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quite enough excitement for one morning. Steadying herself on the wall, she got to her feet and went to check on Max.
    Still out cold.
    He gasped softly a couple of times, but other than that he didn’t stir. Would he be okay on his own for a while? She didn’t know and hated to leave him alone. What if he woke up? Well, it can’t be helped, and I won’t be gone any longer than I have to . Retrieving her sneakers from under the bed, she slipped from the room to put them on.
    “Now, behave yourself,” she told Griffin when he followed her to the back door. “I have to go call Karl. And buy more peanut butter.”
    She grabbed her backpack, left the house, and headed off at a brisk walk down the narrow dirt road toward the village. Afraid her dark-skinned visitors might drive by, she stayed alert, ready to dart for cover at any sign of an approaching car.
    Venturing out to phone Karl, right now, might not be the wisest move, but with the time difference, she feared if she didn’t call early, she wouldn’t catch him .
    Without a phone in her cottage, she had to trek the two miles into El Nopal to make a call. The village market had the only public phone in the area.
    A fresh influx of worry seared her stomach. God, the consequences this call to Karl could have. With Jonas the head of organized crime in Utah, Nick would have no trouble tapping Karl’s phone. So it paid to assume he had.
    She and Karl never mentioned any place by name and used a code for boat names and marinas. Still, she worried. A careless word, however innocent, could pinpoint her location. Yet without replenishing her funds, she couldn’t survive. Or continue to run. She’d just have to make sure she was long gone before anyone from Utah could get here.
    As she entered El Nopal, she felt more vulnerable than ever. Her shoes sent up little wakes of dust as she hurried past the quaint, ramshackle houses lining the dirt streets of the village. Huddled close together with nothing but stick fences and tiny, bare-dirt yards between them, the small, sand-colored adobe structures looked rather sad.
    But then most everything here was dull and drab. Other than the bundles of chilies suspended from the eaves of some of the buildings, the only bright spots of color in town were a few scattered bougainvilleas and the laundry hung out to dry in the sun. Not much color in Baja, period , she mused. Aside from her little cove and an oasis or two, most of the peninsula was barren and brown. She sighed. It wasn’t quite as nice as she remembered from her visit when she was a child, and now the lack of greenery depressed her. Maybe once she got back to the mainland, she should head north again.
    A couple of young children, playing in one of the postage-stamp yards, called out to her. She waved and quickened her pace. Except for Pablo and his family, she had tried not to become too well acquainted with the people in the area, figuring the less they knew, the less they could tell anyone who might come looking for her. The children’s greeting reminded her she was becoming a familiar sight.
    It was definitely time to move on.
    Crossing the street, she saw a dark blue Jeep raising a cloud of dust as it passed the village square. Thank God the market was on this side of the plaza and she could avoid most of the dust.
    Pausing in the open doorway of the store, she waited until her eyes adjusted to the dim interior light before stepping inside. As her mind filled with worst-case scenarios, she gritted her teeth and gave Karl’s name and number to the elderly Mexican woman behind the counter. She slid her hand inside her backpack and brushed her fingers over the gun for comfort while she waited for the call to be placed.
    Outside, the Jeep she’d seen earlier sped by, throwing a shower of dirt and dust through the open door. She moved farther inside.
    The old woman pushed a button on her phone, transferring the call, and motioned Tess to the one mounted on the wall by the