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The plan we came up is amateurish and will never work. Yesterday I hoped that Valentina would come to her senses after a good night’s sleep, but she’s even more dug in this morning.
“We need to practice with the recording equipment,” she says, firing up the espresso machine.
Oh God. “First I need to find it and sneak it upstairs. It might take a day or two.” I intend to stall as long as possible.
“Remember, Marco’s back in a few days.”
I haven’t forgotten. There’s a big red circle around the date in my mind. “Are you going to work up here today or go into the office?” She’s like a dog with a big juicy hambone, and I’d prefer she went to the office, where there is at least the possibility of a distraction.
“I haven’t decided,” she replies, rubbing lotion into her cuticles like it’s a calling.
She didn’t want to look at me while she answered my question.
Valentina has a sixth sense about things. When we were younger and felt particularly hemmed in by our parents, we used to joke about running away, and she would support us by telling fortunes. It’s why this entire thing with Marco is so bizarre. It took her a long time to catch on to him.
“It might be nice to get out of the apartment, even for a few hours.”
“Hmm,” she replies, still avoiding my eyes.
Has she sensed my heart’s not in the plan? Is she going to go off and do something stupid as soon as I turn my back?
Oh, Valentina, I know you believe you’re the best person to bring him down, but he’s a dangerous son of a bitch. And I doubt we even know the half of it.
I can’t wait for her to see reason. I need to act.
With much trepidation, I touch the angel wings dangling from the chain between my breasts. I wear them like the devout wear a medal of Saint Joseph to protect them.
She needs this more than I do. Rafael needs her to have it more than he needs me to have it.
“I’m going to the office,” I tell her, carefully pulling the angel wings out from under my shirt and unclasping the chain. “I’ll hunt around for the surveillance equipment while I’m there. But first I want you to take this.”
Her brow crinkles. “Why do you want me to take the necklace Rafael gave you, that you wear all the time?”
“There’s a tracker in it,” I murmur. “We’re dealing with something that’s more evil than either of us can imagine. If something goes wrong, I want to be sure we can find you.” I stand behind her and secure the chain around her neck, my hands a bit unsteady.
“I’m not going to take any unnecessary chances,” she assures me in a whisper.
I don’t believe her. It’s not that I think she’s lying, but if the moment presents itself, she won’t be able to resist.
I finger the wings when she turns around. She could leave the necklace behind, and I can’t do a damn thing about that. But if she takes it, she won’t be able to disable the tracker, and neither will anyone else. She can’t disappear. I don’t want to lose her, but Rafael won’t survive it.
“The charm unclasps from the chain. Bad people might take your clothes, and they’ll want your phone and jewelry because they know there might be trackers hidden in them.” I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. It’s surreal.
“If you need to, you can hide the charm inside your body,” I continue. “Just don’t wait until the last minute to do it or you might lose your chance.” I don’t let myself think about how very bad people might find it, even hidden in an orifice.
“What about you, baby?” she asks, touching my arm. “I don’t want anything to happen to you either.”
The emotion is swirling around us, and we reach for each other at the same time, wrapping our arms tight.
“I have other tracking devices, and I’m not in as much danger as you might be.”
“I have other trackers too.” She pulls away. “I’m giving this back to you.”
She reaches for the clasp, but I stop her. “We don’t know what’s been compromised. Promise me, Valentina, that you’ll keep this with you, no matter what happens. Think about your family. Especially your mom—she’s been through so much. Promise you’ll keep it with you at all times.”
She holds up her finger so we can pinkie-swear like we did when we were kids. It’s a small, fleeting comfort to link fingers with her. She’s on a mission, and I don’t think she’s anywhere near as concerned about her safety as she should be.
I recognize the feeling.
