By the time my new phone is delivered to my room, Alonso is gone. I call Sam, and as much as I want to listen to him tell me how much he misses me and what he's been doing, I have to stop him. Staying as calm as I can, I tell him everything that's happened and what I figured out. When I get to the part about Alonso leaving, he makes a sound that is almost unapproving.
“What?” I ask.
“Are you sure you can trust him? You just let him walk out?”
“I had to,” I explain. “When it comes right down to it, the choice is between saving those women and knocking him on his ass for the drugs. Women will win every single time. If I ever have to choose between shutting down a drug trafficking or a human trafficking ring, the drugs aren't even going to register. I'll deal with that when I know those six women are safe.”
“What do you need me to do?” he asks.
“Remember how I was uncomfortable with Greg leaving me his money and his life insurance?”
“Of course,” he says.
“I found a good way to use it. We're going to have to cut our Christmas vacation a little short this year. You have a plane ticket in your email right now. I'm sending you contact information for the resort and exactly what you need to say. You'll be speaking directly to Constance to make your reservation. Be sure to emphasize that the resort comes highly recommended for your particular taste and that you have a specific special request you want to be fulfilled. Say you are interested in having strawberries and cream in the cabins and are willing to pay a premium to ensure you get the juiciest one.”
My stomach turns, and I nearly gag just saying the words. I'm thankful he doesn't have me repeat them. The combination of the words used to describe the women on the expense reports and the code Alonso told me is used when making the drug transactions should be enough to put Constance at ease.
“You have no idea how hard it's going to be for me to be at that resort and not be able to talk to you,” he says. “As soon as I see you, I'm going to want to scoop you into my arms and take you away somewhere where no one will be able to find us for a few days.”
“I already extended my vacation here,” I tell him. “But after two murders and the revelation of a drug and human trafficking ring, I highly doubt that reservation’s going to be honored. But maybe we can find somewhere else when this is all done.”
“Or we can just have a staycation at home,” he offers.
“Deal, as long as you never use the word staycation again.”
He gives a soft laugh, the strained kind of chuckle that comes from knowing the situation around us is brutal, and we have to search for any shred of humor to get us through.
“I love you, Emma,” he says.
“I love you, too, Sam. Be careful.”
We get off the phone, and I wipe a tear from my cheek before turning to Eric.
“Did you get her?” I ask as he hangs up his phone.
He nods. “Mallory Harding. From the Miami Bureau office. Five-foot two, red hair, petite and delicate. She'll be here tonight."
"Perfect. So will Sam."
"What are you going to do now?" Eric asks.
"I need to talk to Joshua."
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Tell me again about the princess we could call Cascada.”
The old man sits outside the small shack built outside the staff village. When I first arrived, he explained he is the only member of the staff of the resort who does not live on the island full time. He barely even considers himself an actual employee of the resort. Instead, he feels like he works for the island. His responsibility is to bring people from the tiny private airport to the resort and back, but he takes it on as his duty to protect the island he loves.
Joshua takes a bite of the fruit cut into a bowl in his lap and lifts his eyes to me.
“This is about the man who died,” he notes.
“Yes,” I say.
“The ocean spirit is angry,” he says. “He loved that girl the way the princess was loved.”
“Joshua, I researched the islands. I can't find anything about why that area is protected. I see that a long time ago, it was considered a historic area, but I can't find anything about actual environmental protections being in place, or what that sanctuary should be for. What else could be protected there?”
He shakes his head. “I don't know. I don't go over there.”
“Because of the ocean spirits?”
“Because it's dangerous,” he shrugs.
“Tell me about the princess again,” I say. “You mentioned grottos.”
“Yes,” he says. “She and her love reunited in the grottos and will live out their eternity there together.”
“But the angry ocean spirit can't, right? That's what you told me?” I ask.
“She's kept from them,” he says.
“Joshua, are the grottos real?”
I try to say the words carefully, not wanting to offend him but needing to make sure there was a difference between the legend and reality. I like listening to his stories, but right now, I need the truth.
“Yes,” he says.
“Real like they could be on a map of the island?” I ask.
“Miss Griffin, just because a story may be hard to believe, doesn't make it any less true. Stories are passed down for generations. They turn from stories into lessons. Ways of explaining the world to make things easier. Maybe the original meaning is lost. But a story about the lovers living together in eternity while the jealous one suffers makes the world easier to live in, do you understand?”
“I do,” I tell him.
He nods. “Good. Yes, the grottos are real. But they are extremely difficult to get to. Cascada is believed to be
