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nodded. “I know. I’ll tell him what I said before. Lots of people have those sport watches. That’s an absolute fact. But he’s talking to Cooper right now and I don’t know what about exactly.” She hesitated. “But if they ask to see the show’s promo footage, Scott’s wearing the watch in there.”
    I cringed. “You’re right.”
    She gave me a ferocious hug, pulling my head into her shoulder. I hadn’t realized until that moment that I was crying again.
    â€œEverything is going to be all right,” she said. “I promise.”

Five
    T he dining hall in the bed-and-breakfast was cheerfully decorated: a colorful mosaic covered the ceiling, yellow paint with teal trim on the walls, and a pendant chandelier. If I hadn’t been so distraught, I actually might have enjoyed drinking some
sangr
í
a
at the bar with the rest of the cast and crew. As it was, I sat by myself at a booth and perused the menu.
    My mouth watered as I read. The dinner special was rack of lamb. It came with homemade soup, salad, Basque beans, home-baked bread, french fries, and bread pudding! My stomach growled and I realized with a shock that except for the PowerBars I’d gnawed on, I hadn’t eaten anything in over thirty-six hours. I could definitely put away a full seven-course Basque dinner.
    Cooper, the NFL player, sauntered over to my table. He was African-American, his face undeniably striking,despite a scar near his left temple. “What are you doing here sitting all alone, dollface?”
    I looked up into his eyes. Victoria had mentioned Cooper roaming around camp—what did he know that he wasn’t telling me? He placed the glass of whiskey he was holding onto the table and slid into the booth opposite me. Leaning in on his elbows he said, “The
sangría
is too sweet for me. You might like it though.”
    I leaned across the table, mirroring his body language. “Cooper, did you hear anything strange last night?”
    He squinted at me. “I did hear something. Just like I told you. Told the cop in there, too.” He motioned to a door on the opposite end of the dining room. “I heard howling and all sorts of noise. Catlike sounds. They probably got mountain lions up there.” He stared at me, presumably waiting for my reaction. When none came he added, “Anyway, I’m sure glad we’re not out there.”
    I traced the edge of the table with my fingertip and thought for a moment. Cooper had never said anything to me about hearing howling. He’d told me he hadn’t seen anything, but that wasn’t the same. We’d all heard howling that night.
    Could it have been the woman’s screams?
    Did anyone know about the woman yet? I wondered what the heck Sergio was asking everyone. I decided to press Cooper a bit further.
    â€œWhat all did the cop ask you?”
    Cooper sipped his whiskey. “Said they’re looking real hard for your boy. Asked me if I’ve ever been to Spain before. Asked me who I knew here.”
    I rubbed at my temple suddenly wanting a glass of
sangría
. I needed something to squelch my nervousness. Instead I clapped my hands together and folded them into my lap. “And have you ever been here before?”
    He shook his head. “No. Football was my life before I blew my leg out.” He grimaced. “Speaking of which, the ol’ leg is barking at me right now. Funny how that happens. Don’t bother me none, until I talk about it.” He pulled out a pill bottle from his pocket and popped a couple of tablets into his mouth. “I ain’t never been outside of the U.S. except to go to Fiji. Went there for my honeymoon.”
    â€œThat’s nice,” I said, feeling a pang in the center of my heart. As part of winning the previous game show, Scott and I had won a trip to an island of our choice. He’d wanted to go to Fiji; me, I was partial to Bora