Page 100 of Gone Before Goodbye
There’s more commotion outside. The American man is furious now, demanding that they turn on all the lights.
Time’s up, Maggie thinks.
“Porkchop, I have to—”
“So he’s been alive this whole time?” Porkchop half rants. “And he chooses to stay silent. Even now? He never tries to reach out to his wife or father and tell us…” He stops. “Maggie—”
“I know,” she says. Tears run down her cheeks. Her heart plummets deep in her chest at what is so obvious. “Marc is dead.”
“Then what are we doing here? It’s not our fight.”
The bathroom door bursts open.
“Bye.”
Maggie disconnects and deletes the Vipers number. The screensaver comes on. The center image is a man with a fake tan and blindingly white teeth in some kind of dark club surrounded by young, curvy women holding a huge birthday cake with the message “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE ARTSTER.” The Artster. Maggie shakes her head. My God. Men. She flushes the toilet, puts the phone on top of it, and then hurries out. Alena rushes past her, not so much as glancing at Maggie. When Maggie gets back to the bar, she spots the Artster in a dark suit and blindingly white dress shirt with one too many buttons open. He is still ranting about someone stealing his phone while a young woman tries to calm him—“It’s okay, Arty, it’s here, Arty, we’ll find it, Arty”—and another digs through the cushions.Look at this clown, Maggie thinks. Arty the Artster. Another faux Master of the Universe. Arty shouts for someone to turn on the goddamn lights, but that doesn’t happen. Another young woman joins the search. Then a security guard. Alena hurries back out of the bathroom and immediately gets on her hands and knees to “help” in the search for Arty’s phone.
A few seconds later, in an acting performance that deserves Oscar buzz, Alena shouts in stop-the-presses style: “I found it!” and lifts Arty’s phone into the air.
The other women clap and cheer. Arty scowls.
From across the bar, Alena meets Maggie’s eye. There’s a small, knowing smile on the young woman’s lips. Maggie mouths a thank-you. Arty snatches the phone from Alena’s hand and heads to the exit. He snaps his fingers—actually snaps his goddamn fingers—and two of the women follow.
Then Alena heads to the exit too.
She doesn’t look back when she leaves.
Bob taps her on the shoulder. “Do you want to finish your drink?”
What she really wants to do is follow Alena and make sure she’s safe and okay and take her back home with her, and even while thinkingall of this, Maggie knows how condescending she’s being. Alena had offered her help. No strings, no quid pro quo. It’s a moment in time. Maggie will never forget it. She will never forget Alena. Appreciate the connection, as fleeting as it might have been. It’s so damn human.
Man, Maggie thinks,I’m being awfully deep today.
“Maggie?”
She throws back the rest of the bourbon and puts the glass back on the bar. “Let’s go,” she says. “I need to review those medical files.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Maggie can’t stop thinking about what Porkchop said about Nadia.
Nadia is the reason she ended up at Oleg Ragoravich’s palace.
Nadia is why Maggie nearly got killed.
Nadia is the reason she is here right now in Dubai.
Why? How?
Lots of questions. No answers. Which makes the “plan” even more relevant.
Maggie has to visit Etoile Adiona tonight and find Nadia.
Back in her room, Maggie sits on the king-size bed and opens the first patient medical record. The bed, of course, faces the floor-to-ceiling windows. Night has fallen. The city is still a mirage, but now it’s one of glitz and shadows. The Burj Khalifa, the famed tower, pierces the night like a silent sentinel. The Dubai Fountain shimmers and glistens. Dubai feels remote and endless from up this high. It sparkles like polished diamonds against a jeweler’s black velvet. It dazzles and explodes. It beckons and holds you at bay with a firm hand.
She goes through the medical files. Two patients. One is a five-year-old girl who needs otoplasty—ear pinning surgery. Prominent ears are often an aesthetic concern, particularly so in this world. The human ear is about 80 percent of its adult size by the age of five, so that’s often when this is done—before the age when a kid will be made fun of in school.
The second surgery… Oh man, this is so in her wheelhouse.
