Page 11 of Girl in the Water

She remembered the missionary’s sermons in her village and thought,maybethisman is a saint.

After the meal, Senhor Finch showed her a small bedroom off his larger one. He had a big bed. She had a hammock. But they both had mosquito nets, which was the most important thing.

“Good?” he asked. “Bom?”

“Very good, senhor.Obrigada.”

A pleased smile showed off his perfect white teeth again. “You settle in. I need to go out for a while, but I’ll be back.”

He didn’t lock the door when he left.

Daniela hurried to the front window and peeked out from behind the curtain. This had to be a trap. He was probably waiting outside, so if she tried to leave, he would catch her and beat her. Rosa had done that.

But Senhor Finch was walking down the street, going and going until he disappeared in a swarm of other people.

Daniela’s heart beat fast, then faster as she walked to the door and opened it a crack. Nothing happened.

A soft, warm rain drizzled outside.

She eased down the steps, holding her breath.

Nobody paid her any attention.

Still no sign of Senhor Finch rushing back.

Daniela moved forward. Before she knew, she was standing in the middle of the street, her heart racing.Shouldn’t have left the house.Now she’d be caught, and she’d have to go to sleep with her whole body aching from the beating she’d get.

But since she’d come this far… Her legs trembling, she began walking down the street.

The crowd was large and loud. People brushed against her.Too many people.After her small village, then the confines of Rosa’s house, Daniela felt as if she was drowning.

One tentative step at a time, she walked all the way to the end of the street before she stopped. She didn’t know where to go from there. The street opened into a large square with a church, shops, and stalls right on the sidewalk, and even more people.

She couldn’t see Senhor Finch anywhere.

* * *

Ian

The latest pop hit pulsed through Orpen, an upscale nightclub in Washington DC, flashes of an overhead laser show illuminating the crowded dance floor. Everyone was focused either on their next drink or on their next lay. Except Ian Slaney, who headed across the room, keeping an eye on the party. He didn’t drink at work, and he didn’t mix with the women here either.You don’t shit where you eathad always been his policy.

He was one of the bouncers. Didn’t mind the hours. He couldn’t sleep anyway.

A young guy at the entrance caught his eyes. Six foot even, hair buzz cut, nothing but spikes of gold. For a moment, Ian thought,Finch. Then the lights flashed brighter, and for a second a beam fully illuminated the guy’s face. A stranger.

Too damn bad.

Finch hadn’t called again. The thought that the kid had met with more trouble in Rio than he could handle had been like a sharp tack under the sheets, digging into Ian at night, making sleep even less likely.

He’d finally gotten his passport renewed and a visa to Brazil, intending to go to Rio, although he hadn’t made definite plans yet.

The guy at the door moved forward, deeper into the crowd, stepping around the small party that was leaving, a young woman escorted by two men.

The woman was around twenty, one asshole on each side of her, tugging her toward the exit to Constitution Ave, toward the dark night outside.

On the surface, they looked all right, but instinct pushed Ian forward, and as he reached within a few feet, he could hear the woman say, “I have to get up early for work. I’ll just call a cab,” to one of the men.

But he overruled her with “We’ll just pop up to my place for five minutes. You don’t want Joey to think you don’t like him, do you?”