Page 3 of Escape to the Sun

“You know it, Miguel.”

Ash had sort of adopted the boy—or more likely, it was the other way around—only about a year before on a trip into town. He had a huge order from Sherri that required more than one trip to the boat, where he’d have to leave supplies unsupervised. That was never a good idea in a place like Bocas Town. Not unless you felt like paying for those supplies twice. The second time with a local tax attached. That’s where Miguel came in. For a small fee, usually the price of a sandwich or a bottle of soda, he’d happily guard anything for Ash. Or carry bags, or pretty much help out with whatever was needed.

As far as Ash was concerned, it was the perfect symbiotic relationship.

“Where we headed?”

Ash pointed up the street. Everything in Bocas Town was within a few streets. It was small, but the town managed to pack in a whole lot of trouble in such a tight space.

“The clinic?”

Ash nodded.

“What ya gettin’ there?”

He shrugged. “You know Ms. Sherri. Could be anything.” And it could have been. With Sherri’s place so far away from town and the clinic—as basic as it was—she liked to have a well-stocked first-aid kit for her guests. Just in case. Not that there’d ever been a case. Nothing more serious than a monkey bite, anyway. “Comin’?”

Ash didn’t need to ask. Miguel was right behind him like a crow picking up crumbs. Not for the first time, Ash wondered what Miguel’s home life was like.

Or whether he had one at all.

“All right, kid. We have lots on the list today. I’ll need all the muscle power you can handle.”

Miguel flexed his scrawny arms. His smile was so hopeful, Ash would find him a whole afternoon’s worth of work, even if he had to make it up.

* * *

The insideof the Bitter End was not at all what Heather expected. Not that she had any idea what to expect. But if it was a bed-and-breakfast she was looking for, the Bitter End was decidedly not that. Just inside the door was a small doorway with numbers labeled on a piece of paper tacked to the wall. She peeked inside and saw two rows of bunkbeds with backpacks, towels, and underwear slung over the frames.

Interesting choice for a bed-and-breakfast.

She followed the pumping music, lulled as if it was the Pied Piper leading her out of town instead of into what could only be described as a pit of pleasure. If your idea of pleasure was lounging around on hammocks and overstuffed chaise chairs, spending your day drinking and smoking all kinds of things. It wasn’t hers. But maybe because she got her hard partying days out of her system many years ago. Now, Heather would settle for a good book and a quiet place to enjoy it. Far away from the pounding music.

She took another look around.

She’d signed up to run a bed-and-breakfast. Not a youth hostel. But things were a little foggy in Central America and there were more shades of gray when it came to things like this than there were colors in the rainbow. It wouldn’t surprise her if she’d signed up, sight unseen, to spend the next six months slinging drinks to backpackers.

She would have sighed—or more likely, cried—if she thought it would do any good. But Heather had been out in the world long enough to know it wouldn’t have any impact on the outcome. Besides, she was up for an adventure if need be. Anything that allowed her to move on.

Which was exactly why she was there and exactly why she was going to keep forcing her smile until finally it stayed put on her face, where it needed to be.

She’d do what she had to.

Especially if it meant staying in Panama and not returning home to her I told you he was no good—you should have listened to me and stayed home mother.

Heather dropped her hand on the plywood but it wasn’t necessary. A glass of something red, sweet, and dangerous-looking appeared in front of her.

“Welcome, chica.”

Heather waved her hand to dismiss the drink. “I didn’t order that.”

“You didn’t have to.” The man’s grin was toothy, warm and practiced. “It’s on me. And you clearly need it. Name’s Mick.” He didn’t offer his hand, a fact Heather was grateful for. It had been a long day, followed by a long week on Cass and Archer’s boat, preceded by a long life. At least that’s how it felt at that moment. She’d lived a lifetime in the last few months. A life she no longer wanted to live. “Drink, Heather. Then we’ll talk.”

He left her alone, another fact she was grateful for. She was halfway through the drink that was every bit as sweet as she expected it to be, and only half as strong as she needed, before she realized that he’d known her name.

She finished the drink, and then another that was placed in front of her before the man came back. This time he held out his hand, and she was ready for it. “Nice to meet you, Heather. Welcome to Bocas. Feeling better?”

“Was it that obvious?”

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