“As long as it takes. He has to come home eventually.”

“I was afraid you’d say that. What’s happening there?”

“We’ve got jack. No one at the hotel remembers seeing Sinclair after the O’Connors dropped him off. We’ve got some grainy film that seems to show him talking to someone, but the image isn’t clear enough to be of any help.”

“Is it possible he was meeting someone?”

“We’re looking at that. His estranged brother lives here in town. McBride and I are on our way to talk to him now.”

“Keep me posted. Any sign of Cruz?”

“He rolled in about an hour ago with a hickey on his neck and a boatload of excuses about his phone dying.”

Gonzo howled with laughter. “Aw, our little boy is finally growing up.”

“He needs to grow up on his own time.”

“It’s the first time he’s ever been late. Lighten up, Lieutenant.”

“I wish everyone would stop saying that to me!”

“Would you ride anyone else this hard?” Gonzo asked, bracing himself for her retort.

“What’re you saying? That I favor him?”

“He’s your partner. Of course you favor him. But maybe you expect more of him, too.” Again he braced himself. “Because you trained him.”

“Hmm. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“So he had a big night out. It’s high time, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “I should probably partner up with you or someone more experienced so I don’t have to deal with this crap.”

“You’d break his heart, Sam. He’s totally devoted to you.”

“Christ,” she muttered. “All these entanglements. When did I get so entangled?”

Gonzo laughed. “It’s such a bitch having people care about you, isn’t it?”

“Seriously! Call me when you find Quick.”

“Will do.” Gonzo stashed the phone in his pocket and got up to wander to the window again. Looking out at the palm trees, sugar white sand and crystal blue water, he wished he were here on vacation. When was the last time I had a vacation? he wondered. His grandparents had lived here when they first came from Cuba, but the family later moved north. Maybe after they closed this case, he’d bring Christina here for a week on the beach.

“Whoa,” he said. “Where’d that come from?” He wasn’t the kind of guy who took a woman on a vacation. Hell, he rarely saw them again after he slept with them. The ding of the elevator arriving at the other end of the hallway jarred him out of his disturbing thoughts. Turning, he found an older man coming down the hallway at a determined clip. Only when he drew closer did Gonzo spot the bruises on the man’s face and the drying blood on his lip. He carried a small duffel bag and was dressed in khakis and an un-tucked button-down shirt.