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“Javier runs the show in Colombia. But you’re missing the point. Javier hired me because someone hiredhimto keep you out of the United States for a few weeks—maybe a month or two. Someoneelsehired Javier to make sure you never came back. Get it?”

He did, having survived the attempted murder-by-freefall. But even more chilling was the way Javier’s words—what he’d actually said—finally came clear to him.

“El jefe del jefe.”

“What?”

“I was confused about what Javier said before shoving me off the mountain. He was talking in Spanish, and I thought he said he was taking orders from ‘the boss.’ But it was ‘el jefe del jefe.’”

“The boss of the boss,” she said.

“Which is still only one person. But you’re saying there are two people giving Javier orders. How do you know that?”

“I heard Javier talking on his satellite phone.”

“Are you still working with him?”

“No! Why would I be telling you all this if I was still working with Javier?”

“Whyareyou telling me all this?”

“Because I’m going to get you out of here.”

“Butwhy?”

In her eyes, he thought he saw the answer, and he was suddenly reminded of the lark and nightingale. But his question drew resentment.

“Why would a girl like me do the right thing if there’s nothing in it for me? Is that what you’re asking?”

“No. That’s not at all what I was getting at.”

“I thought you were different, Patrick. Thought you’d see me as a real person.”

“I do. I’m sorry.”

She breathed out some of her anger. “Fine. If it puts you at ease, I swear, I expect nothing in return. Javier hired me to keep you happy and make you want to stay. But I never signed up to get you or anyone else killed. Do you want me to help you, or don’t you?”

“I do,” he said, no more questions asked.

Olga opened the door and slipped away, leaving the door open a crack, just as Patrick’s guard had left it. Patrick heard the pounding of the guard’s boots in the hallway as he returned.

“Ireallydo,” he said softly.

Chapter 30

The clock on the wall said 11:00 a.m., and Kate was still alone at the visitation table. Her cellphone was locked in the rental car, per prison rules, which left her with nothing to do but obsess over her predicament or observe the real-life boredom of prison life. A remark from her father, which at the time she’d dismissed as irrelevant, now seemed sage. “Once upon a time, Kate, in a world you’ll never know, people stood in line at grocery stores, stuck behind a shopper arguing with the cashier over a three-inch stack of expired coupons, and all we could do was read theTV Guideor the tabloid headlines. No texting. No emails. Nothing to ‘like’ on social media. Technology is good.”

“Okay, I’m here.”

The woman’s voice from behind startled Kate, and she sprang from her chair. Standing before her, dressed in the standard prison uniform of khaki button-up shirt with khaki pants, was Sandra Levy.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” said Kate.

“That makes two of us. May I sit?”

“Please.”

Sandra walked around to the other side of the table, and the women settled into chairs opposite one another. The steady buzz of conversations continued all around them, but Kate was suddenly less aware of it.

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