CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Miramar, Mallorca
December 13
Cam volunteered to pick up a romantic dinner for two to enjoy with Gemini.
La Sirena was a small but bustling seaside restaurant. The bar crowd gathered inside and out, and diners sat at tile-topped tables with postcard views. Even at this time of year, the place still drew a crowd, and the mild day allowed for the french doors that skirted the building to be kept open. Cam stood next to the Mercedes he had taken from the March garages and eyed the establishment from a distance, walking casually like any other traveler exploring a beachfront restaurant. A deep happiness swelled within him.
Enticing aromas wafted on the bay breeze. Patrons ate and talked. Ren and Chat sat at a high-top table on the porch. Seagulls trolled the beach for scraps. Steady and Herc were chatting up two women waiting for a table. A waitress stopped at a group of laughing women to take an order. Twitch nursed a martini at the bar. A group of kids threw a ball and chased each other on the beach. The team had woven themselves seamlessly into the tapestry of the scene.
Cam entered La Sirena and snaked through the crowd to find an empty, wicker-backed bar stool. He took a seat and ordered a beer in Catalan. “Una cervesa, si us plau.”
The bartender set a bottle of Estrella and a frosted glass in front of him. Cam handed him some Euros, glanced at the chalkboard menu on the wall, and ordered two of the sea bass specials to go. The man nodded, took the cash, and moved on.
To his knowledge, Twitch had never done any sort of undercover work, but she was playing her part well, sitting in a floral-print dress, scanning a sightseeing pamphlet, and eyeing him as a likely prospect for a vacation fling. He tilted the glass and poured the beer, shooting her a receptive smile. Martini in one hand, brochure in the other, she slid off the high seat and slinked over to him—sort of slinked. Twitch clearly wasn’t used to walking in high heels and stumbled, sloshing vodka over the rim of her glass. She composed herself quickly, though, and finished the short journey, setting the drink down next to his.
“English?” she asked.
“Of course,” Cam replied.
“Are you a local?” Twitch continued.
“No. It's a beautiful island, but I’m hoping to get home to my family,” Cam said.
“My family is here with me,” she commented. “I thought I’d explore the nightlife.”
“I haven’t seen much. It's the off-season,” Cam countered.
“Oh, there's plenty going on. The beach at Ca’n Pastilla is wild at night. We’re staying on a boat, The Orion. It's pretty cool. I’m a Pisces, so I guess I’m drawn to boats. Are you into the Zodiac?”
Cam lifted his beer to his lips, committing her coded words to memory. “Not really.”
“Yeah, I guess it's just superstition.” She mimicked him and sipped her drink. “Anyway, we’re going to try fishing tomorrow.”
“Good luck,” Cam said.
“I was just reading more about deep sea fishing in this brochure. My brothers are really into it. They pull the craziest stuff out of the water. It gets really active an hour or so before sunset. You should check it out.” She forced a fairly convincing giggle.
She slid the brochure in front of him. He picked it up and examined the front photo: a group of men on a beach, each holding their catch.
“Maybe.” He slipped the brochure into his back pocket. “Thanks.”
The bartender placed the two dinners Cam had ordered wrapped to go on the bar.
“So, can I give you my number? Maybe we can set up a fishing date,” Twitch flirted.
Cam held up a hand, broadcasting his rejection to anyone who may be watching. “Sorry, I’m spoken for.”
Twitch nodded. “Okay, well, if you change your mind, just look for the bright pink umbrella. Nice talking to you.”
“You too. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Cam grabbed the bag of food and worked his way around tables and patrons to the exit. As he passed the table where Ren and Chat were perched, Chat gave his dinner companion a discreet nod. A moment later, Ren hopped off his seat and bumped right into Cam.
“Perdón, señor,” Ren slurred.
“No hay problema,” Cam replied, then skirted his friend without acknowledgment and left. Back in the car with the food in the passenger seat, Cam felt in his exterior pocket and touched the GPS locator Ren had slipped in when they collided. He reviewed his conversation with Twitch and noted the relevant information. The team was anchored off the coast near Ca’n Pastilla. There would be a Zodiac beached near a pink umbrella. The meet-up was an hour before sunset.
Atlas March had told Cam at their first meeting that he could leave at any time. Gemini might disagree. Plus, there were too many strange happenings for Cam to take what was going on at face value.