Page 115 of Girl in the Water
Chapter Twenty
Ian
“Case is rolled up. I’m heading home,” Ian told Daniela over the phone. Man, he was ready. Russia was great, actually a lot better than he’d expected, but he couldn’t wait to sleep in his own bed again.
“When?”
“Tuesday.”
“That’s the day Bobby is coming back from Montreal.”
She sounded happy. He found himself carefully listening to her voice every time they talked.
“How is that going?” he asked.
“He’s been hinting that he wants us to move in together. Crystal says he’s going to propose.”
A crack formed inside Ian’s chest, rapidly growing into a sinkhole. “You should follow your heart.”
“I will.”
“Congratulations.” He winced. He should have said that first. He wanted nothing but the best for her.
She laughed on the other end. “Let’s wait with that until the engagement actually happens.”
He tried to imagine her with Bobby. Wasn’t hard. She had pictures of the two of them posted to her social media pages. Bobby wasn’t an ugly kid. They looked good together.
Kid had had good grades in law school. Good job now, with good prospects. No red flags. Ian had run a background check on him and his family. Upper-middle class, decent people.
Ian was going to support the relationship if it killed him.
* * *
Eduardo
Eduardo watched the apartment across the courtyard. No lights on tonight.
There’d been lights a week ago. Not Ian Slaney. A young woman. The cleaning girl? A girlfriend?
He didn’t go over. He didn’t want to show himself to her. She might tell Slaney that a stranger was snooping around, and then Ian might never come home. Or he’d come prepared. Eduardo wanted to catch the bastard unaware.
Like Marcos had been caught unaware. Never knowing death would pounce, until they’d brought out the machetes.
* * *
Daniela
“Dinner was perfection.” Bobby leaned back in his chair. “Thank you. Are you ready for your presentation Friday?”
See-Love-Aid was having a big conference at the convention center on human trafficking. The goal was to solicit funds for dissemination of information so people would recognize signs of trafficking and report it. See-Love-Aid was making flyers for truckers and managers of large farms who regularly came in contact with migrant workers. When, months ago, See-Love-Aid was looking for corporate sponsors, Daniela brought the issue up at the law firm where she and Bobby worked.
The firm agreed to a very generous sponsorship. As a result, they were invited to give the introductory speech. But since the lawyers billed about a gazillion dollars a second and didn’t have the time to hang out at the conference, they were sending Daniela.
“I’m ready.” She put the dirty plates in the sink. “It’s just a ten-minute little thing.”
Bobby stood to help with the dishes.
Daniela tried to wave him away. The kitchen in her apartment was tiny. “It’s your welcome-home dinner. You’re not allowed to work.”
