Free Collection by T.K. Lasser Page B

could disappear into the landscape without leaving a trace. If he travelled alone, that is.
    He looked over at Jane. She had fallen asleep out of exhaustion. Her fight or flight instinct finally gave up after about an hour after takeoff. He was glad; she needed the rest. She was going to have to keep on her toes in the next few hours. There was no telling what Raleigh had planned, and she needed to be able to play along withwhatever Lucien had to fabricate to keep them out of trouble.
    Jane woke suddenly when the plane bounced on landing. Lucien watched her confusion fade to resignation once she realized where she was. Maybe she'd hoped it was all a dream. He certainly did. He was pretty sure this wasn't what she'd expected when she'd got up this morning. She was a nice girl who went to museums on weekdays. He couldn't hate himself more for getting her into this trouble.
    They disembarked and rode in a few jeeps up to the main house, which was more of a mansion than a simple hacienda. Gerald had removed the handcuffs on the plane and didn't bother to put them on again. It was clear that if they tried to run here, it would be taken as an admission of guilt and there would be no hesitation to kill them. After all, there was nobody around who would call the local police for a few gunshots. Any witnesses were sure to be on Raleigh's payroll.
    They parked the jeeps on a large roundabout at the front of the house and went inside. The interior was a classical Caribbean colonial style plus some more recent design elements. There was mahogany, marble, and art everywhere he looked. Bright colors on the walls mirrored the tropical sherbet that usually colored the homes of the island. Lucien wondered who Raleigh's friends were. He was leading a very ostentatious life on this little island, and Lucien knew that his friends were just the kind of people he liked to deal with. People with more money than sense were his favorite type of customer. This setup was one of the gaudiest displays of wealth he'd seen. American embargo or not, Raleigh lived very well in Cuba.
    Jane looked around at the house. It looked like a 1980’s drug dealer lived there. Yuck. Not only was she stuck in Cuba, but she was standing in the ugliest house she had ever seen. She was going to die on the set of Miami Vice . Great. Raleigh's entourage was busy bringing in suitcases as well as larger shipping crates that she had seen being unloaded from the underbelly of the jet. They left Lucien and her alone. She quickly realized that escape wasn't an option. The bad guys weren't worried about them running, because they had nowhere to run. She flopped down on one of the ridiculous gilded couches and hoped this would all be over soon.
    Raleigh directed one of the burly men to bring over a tall, flat crate. He opened it to reveal a painting that Jane didn't recognize, but one that screamed “fake.”

10
    CICERO LURKED OUTSIDE THE KITCHEN DOOR trying to hear if anyone was inside. Finally, he decided the coast was clear and went in. The kitchen was large enough to prepare a small feast and contained a large table that in more elitist times would have been used by the household help for all of their meals. It was after dinner and the plates had been cleared, the food put away. Cicero raided the fridge. He was voraciously hungry and didn't discriminate based on cuisine or suspected expiration date. The pile of food he created on the counter contained pizza, fried chicken, leftover pot roast, and someone's poorly-guarded Chinese take out.
    He could have come down for dinner with the others. Dani had come to the library that evening to remind him to eat, but he feigned preoccupation. In reality, he didn't want to sit at the table with everyone else tonight. Dani had been somewhat comforted, but the rest of them kept staring him down in the hallways when he surfaced to use the bathroom or grab some tea. Eating dinner at the communal table would have meant an invitation