“I will,” I said. “Also, I’m available to line edit for a reasonable fee.”

He was about to say something, but he stopped and squinted his big brown bug eyes behind the glasses and said, “We shall meet again on your island, Isla Milagro, with your friends back from death.”

“It sounds like a plan,” I said. “I’ll be in touch when I’ve finished your fauxoir.”

He stood up and I thought he was going to try to hug me, but the little man took off his huge black-rimmed glasses, set them on the table, and slipped off his soft brown moccasins.

He smiled at me and took a few steps to the edge of the deck. I didn’t want to look at him standing so close to the water, but I couldn’t help myself.

Then he stepped over the edge and splashed into the water.

I waited for him to bob up again, and I squeezed my fists so tight that my nails dug into my palms. When he didn’t come up, I turned to his bodyguard/follower and shouted, “Don Pedro fell in! Get him.”

The stolid man looked at me impassively.

“He’ll drown,” I shouted. “Save him.”

The guard said, “He will transform into a fish. Or maybe a frog.”

“Goddamn!” I pulled off my shoes and went to the edge of the deck. I couldn’t see Don Pedro, and I was cold, cold from the wind blowing across my nervous sweat. Superheroes couldn’t be afraid of water. I closed my eyes and jumped.

For a moment all I felt was fear. Then came the shock of cold and consuming panic. I thrashed in the water, turned about, and saw the lighter surface above me. Don’t panic, I told myself.

I looked around until I saw Don Pedro’s white shirt billowing in the water. I swam to him, and he reached out his small hand to me. When I took it and pulled him upward, he was as light as a rubber duck.

He clutched the edge of the deck and I pushed his butt up to help him scramble out of the water. Then I pulled myself out.

Don Pedro was shaking the water off like a dog and he beamed.

“You crazy little—” Then I realized that I’d faced the water and survived.

“I thought I was a platypus again.” Don Pedro winked at me. “Until we next meet, my miracle girl.”

I started laughing and said, “Yes, until next time, Don Pedro.”

I trudged in my wet clothes to the grocery store. The clerk stared at me as I bought a big juicy steak, red cabbage slaw, cranberry juice, and crusty whole grain bread.

I went to my loft, ate dinner, and studied maps on the Internet, looking for street views. None of the satellite photos available showed the compound, which allowed me to pinpoint the location by its very absence.