She tried to shake off the memories that had yet to stop chasing her the past couple months as she walked past a beach vendor selling coconut water straight from the coconut to a couple of tourists. On any other day, Copacabana Beach, with its long stretch of shoreline, crystal blue waters and the magnificent Sugarloaf Mountain in the background, was one of her favorite places in the city. But today, she didn’t really see any of it.
How was she supposed to make Ryan understand she couldn’t return with him?
She stopped at the edge of the sand, not far from where a father and son were building a sandcastle. She and Ryan always had been polar opposites growing up. His father had mentioned that he’d spent a decade as a navy diver and now worked as a saturation diver for oil companies. She wasn’t sure what the job entailed, but she was pretty sure it was dangerous. She definitely wasn’t the adventurous type, but this wasn’t the time to admit to him how terrified she felt. If she did, she had a feeling he’d kidnap her himself in order to get her to return.
But the risks involved didn’t change anything. Not now.
“Ellie...”
She felt a surge of resolve run through her as he stepped up next to her. She studied his lean, solid profile, stopping at his strong jawline and five-o’clock shadow. She trusted him, but only because she trusted his father, and his father had sent him. She also knew that flying to the Amazon hadn’t been a part of the bargain. But until the authorities found her father’s killer, she’d always be looking over her shoulder, and that wasn’t a life she intended to live any longer. Which was why she had no plans of backing down. With or without his help.
“I need to find out the truth,” she said, “because I’m tired of running. Nor can I simply ignore the information the doctor has.”
She caught the hesitation in his eyes, knowing they needed to leave. Even if they had managed to evade the man who’d tried to grab her in the favela, they were still out in the open and exposed. But this wasn’t a fight she was willing to walk away from.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that,” he said. “Once we get to the safe house back in the States, you can meet with my father and tell him about this doctor and the information he has. I’m sure he’ll be willing to send someone to meet with the man.”
The warm sun made her long to take off her shoes and dig her toes into the sand, as if it was just a normal day. “That’s not good enough. Dr. Reynolds is risking his life to meet with me, which means I owe it to both him and my father to go speak to him. And he told me that he’ll only meet with me. Not the authorities.”
“Are you forgetting that not only did your aunt manage to track down your cell phone number and location, we were just chased out of the favela?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but I need to show you something.” She pulled a couple photos out of the side pocket of her bag, desperate for him to understand. “This is my father a couple months before he was killed. He was a huge sports fan, and I surprised him with tickets to watch the Dallas Mavericks for his birthday. And this—” she showed him the second photo “—this is the sketch I drew of the man who killed my father, then burned down his house.”
Ryan let out a soft sigh. “My father told me about what happened, and I am truly sorry for your loss.”
“What exactly did he tell you?” she asked.
“That three months ago your father was murdered by members of the cartel and his house was burned down in connection to a high-profile case he was presiding over. And that you were a witness to who murdered him—and despite what the news channels all reported, you were very much alive.”
Except for Ryan’s father, she hadn’t spoken to anyone about that day. Her friends back in the United States thought she was dead, and her new friends here couldn’t find out what had happened to her. It was a burden she’d had to face on her own with only her faith to carry her through.
“The last time I spoke with my father,” she continued, “he sounded distracted. Preoccupied. He’d hinted about the strain of the cartel-related triple homicide. When I pressed him for more information, he assured me nothing was wrong, but I didn’t believe him. Especially when he admitted there was missing evidence and a string of threats directed toward him.
“The next day, I found him lying in the entryway of his house in a pool of blood.” She fought back the emotion as she looked up at Ryan. “I don’t need a sketch to remember what his murderer looked like, because I see him every night when I close my eyes to go to sleep, and every time I’m reminded of why I’m here. Your father helped me disappear. Helped leak the rumor to the media that I’d died in the fire so the cartel wouldn’t come after me. And yet even that didn’t stop them from looking for me.”
“Why don’t you contact the authorities and tell them what’s happening?” he asked.
She ignored the string of vendors heading their way with offers of ice cream, skewers of shrimp and henna tattoos. “Because there’s a leak somewhere in the investigation, and besides your father, I still don’t know who I can trust. Your father’s been trying to figure out the truth, but he’s walking a fine line, and so far, he hasn’t been able to.”
“You have to understand that I’m truly sorry for everything that has happened to you,” Ryan said, motioning to the men that they weren’t interested in buying anything. “But my father sent me here to ensure your safety. Not to take you on some wild-goose chase that may or may not pay off.”
“And I need you to understand why I have to stay and find out the truth.”
“I do, but—”
“No. I don’t think you do understand. Arias is known for his brutality. He has people working for him—hired to do his dirty work—along with people he pays in order to ensure he walks, which is why my father is dead. And why I’ll be dead as well if he gets his way.”
“I get that, but you and I aren’t equipped to carry out an investigation. What you just told me about Arias should be reason enough for both of us to get as far from here as possible.”
“So, what? I just keep running. Keep playing this game of cat and mouse until someone finds my dead body and he gets away with murder again. He knows I’m alive.”
“No. Of course not—”
“That’s why I need to meet with the doctor.”
Today, Ryan Kendall might not be the irritating teenager she remembered—after all, he had just shown up unexpectedly and rescued her—but he was still just as stubborn. And so was she, and she had no intention of changing her mind.
“I need you to take me to the bus station,” she said, heading back toward the bike.
Ryan hurried to catch up with her. “Why?”
“I decided that if I ever needed to get out quickly, I was going to be ready this time. I’ve got a bugout bag in one of the lockers with some things I’ll need, including a burn phone. I’ll stay at a hotel tonight, then take a taxi to the airstrip in the morning.”
“And this contact you’re supposed to meet with, this doctor. Where are you meeting him?”
“I’ve got a pilot flying me to an airstrip that’s located near the small village where he’ll be.”
“I’m coming with you.”
She stopped, turned around, then quickly stepped out of the way of a couple of kids. “I’m not asking you to come with me.”
“Maybe not, and while I’ll probably regret this, I’m volunteering. But on one condition.