Page 97 of Girl in the Water

“Remember when we ran into Carol and she’d just been buying diapers?”

“So?”

“By that time, she already knew that she was going back to the US for her baby’s birth. She had the ticket confirmation. I saw it. So why buy diapers in Brazil for a baby who was going to be born in the US?”

“What does Carol have to do with any of this?”

“Carol is your blind spot.” Daniela’s voice filled with sympathy, her gaze soft. “She reminds you of Linda.”

“I don’t want to talk about Linda.”

“I know. And you don’t have to right now. But just consider this… How do we even know that Carol is pregnant?”

He couldn’t believe they were even discussing a fake pregnancy. “Because this is real life, not a sitcom. She looks pregnant.”

“She could have gained weight.”

“She doesn’t look fat. She looks pregnant.” God, he didn’t have patience for this, not now, not when he’d screwed up. Last night, he should have found a way to get into this apartment, while Essie was still here.

Daniela tilted her head, then went still, as if holding her breath. “Have you seen Carol naked?”

A strangled laugh escaped him. But from the wounded look in her eyes, he realized she was asking seriously. “No. I didn’t see Carol naked.”

Daniela nodded and breathed. “So she could have a fake belly.”

“Lila is almost seven months old. It’s not like Carol could fake a pregnancy, steal Lila, then pass her off as a newborn.”

But Daniela refused to see reason. “Carol is involved in this somehow. I know it. We need to go to the airport. Trust me.”

So off they went, because, of course, he did trust her.

“She said she had a ten a.m. flight, right?” he asked in the back of the cab that flew through traffic.

He’d offered a big enough tip so the driver would take every slum alley shortcut available, shortcuts, Ian, if he had a rental car, would never have known.

Daniela held on to the seat in front of her with one hand, checked her phone with the other. “We have fifty minutes left.”

“How far to the airport?” Ian asked the driver.

“Soon, senhor.” As the man ran a red light, he began to sweat. He held on to the steering wheel with both hands, leaned forward, the determined look of a race car driver on his face.

They were doing well until they hit a roadblock.

“What’s that?” Ian asked.

“Police, senhor. They must be looking for someone.”

“We get off here.” Ian paid the man, shot out of the car with Daniela, then they ran. They hurried past the police checkpoint and grabbed another cab on the other side of the barricade.

“Forty minutes left,” Daniela said as they slammed in the back of the car.

Ian called Detective Santos. “Daniela and I need to get into the airport. Can you call airport security and get us a free pass?”

“You got something?”

“We suspect that baby Lila is still here in Manaus, about to be smuggled out on a plane. If a Carol Peterson tries to get on a flight, they need to stop her.”

“I’ll meet you at the airport,” Santos said on the other end, a little out of breath, as if he was already running.