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“Exactly. But we might need some help on this one. How do you feel about approaching Carlos about it?”
“I’d rather not. Let’s see what we can come up with on our own first. And don’t forget our secret weapon—the one and only Lazlo,” Remi said, her tone not entirely confident.
Sam nodded and squeezed her hand. “Maribela and Antonio certainly seem like they could narrow it down for us if anyone could . . .” Sam glanced at the side mirror, as he’d been doing periodically since leaving the clinic. “Do me a favor, would you? Tell the driver to keep going past the Institute,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“I’ve seen the same car behind us on the way to the clinic and now here. A black Toyota. I think we’re being followed and I want to find out for sure.”
Remi leaned forward and had a brief conversation in Spanish with the driver, who nodded and continued south.
“What did you tell him?” Sam asked.
“To take us to the best breakfast restaurant he knows in the area.”
“An enterprising choice.”
“Hopefully, tasty too. I could use some eggs and a cup of strong coffee.” She glanced at the mirror on her side. “What do we do if we are being followed?”
“Good question. Maybe try to corner them and find out who it is and why they are following us?”
“That hasn’t always worked out well in the past, has it?”
“Fair enough. Then what’s your vote?”
“We go about our business and lose them when it matters. I don’t see much harm in anyone knowing we’re at the hotel or that we’re doing research at the Institute. It’s not like we’re an unknown quantity in Mexico.”
“Nice to have the brains of the operation thinking clearly. My instinct is to charge in, guns blazing,” Sam admitted.
“Which has its merits in some circumstances, I’ll grant you. But we don’t have any guns.”
“Always pouring cold water on my fun, aren’t you?”
“It’s my life’s work.”
They continued on for another six minutes and then the driver coasted to the curb in front of a popular restaurant, judging by the crowd inside. They walked in and the hostess showed them to a table by one of the large picture windows. The tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked food and dark coffee permeated the room. Sam’s mouth started to water as he took his seat. A glance at the street confirmed that the Toyota had taken up position fifty yards down the block, ending any arguments about its role.
“Sam, I know you don’t like hearing this, but there’s only one person who knew we were in Cuba and now here.”
He nodded. “Not really. Lagarde knew. He had our bags delivered, remember?”
“It’s not Lagarde, I’m telling you. It has to be Kendra.”
“Let’s say you’re right. That’s a difficult situation.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Stop relying on the office until Selma’s back full-time.”
“Why don’t we just fire her?” Remi said. “It makes me furious that she’d spy on us and sell us out. Selma’s own family . . .”
“How do you think it would make Selma feel if we let Kendra go? No, I think we have to keep it to ourselves and offer as little information as possible from now on. I don’t want to break Selma’s heart.”
A waitress arrived and Remi ordered coffee for them both. Sam pretended to study the menu.
“Know what you’re going to have?” Remi asked.
“Huevos rancheros. Those are on the menu, right?”