Free Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 03 - Insatiable by Emily Kimelman

today?” Here was a woman who could solve at least one of my problems. Darcy set up my account when I first moved to London and had been my loyal Private Jet rep since then. Mulberry actually gave me her info, but I thought I could trust her. Part of Darcy’s job was discretion.
    “I need a flight as soon as possible, Darcy. I’m in a bit of a rush.”
    “Of course, Ms. Rye. Where are you?”
    “I’m in Playa del Carmen, at the marina attached to the Paradise hotel.”
    I heard her nails clicking on her keyboard. “Of course, Ms. Rye, I’m happy to set that up for you. What is the closest airport?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    “OK, how many people are traveling with you today?”
    “Just me and one other person and Blue.”
    “Where would you like to go?”
    “The Caymans.”
    “Certainly, would you like me to set up your usual apartments there?”
    “No, Darcy, I don’t want anyone to know I’m there.”
    “Yes?”
    “I want the flight to continue after dropping me off in the Caymans and I don’t want anyone to know I got off.” Darcy didn’t answer for a moment but I heard the tapping of her keyboard.
    “Ms. Rye, I have a plane that can be ready in 60 minutes. You’re booked for a trip to Jamaica with a layover in the Caymans to refuel.”
    “Darcy, I love you.”
    “Thank you, Ms. Rye. A car will meet you at the marina in 20 minutes.”
    “Perfect, Darcy.”
    I hung up with Darcy and looked down at my phone. I wanted to call Mulberry, but I didn’t fully trust him. Either he knew about this set up or was complacent in it. I needed to get rid of my phone before Blane reached land. After one more moment of contemplation, I dropped it over the side and watched the phone disappear beneath the water with barely a sound.
    I went below deck for the first time. It was luxury. There was a full kitchen with stainless steel appliances just a little smaller than normal. The counters were shining black granite and the cabinets a light wood. The kitchen was open to a salon with an L-shaped couch in navy blue that surrounded a table large enough for eight to eat comfortably.
    I heard the shower turn off and hurried down the hall toward the state rooms. Opening the first door on my right, I found neatly made bunk beds. The door across the hall opened onto a small state room with a single bed. An open leather duffel bag was on the floor. I picked it up and quickly established that it belonged to Ana Maria judging by the clothing. I rifled through it looking for her phone. It wasn’t there. Casting my eyes around the room I searched for a purse but didn’t see one.
    Ana Maria walked in wearing a towel wrapped around her body and one over her hair. “What are you doing?” she asked, anger flaring in her eyes.
    “Looking for your phone,” I said, cocking my head. “Is that a problem?”
    “Why?”
    “To get rid of it. I don’t want them using our mobiles to track us.”
    “Oh, right,” she said, smiling. “That makes sense.” Opening one of the drawers in a built-in bureau she handed me an iPhone. I clicked the button and a lock screen glowed. It was a picture of Alejandro and Ana Maria on the boat, their arms around each other, grinning while wind whipped through their hair. Ana Maria turned away from the image toward her bag.
    “Thanks,” I said.
    “We should be docking soon. I’ll need your help,” Ana Maria said.
    “I’ll jump in the shower, then,” I said.
    She nodded. “It’s right down the hall.”
    I found the bathroom and pulling off my bloodied clothing, climbed into the shower. I stood under the spray and closed my eyes. Using a washcloth I scrubbed at my body, leaving it feeling raw but clean. I turned off the tap and finding a towel, wrapped myself in it. I tried avoiding the mirror but the bathroom wasn’t that big. It was definitely me looking out of the glass. Melanie Franks was gone. I pulled my hair back and tied it in a loose bun, put on a robe that was hanging on the back