Ryan glanced down the wide boulevard that ran parallel to the ocean and was lined with hotels, restaurants and bars. How was he supposed to convince her to leave? “Listen. I’m not a chauvinist, but a woman on her own, traveling down the Amazon, is probably not the best idea. Especially when the cartel is looking for you.”
“Don’t you think I haven’t thought of that?” Ellie looked up at him. “I realize this isn’t some sanitized cruise, and we’re not just talking about avoiding leeches and piranhas. It’s not safe. I get it. And in fact, I feel as if I’m poking my finger into a hornet’s nest.”
He didn’t miss the apprehension in her voice or the hint of fear in her eyes as she caught his gaze. But he also didn’t miss the look of fierce determination. The bottom line, though, was that someone was out there, looking for her, and from what his father had told him, they weren’t going to stop until they found her.
“You know my father,” he said. “He will do everything in his power to stop whoever’s behind this. Including finding out what this doctor knows. But you don’t have to do this on your own. It’s not safe. We need to get to the airport and return to the States.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. You don’t have to come with me, but I’m going.”
Ellie started walking away from him, toward the water, still carrying the helmet she’d been wearing. She needed to clear her head. She wished she didn’t feel so angry. Wished her nerves weren’t so rattled. Surely flying to the Amazon to meet the doctor wasn’t nearly as dangerous as riding a motorcycle across Rio with Ryan Kendall. Unless, of course, the cartel managed to track her there as well.
Memories engulfed her, dragging her back to a place she didn’t want to be. Like the last time she’d spoken to her father. He’d apologized for burdening her with his problems, telling her that this case had him on edge, and with the evidence he’d seen, he was ready to give his judgment and see Mauricio Arias remain in prison for the rest of his life. It might not have been the first time he’d received threats, but for some reason, when she’d hung up the phone, she’d been left with the impression that this time was different. This time it was personal.
She had already been worried over the toll the case had been taking on his health, which was why she’d insisted on coming over and making dinner. Normally their weekly Friday-night dinners included takeout and a couple hours of conversation, where they were forbidden to mention politics or law. But after the week her father had had, she’d figured he’d enjoy a home-cooked meal rather than spicy Thai or greasy pizza.
Instead, she’d found her father in the entryway. He was lying on the hardwood floor, a pool of blood beneath him, and his eyes were closed, as if he was sleeping.
Except he hadn’t been sleeping.
She’d knelt over her father and quickly felt for a pulse or a breath—anything that would assure her it wasn’t too late. She’d begged that God would step in and wake her up from this nightmare. Her stomach had twisted as she pulled back his suit jacket, revealing where the bullet had struck his chest. Everything her father had feared had become a reality.
A second later, a bullet had slammed into the wall behind her. She’d glanced at the figure standing in the doorway on the other side of the room as time seemed to momentarily freeze. Dark hair, piercing brown eyes, spiderweb tat on the side of his neck... Details imprinted on her mind as she’d grabbed her phone, then dived behind the paisley couch. A second bullet had struck the arm of the piece of furniture, missing her by only a couple inches. Her father was still lying motionless on the floor, but there had been nothing else she could have done for him. He was already gone. Which meant she’d had to find a way out of the house before it was too late.
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,
