’t worry.”
I shake my head again.
“You were young,” Molly says. “Even if it was her, you’d have no way of knowing. How could you have possibly known?”
I don’t know what to say.
Molly tries again. “In Spain, did this girl—this Anna—did she try to give you a signal?”
That confuses me. “A signal?”
“That she was kidnapped. That something was wrong or that she was there under duress.”
I get it. Molly thinks I feel guilty because I hooked up with a kidnapped girl and didn’t realize that she was in danger. I hadn’t thought of that until right now, oddly enough, but maybe Molly has a point.
Was Anna in trouble that whole time? Did I miss the signs?
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Pink Panther Polly.
Car just left estate. We think it’s her. Gary and I following.
My heart leaps and so do I. Molly watches me rise.
“Sami?”
“She’s on the move.”
“What? Who?” Then: “Victoria Belmond?”
I nod. “Or whoever she is.”
“How do you know?”
“My students.”
“What?”
I quickly explain that the Pink Panthers set up a schedule for my students to run surveillance near the estate in shifts. Ethically questionable, I guess, but certainly economical. I’m not a cop anymore, but we learn to make do.
“Can we finish this up later?” I ask. “In a few hours I may know if this is nothing but my imagination.”
“Go,” Molly says. “But one thing.”
I look back at her.
“It’s something I said before, Sami.”