by Mason Cross
She walked along the beach, savoring the warmth of the sun on her face and staring out at the kids playing on the beach, and the blue expanse of the Pacific beyond. She liked to be close to the water. Perhaps it was all that time she had spent in the last few years so far away from the ocean. She had hated Vegas and its suburbs. Arizona too. The arid desert climate had always made her feel hemmed in. By contrast, the deep blue sea seemed to represent the possibilities of an uncharted future.
She thought occasionally of the people she had left behind. After the initial adrenaline of her escape from Las Vegas had subsided, she had found she missed Dom more than she expected to. He had been a crook and a loser, and he had been more than capable of being a jerk at times, but he had really loved her. His fate had been of his own making, but she felt a little responsibility regardless. She could have talked him out of the Ellison job. She was good at talking people in or out of things. When the time came to commit, she had wanted to do it as much as he had.
Sarah, she still felt guilty about. Sarah had been the one bright spot of that difficult period in Summerlin, during which she had made the decision to gamble the relatively safe life she had built up for herself on a new start. She might have gone insane biding her time in that boring little house, waiting for the other shoe to drop, without her daily conversations with Sarah. She wondered if Sarah believed that it had all been an act; just a way to blend in and keep tabs on the neighborhood gossip. She hoped not.
The other person who occupied her thoughts lately was no stranger to them. She had spent so long being angry with him, and when they had finally met again, she had felt ... differently. She was sure he felt differently about her, too. Although she knew she had the means to contact him, to break the glass, she had not done so. She wondered where he was now, what he was doing.
She took her usual table in the café she visited every Friday morning. It had an unobstructed view of the beach and the ocean. Felipe, the manager, spotted her and smiled. He held up one finger to say “one minute.”
She sat down and saw that somebody had left a copy of today’s newspaper on the table. Something of a novelty, these days. She glanced at the headline story, something about a double murder in Lázaro Cárdenas, the big city along the coast. Related to the drug wars, by the looks of things, as most outbreaks of violence were down here. She raised an eyebrow when she saw that the victims had been two American men. She scanned the story. Her Spanish was improving, but it still took her a while to process the words. And then she felt a jolt as a familiar name passed before her eyes. Disgraced former Las Vegas police detective Raymond Costigane and another man named Walter Donald Beck, who was a Nevada businessman strongly rumored to have ties to the underworld.
She felt a shiver and looked around. Nothing had changed in her immediate surroundings. The Australian family in the corner was still bickering good-naturedly over what to order for breakfast. Actually, it was closer to lunchtime, which would make it Almuerzo. The kids on the beach were happily building sand castles.
“The usual?”
She looked up at the smiling face of Felipe, who had appeared at the table.
“What?”
“Huevos Rancheros, toast, orange juice, right?”
Her brow creased. “Actually, all of a sudden I don’t feel so hungry, I think I’ll—”
She had turned her eyes toward the door and stopped as she saw someone new had entered. The man was wearing jeans and a white cotton shirt with the sleeves loosely rolled up. His green eyes were concealed behind sunglasses, but she knew he was looking straight at her. She stared back at him, and Felipe followed her gaze.
“Friend of yours?”
She broke the stare and looked back at Felipe. “On second thoughts, just bring us two black coffees. Thank you.”
He took another look at the man, nodded, and moved away.
Carter Blake crossed the floor and took the chair opposite her. He removed his glasses.
They just looked at each other in silence for a minute. She reached for the newspaper and slapped it down on the table, turning it around so that he could read the headline.
“What do you know about this?”
Blake’s eyes didn’t move from hers. He didn’t even glance at the newspaper.
“Some nasty business with the cartels, from what I hear. Seems like somebody got the idea these two were down here trying to muscle in on the Sinaloa’s action.”
“And how did they get that idea, I wonder?”
“Beats me. I don’t think Mr. Costigane and his friend will be missed, do you?”
She shook her head, allowing herself a little smile. “I suppose I should thank you.”
Blake looked innocent. “For what?”
The coffee arrived and she tried to ignore the fact that it felt good to see him. Her relationship with him six and a half years ago had turned her life upside down. She had left everything and everybody she knew behind. She had hidden herself away in the darkest corners of the country, always looking over her shoulder, until hiding became as natural as breathing. That chance meeting in New York City had set her on the path to where she was today. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that.
“I know you didn’t just come here for my benefit,” she said. “You couldn’t help yourself. You don’t like to lose.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Blake said. “I decided it had been too long since I had taken a vacation south of the border. Got here today and by coincidence, I see an old friend. Small world, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes a little too small,” she agreed. ‘I wouldn’t have let Costigane get near me, you know that. You know I can take care of myself.”
He took a sip of his coffee. “I thought so. But better safe than sorry. Costigane jumped bail and disappeared. I thought it would be worthwhile having a look for him, but now he’s dead I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about. Assuming you’re careful.”
“I’m always careful,” she said.
Blake stared at her and then nodded. “Good.”
“So are you in town long? On this ... vacation?”
“Not long. I’m leaving this afternoon, in fact.”
“I’m sorry,” she said after a minute.
“What for?”
“For what happened in Vegas. I know I left you and Sarah in danger, and nothing I can say will make up for that.”
“It wasn’t all your fault.”
“Maybe. Like it wasn’t all your fault back in New York. God, I was so angry with you for years.”
“And now?”
“Not as angry.”
Blake smiled. “This isn’t exactly how I thought it would go, if I ever saw you again.”
“That makes two of us.”
Something about him had changed since New York, and it wasn’t just his name. It wasn’t a good or a bad thing, it just was. All of a sudden, she was put in mind of that Ancient Greek aphorism, about how no man steps into the same river twice. Perhaps no one ever meets the same person twice, either.
They sat in comfortable silence for a minute, and her thoughts turned to her next destination. Blake was probably right: with Costigane and his partner dead, there was no one alive who knew where the rest of the Ellison diamonds had wound up. But it wouldn’t do to be complacent. Her next move had to be far from here. That was okay, though. The diamonds she had emerged from the tunnels with had eventually netted her a nice return from the fence in Juarez. Not two million dollars, but enough to buy a lot of possibilities in places like this. She could make those plans later. For now, there was just the two of them, and the ocean, and another morning of clear blue skies and white sandy beaches.
“How long do you have before you have to go?”
Blake seemed to consider the question carefully. “A little while.”
She reached her hand across the table. “Carter Blake, right?”
He took her hand. “Right.”
“Alexandra Loomi
s, nice to meet you. Would you like to take a walk on the beach?”
Blake turned from her and looked out at the expanse of sand and the Pacific beyond. When he turned around again, there was a trace of amusement in his green eyes.
“I’d like that.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The list of people who help me write a novel seems to grow with each new one I complete. First of all, thanks to my wife Laura, and the kids Ava, Scarlett and Max (the boy with many names) for both inspiring me and putting up with me as I wrestle these things into shape.
Huge thanks to my outgoing editor Jemima Forrester for helping me get this book started, and to my brand new editor Francesca Pathak for getting me across the finish line. Thanks also due to Jon Wood and Bethan Jones for helping to make the transition smooth, and their great ideas and enthusiasm for the next one. All of the fine people at Orion in fact, particularly Angela McMahon, Lauren Woosey, Laura Swainbank, Virginia Woolstencroft and Marissa Hussey.
My wonderful literary agent Luigi Bonomi, Alison Bonomi and all at LBA for generally being fantastic and always going the extra mile. A big thank you to Richard and Judy, and the team at WHSmith for the boost.
My early readers Laura Morrison, Mary Hays, James Stansfield and Eve Short. Susi Holliday for some last-minute assistance. Claiborne Hancock, Iris Blasi and everyone at Pegasus in the United States. All of my crime writer buddies, too numerous to name here but you know who you are; we have the coolest workplace in the world – see you at the bar.
All of the booksellers, bloggers, librarians and most importantly, readers – I hope you like this one, and yes, I’m working on the next Blake book already.
DON’T LOOK FOR ME
Pegasus Books Ltd
148 West 37th Street, 13th Floor
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2018 by Mason Cross
First Pegasus Books hardcover edition January 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review in a newspaper, magazine, or electronic publication; nor may any part of this book be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or other, without written permission from the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-68177-628-6
ISBN: 978-1-68177-696-5 (e-book)
Distributed by W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.
