Page 95 of Hard Limits

“Nah, the times I saw her out, she was with a Portuguese guy.”

“The same guy? How many times?”

“Twice? Maybe three times?”

“Do you know who he was?”

Benji shook his head. “Not his name, but he always said hello. Try asking Katie. Meera and her always gossiped while they were working.”

“Is she here today?”

“She was in the herb garden earlier.”

CHAPTER 34

THE ASSISTANT

“If there was a French guy or a Belgian guy, she must have met him literally that night. Here, try this dill.” Katie held out a tufty bunch as we sheltered from a rain shower in a giant polytunnel. “Last year, I planted it right in the ground and slugs ate it all, but this year, I planted it in plug trays and it turned out amazing.”

Katie was a fellow American, and this was her third trip to Quinta do Lago. She’d spend a few months working on the land, then return to the US to visit with family and take seasonal work—last year, she’d found a job as one of Santa’s elves from September through December. Yes, September. Christmas started early these days, and the mall she worked in wasn’t about to miss out on a commercial opportunity. One summer, she’d been arranging Halloween displays.

I sniffed the dill cautiously. “Very good.”

“Try it with pierogi. Dorota’s visiting from Poland this month, and she makes amazing pierogi. That’s one thing I love about being here—the food’s always better than we get back home. Everything’s so fresh.”

“Did Meera mention a new boyfriend of any nationality?”

“There was a guy called Javier—I think he was Spanish, and also Afonso. He was local. But I wouldn’t call them boyfriends, more like one-night stands.” Oh, Meera. “She preferred dark-haired guys.” Which figured. Alfie was blond. “And the day she disappeared, she told me she was going out salsa dancing. She didn’t mention hooking up, although I guess it’s possible she did that too.”

“What do you think happened?” Ari asked. “You were probably as close to her as anyone in those last few weeks.”

“Honestly? I’m worried. The guys say she just went off with a new boyfriend, and I suppose…I suppose at first, I wanted to believe that. But then she missed a yoga class without telling any of her students, and she loved teaching yoga.”

Ari squeezed her hand. “We’re going to find her.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Do you know which bar she went to?”

“I just assumed it was Mercado. They have salsa dancing on Wednesdays. It’s always popular, and there’s an instructor to help people. Meera likes him, but he’s Brazilian, not French.”

At that moment, I swore if I ever broke up with Brax, I’d find solace in pints of ice cream and romcoms, not in the arms of another man. This was a nightmare. But Brax was right here with me, going above and beyond, and I knew he was the only man I’d ever want. One in a billion. The money didn’t matter; it was the person inside I loved. His strength, his kindness, his ability to give me hope.

As we walked away, I leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“For being you.”

The hostel was a depressing building on the outskirts of Fundão. Meera had picked it because it was cheap and within cycling distance of Quinta do Lago, not for its facilities, which would have received half a star at most. The manager, Silvio, wasn’t happy about our presence, and he didn’t speak much English, but he did look as if he’d seen a ghost when I walked in. Cue rapid-fire Portuguese, which I understood none of.

“He thought you were Meera,” Tulsa explained. “Which was a surprise to him, especially after the police visit.”

“Can you ask him what he knows?”

“I already told everything to the police,” he told us via Tulsa. “I can’t help you.”

“The police aren’t looking for Meera; we are. You were the last person to see her—could you just tell us about the man she was with?”

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