Uncut Bundle

Matthew’s mouth thinned. “Why would it?”

“I checked your background. I know the story. You lost a partner. Can you stand by and let me lose my fiancée to the same people?”

A gust of wind snatched at the photo Matthew had left on the table. He caught it and looked at it again.

“Why did she try to smuggle coke?”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“You said, for the money.”

“Then why ask me again?”

“Maybe it was for kicks.”

“What does it matter? She did it, and now—”

“Maybe she did it for you.” Matthew smiled coldly. “Maybe you’re the one behind the smuggling. Or maybe your fiancée wanted out of the relationship and that’s why she split.”

Hamilton’s teeth clenched. “Are you accusing me?”

“I’m simply pointing out that if I start turning over rocks, there’s no telling what I might find.”

“You’ll do it, then.”

Matthew looked at the photo. He wished it had been taken at closer range. There was something in Mia Palmieri’s eyes…

“Who saw her last?”

“My cook. She brought Mia lunch beside the pool. When she went back for the tray, the back gate was open and Mia was gone.”

“I want to talk with the cook and the rest of your staff.”

Hamilton’s eyes glittered. “Thank you, Mr. Knight.”

“Don’t thank me until you have your fiancée back, Colonel.” Matthew glanced at his watch. “I have a rented SUV. What’s your address?”

Hamilton named a street high above the city, in one of Cartagena’s most expensive neighborhoods.

Matthew nodded. “I’ll meet you there.”

Inside his rented Escalade, he took out the photo, held it against the steering wheel and stared at Mia Palmieri. The lady sure as hell didn’t look like a drug smuggler, but Matthew’s years in the Agency had taught him that the old adage was true.

You couldn’t judge a book by its cover.

Still, there was something in her eyes…

He stared at the photograph for a long minute. For reasons he didn’t understand, he stroked his thumb lightly over Mia’s parted lips.

Then he turned the key, put the Escalade into a tight U-t

urn, and headed up into the hills.

Hundreds of miles away, in a hotel room high in the Andes, Mia Palmieri jerked upright from a restless sleep.

Something had brushed against her lips.

Heart pounding, she touched her mouth. There was nothing there.