hustle.”
She rested her hands on his shoulders, rubbed at the tension. “I love you, Jayme.”
His gaze softened. “Love you, too. See you on the flip side, honey.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KAIMI USED REGULAR PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION, making several transfers on the local bus system before she reached a place in the city where there was jitney service. It bordered on a favela, not the best place for a woman alone, even at high noon, but at least her brown hair and skin tone blended with the local population. She whispered thanks to the gods and goddesses for her Hawaiian heritage, then boarded the jitney.
She scanned the occupants, chose a seat near the front in case she needed to make a quick exit, and then studied everyone who got on board to ensure no one tailed her. Third stop down she spotted him. Scruffy, worn clothes, even his flip-flops fit with typical local dress, but not his eyes. Icy blue, with danger lurking in the depths of his gaze. He headed for the back of the jitney without pausing to look at her. Her camouflage clothes stood out. A local would have shied away from her, given her a hate-filled stare, or a warm smile. Deliberate avoidance was a dead giveaway. Someone had bugged her belongings.
Change of plans. She couldn’t rent a boat for the trip upriver until she’d lost him. It’d be interesting to know who he worked for and why he’d followed her. She suspected Fred, but no matter who sent him, her priority was to lose him.
The jitney had moved well past the favela border, so she’d be able to blend into the city streets without violating the boundaries of a local gang. Someplace busy. Populated. But she needed to switch out her clothing, so a department store topped her list of to-dos. And she had to ditch her duffle and everything in it. To have found her, someone had to be tracking her. Fion working with an accomplice? Nah. She probably wouldn’t leave camp, and definitely didn’t trust anyone. It had to be someone Fred sent to check up on her. Did that mean they could tell which of the heat signatures at camp belonged to whom? A coil of nausea erupted in her stomach. Damn. Had they watched Eamon attack her?
At the next stop, Kaimi waited until the last possible moment before she jumped off the jitney. She hit the ground with a firm, no nonsense stride, and listened for the decisive slap of the door closing behind her. She didn’t turn around, couldn’t risk it, but there shouldn’t have been time for anyone else to make it through the doors before the jitney took off.
Her nape prickled with a ferocious itch. Maybe the dude hadn’t been able to exit right behind her, but he was sure as hell was watching her. She ducked down a few side streets, spotted a bus coming her way, and hopped on. She’d have to switch buses in a few blocks. This one was heading away from the Mercado Municipal Market, and that would be the best place for her to shop. A huge plus for the Mercado: it was located right on the Rio Negro, and she could easily catch a river taxi for the first part of her trip back to the campsite.
She changed buses at the next stop, didn’t spot her tail, and inhaled a full breath for the first time since she’d jumped off the jitney. Have you lost them, Kaimi, or are they smart enough to stay hidden? Weaving through the public market with purpose, Kaimi surreptitiously stuffed items from her duffle into every trash receptacle she found. When she was down to the clothes on her back and what was left of her cash, she purchased some long pants, a handful of t-shirts, a locally crafted woven tunic, and a shoulder bag made from native jute. She changed in a nearby restroom, and then sauntered through more aisles, browsing for a second outfit, hat, and a pair of flip-flops. Stopping in the next public restroom, she switched out her boots for the flip-flops, changed her top, and made a final stop to select a lightweight travel hammock before she left the market. She’d need
She rested her hands on his shoulders, rubbed at the tension. “I love you, Jayme.”
His gaze softened. “Love you, too. See you on the flip side, honey.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KAIMI USED REGULAR PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION, making several transfers on the local bus system before she reached a place in the city where there was jitney service. It bordered on a favela, not the best place for a woman alone, even at high noon, but at least her brown hair and skin tone blended with the local population. She whispered thanks to the gods and goddesses for her Hawaiian heritage, then boarded the jitney.
She scanned the occupants, chose a seat near the front in case she needed to make a quick exit, and then studied everyone who got on board to ensure no one tailed her. Third stop down she spotted him. Scruffy, worn clothes, even his flip-flops fit with typical local dress, but not his eyes. Icy blue, with danger lurking in the depths of his gaze. He headed for the back of the jitney without pausing to look at her. Her camouflage clothes stood out. A local would have shied away from her, given her a hate-filled stare, or a warm smile. Deliberate avoidance was a dead giveaway. Someone had bugged her belongings.
Change of plans. She couldn’t rent a boat for the trip upriver until she’d lost him. It’d be interesting to know who he worked for and why he’d followed her. She suspected Fred, but no matter who sent him, her priority was to lose him.
The jitney had moved well past the favela border, so she’d be able to blend into the city streets without violating the boundaries of a local gang. Someplace busy. Populated. But she needed to switch out her clothing, so a department store topped her list of to-dos. And she had to ditch her duffle and everything in it. To have found her, someone had to be tracking her. Fion working with an accomplice? Nah. She probably wouldn’t leave camp, and definitely didn’t trust anyone. It had to be someone Fred sent to check up on her. Did that mean they could tell which of the heat signatures at camp belonged to whom? A coil of nausea erupted in her stomach. Damn. Had they watched Eamon attack her?
At the next stop, Kaimi waited until the last possible moment before she jumped off the jitney. She hit the ground with a firm, no nonsense stride, and listened for the decisive slap of the door closing behind her. She didn’t turn around, couldn’t risk it, but there shouldn’t have been time for anyone else to make it through the doors before the jitney took off.
Her nape prickled with a ferocious itch. Maybe the dude hadn’t been able to exit right behind her, but he was sure as hell was watching her. She ducked down a few side streets, spotted a bus coming her way, and hopped on. She’d have to switch buses in a few blocks. This one was heading away from the Mercado Municipal Market, and that would be the best place for her to shop. A huge plus for the Mercado: it was located right on the Rio Negro, and she could easily catch a river taxi for the first part of her trip back to the campsite.
She changed buses at the next stop, didn’t spot her tail, and inhaled a full breath for the first time since she’d jumped off the jitney. Have you lost them, Kaimi, or are they smart enough to stay hidden? Weaving through the public market with purpose, Kaimi surreptitiously stuffed items from her duffle into every trash receptacle she found. When she was down to the clothes on her back and what was left of her cash, she purchased some long pants, a handful of t-shirts, a locally crafted woven tunic, and a shoulder bag made from native jute. She changed in a nearby restroom, and then sauntered through more aisles, browsing for a second outfit, hat, and a pair of flip-flops. Stopping in the next public restroom, she switched out her boots for the flip-flops, changed her top, and made a final stop to select a lightweight travel hammock before she left the market. She’d need
Similar Books
