Free Cuban Sun by Ann Bauer, Bryn Bauer Page A

previous room had been replaced by fluorescent lighting here. Again, she did not find who she was looking for, and kept going through two more hallways and two more rooms. She was beginning to despair. This is more like a rabbit warren than a bar, she thought. Finally, in the fifth and what she hoped was the final room, she caught a glimpse of Quint’s copper streaked head facing her but bowed in conversation with Helena, Joe and two men. Both men appeared to be Hispanic. One of them wore a crisp white long-sleeved button up shirt with what looked to be a Hermes tie. She studied his face and recognized him as Quint’s dinner partner from the previous night. The other man more resembled the other clientele, dusty denim work shirt, holey jeans and steel toed construction boots.
    Sofia stood assessing. Do I go over there and interrupt? Do I wait here? Both options, she decided, had downsides. She did not want to blurt out what she had found or what happened in front of people she didn’t know but also didn’t want to wait around alone which would invite unwelcome looks and conversation. As she took the first step toward the five-person group Quint looked up and almost looked back but did a double take. His eyes widened briefly in alarm; whether at her presence or at her damaged face, she did not know. He politely excused himself and Sofia was relieved that none of the others looked up from their conversation. He maintained a casual air as he walked toward her as if it were an everyday occurrence for him to talk to strange beat-up girls in dives like this. For all of her suspicion and anger, she had to admire his self-possession.
    Quint didn’t speak but took her arm firmly in his and led her to a nook in the corner of the room. They sat on the same ripped red velvet stools she had seen in the other rooms of the bar. He peered into her face, and intensely worried expression spreading across his features. He still held her arm.
    “Sofia, what the hell happened to you? Are you OK?” He crooked his index finger under her chin and turned her face this way and that squinting at her injuries. Despite her anger, she felt herself comforted by his touch.
    Of course I’m not, Sofia thought. She sidestepped by answering. “There was a break in on the Mariana . The guy gave me this.” She gestured to her swollen visage.
    Sofia winced at the suddenincrease of force in Quint’s grip on her arm. He leaned in and said, “Is that all he did?” Sofia nodded. Quint loosened his grip and sighed, “Thank God. Did he say anything?”
    “He said to tell my boss, ‘he doesn’t like to wait’.” As she spoke, she watched carefully for signs of reaction. The only thing she saw in Quint’s kind eyes was confusion and concern. “I take it that you don’t know what that means either?”
    He shook his head, “No, but Joe might.”
    Sofia related the description and the events briefly. Finally she said, “When I regained consciousness, the engine room door was still ajar…” She trailed off at the look he gave her. Not anger, or surprise but of amused knowing.
    “So, that’s how you found us. I thought it must have been. All of our phones are off.”
    She nodded. “Look,I’m sorry Quint, it’s obvious that I wasn’t supposed to be in there but-”.
    He held up a hand. “Sofia, it’s no big deal. We were going to tell you about it tonight. I know Helena left you a note about the offer.” His smile widened. “I told her you would have a million questions so she wanted to talk to you when we didn’t have a time constraint.”
    Sofia was more than a little irritated at the look he was giving her. He seemed to think this was funny. She jerked her arm from his hand.
    “Quint, who the hell are these people? Please don’t insult me by telling me they’re lawyers because that surveillance would be completely illegal. I can’t believe you would be involved in something like that. But I really don’t know what to think right now.