if the house were breathing, the upstairs curtains moved in and out in a rhythmic pattern. Must be a fan, he thought, something to break the still night air. He wasn’t prepared for the image that appeared next in his mind, surprising him with its intensity. Emma in bed. The blond hair shining in the darkness. Her slim body in a nightgown. Her fingers curled against the sheets. In the restaurant this evening, her elegant beauty had made every other woman in the place look overblown, too made up.
Then he remembered his words to Wendy. Emma had had her share of troubles. The file he had on her back at the villa he’d rented contained only the barest details, but they were grim. She’d grown up in Louisiana and met Todd Toussaint at college. They’d married, and two children had followed quickly—but so had disaster.
Todd Toussaint had made sure everyone knew the split was not his fault. He divorced her and her life went downhill quickly. She was fired from the bank, and he gained full custody of the children. Without a family, a job or even references, she’d ended up in Santa Cruz, Bolivia.
Emma Toussaint had nowhere to go and nothing to lose. She was just the kind of woman William Kelman would seek out and use.
All Raul had to do was stand by and watch it happen.
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