“Hey, who’s this?”

“Paolo, meet my friend Jana—she’s an actress.”

The lifeguard takes my hand and gives it an awkward kiss, like you’ve seen in countless movies but never in real life. “Stage or screen?”

“Minor roles on Broadway, major ones off, you know how it is. A little television work when it’s in New York.”

But Paolo barely comprehends the words coming out of my mouth. He’s sizing up my body like he’s a costume designer. Then, upon seeing my second cocktail, makes a suggestion. “Dude, we need shots.”

Shots it is. The bartender busies himself lining up the glasses while Jamie and Paolo busy themselves competing for my attention. As amusing as such a competition might be, I was more interested in hearing these two talk. How do they know each other? Up until this moment, the teams of suspects had been clearly defined: Lifeguard and Cop, Rich Kid and Captain. What connected the Rich Kid with the Lifeguard?

I gradually withdrew from their antics, and they sensed I was not interested in either as a nighttime companion. They focused on each other, their speech punctuated by shots of Grey Goose. Soon enough, Paolo leaned in close and whispered, “I need some help.”

“What’s up, man?”

The bar is bustling, and they no doubt thought they were speaking too softly for anyone to hear. But I learned lip-reading as part of my stage training years ago. To me, their conversation is as clear as a high-definition radio broadcast.

“I could use your advice on something,” Paolo says. “You know any diamond experts? Like some guy who can authenticate them?”

“What, did you rob some old lady?” Jamie says, giggling. He’s drunk.

“Dude, I’m serious. I’ve got a line on something but I need someone I can trust.”

“No worries. I’ll hook you up. When do you need him?”

“Tonight, man.”

“Tonight?”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t super-important. I’m meeting this guy at ten.”

Halsey pulls out his cell phone and begins thumbing it. “Done. Just texted my guy here on the island.” Then he claps Paolo on the shoulder and, in his normal brah voice, yells: “More shots! Who’s in?”

Halsey looks over at me expectantly. Perhaps through the haze of alcohol he believes he has another chance. After all, I didn’t flee the scene.

“What about you, Jana?” he asks.

“I’ve got the lady’s drinks,” says a voice behind me.

Your lovely voice, dear Matthew.

I’m thrilled you came after me, but for these two brats, I still have to play the part. I put on a pout. “Oh, now you want to drink, Matthew. I was having a perfectly lovely time without you.”

“With these two?” you say, eyebrows cocked. And I love you for it. You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you in that moment.

But before Paolo and Jamie realize they are being insulted, you whisk me away.

Chapter 22

THEO (THE TRADER)

“You got them?” Paolo asks.

We’re in the same backwater bar where we first met. The perfect shady place for shady business. Normally I’d suggest a drink, but the kid’s impatient and jittery (and already drunk), so we get down to the matter at hand.