Page 73 of Born for Starlight

"I'm talking about you at the hospital, kicking over a hornets' nest. Do you know the damage you could have done?"

"Damage?" She switched feet. She was slow about it. "You told me Layla's father was arranging for me to see Luzia in the ICU. I got tired of waiting, so I was proactive. How could that possibly be a problem?"

"I'll tell you how. The problem is⁠—"

She bent over the other foot. She blew on a fresh toe. Then she looked up at me through her lashes.

"I met the nicest receptionist. She was so helpful. She told me Luzia was discharged four days ago." A tiny smile. "Isn't that interesting?"

I didn't answer. I waited.

"Family only, you told me. Such strict ICU rules." She examined her smallest toe. "Except there's no ICU, no rules, and no Luzia. There hasn't been for four days."

I waited to see just how much more she’d learned. "Are you going to spend all day painting your toes?"

"Not all day. I only have three more to go. Can't leave some unfinished, now can I?"

She dipped the brush and took her time with the next one. "So, explain something to me, Matthew. You made all those calls. Your sources gave you all that runaround. And not one of them mentioned that she'd been discharged?" The brush moved, small and steady. "I found it out with one phone call. One. What does that say about your sources?"

I crossed my arms.

"You don't have an answer?"

"It seems you already know everything," I said. "Why should I say anything?"

She missed. A streak of pink went across the skin beside her toenail. Angelica didn't miss. I looked at her hand. It wasn't quite steady. That was the first real thing I'd seen since I walked through the door.

She looked up at me from under her lashes, still playing it. "Don't you want to tell me how a seven-year-old gets checked out of a hospital, and nobody knows who took her?"

Her voice was perfect. Her hand wasn't.

She wasn't working me for fun. She was scared to death for that little girl, and she was covering it the only way she knew how. I could outwait an actress all day long. I couldn't outwait that.

"Fine. Cards on the table." I kept my voice flat. "I didn't need to call the hospital. I already knew Luzia had been discharged. I've known since our first night in Brazil. I'm working with a local cop I trust, a good one, and the nurse you talked to is his source. She knows there's an American helping. We're trying to find Luzia. All of us. That's the truth, and I didn't tell you because I didn't want you scared when there was nothing you could do about it." I spread my hands. "Are you satisfied?"

Every word of it was true.

But the reason I knew about this was a lie.

"And what do you think happened to her?"

She wasn't painting anymore. The brush was back in the bottle. Both feet were on the floor, and her eyes never left my face.

"I'm not sure."

"That's bullshit. You have an idea. Quit with the lies,” she demanded.

She watched me. No—she looked into me like she'd already cracked me open and was deciding whether to scramble me or fry me sunny-side up. Had I ever been this seen? No. Never. Not by commanding officers who'd trained for it. Not even by Layla, back when we shared a bed. Seven weeks. I'd known this woman seven weeks, and she read me down to the studs.

"I think Aurora is dirty," I said. “I think they’re housing her there.”

Saying it out loud cost me. I wasn't used to sharing this much of an operation. Especially with somebody who was in the middle of it and didn't know it.

"Aurora." She blinked. "The school for orphan girls that I'm visiting tomorrow? That makes no sense. Why would Luzia be taken there? She was already at an orphanage."

Now who was lying?

It was too wrong. Too slow. Angelica put things together faster than anyone I'd ever worked with, and she'd just played dumb like it was a part she hadn't rehearsed. She knew something. I could feel it in my back teeth. I just couldn't see what it was yet.