Free Santiago Sol by Niki Turner

“What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing.” She shook her head with a bit too much force, in his estimation.
    “Are you sure?” His grip tightened. “Diego?”
    “No. I haven’t seen him.”
    Sebastian focused on her face. “Then what’s wrong?”
    Her eyes flickered from his gaze.
    “I don’t know what to wear,” she said.
    The thought of someone hurting her wrenched something deep inside, and Sebastian resisted a primal urge to pin her to the nearest hard surface and demand the truth. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and studied her. “Well, the robe isn’t going to cut it.”
    She flashed him a brief smile. “You’re right about that. I’ll just be a minute.” She disappeared into the bedroom without a backward glance.
    Sebastian prowled the perimeter of the living area. Her phone was still plugged in to its charger, as was her computer. Nothing appeared to be disrupted or disturbed. Nothing except Tansy herself.
    Sebastian had decided to set aside his suspicions and doubts, at least for the day. Tansy’s current behavior was making it difficult. Was she in contact with Diego, or with Arturo, even though she’d told him she wasn’t?
    He tensed when the bedroom door opened, revealing Tansy in jeans and boots, her caramel-colored hair pulled up into a messy knot.
    “I’m ready,” she said.
    Sebastian wasn’t sure what he heard in her voice that jangled his nerves. It was as if the most fragile silver thread had been strung between them, and this morning it was stretched to the breaking point.
     
    ****
     
    Tansy smiled at Sebastian for the umpteenth time since they’d left the aparthotel. The bright smiles made her cheeks ache. He’d been silent, even sulky, and she’d tried to cover the tension with nonstop chatter and forced cheer.
    His car was waiting for them outside the café, though they’d walked to and from the aparthotel. Tansy allowed him to help her into the passenger seat. “It must be nice,” she said when he climbed in beside her.
    “What?”
    “The conveniences of wealth.”
    He frowned as he glanced in the side mirror. “There are many conveniences. But wealth doesn’t make life perfect.”
    She relaxed as he threaded the car through traffic so thick one would have thought it was rush hour instead of a lazy summer Sunday. She was glad for the chance to be quiet. The forced niceties at breakfast had drained her resources, and failed to improve Sebastian’s mood.
    The problem, she decided, was that she liked him. She sensed in him the same inner goodness she so valued in Eva, and that made it almost impossible to keep the walking stick a secret. But telling him would break her promise to Eva and put them both in danger. She had to find a way to contact the elder Sandoval. Soon.
    The sports car veered to the right and came to a stop outside what looked like a warehouse.
    “Is this it?”
    “According to the address on the flier.”
    Graffiti marred the concrete block walls and trash littered the gutter. A rangy stray dog with the head of a pit bull and the body of a greyhound wandered past the car, sniffing the ground as he went.
    Two older women hurried down the sidewalk, huddled elbow-to-elbow and clutching their purses close to their bodies. They knocked on a door painted the same color as the building and camouflaged with the same graffiti. Seconds later, a man in a suit and tie opened the door and ushered the women inside with a smile.
    “There it is,” Tansy said, relieved. She reached for the door handle, but Sebastian stopped her.
    “Are you certain you want to go in there? I can take you to any number of churches.”
    Tansy turned, surprised and saddened that he would judge the ministry by its exterior. But where she thought she would see judgment, she saw apprehension, like that of a small boy on the first day of school. Her heart melted with compassion and the tension she’d felt since he’d knocked on her door that morning drifted away. Perhaps there was