smile on her lips. "I think most Americans are wary about traveling in Latin America."
"Of course they are."
She gave him a puzzled look. "So why did you lead trips there?"
"The unknown factor, I guess. You never know what to expect, even on a guided tour. In Bogota, for instance, sometimes you check your luggage at the airport, then instead of boarding the plane you end up in a basement, and there's your luggage going around the carousel as if you'd just arrived. But you're trying to leave."
"Why do they do that?"
"Native customs," he said dryly. "To search for drugs."
"I bet your clients loved that kind of treatment."
"I tried to instill in them the idea that it was all part of the adventure. I'd warn them in advance that on this tour, they would be travelers, not tourists."
She laughed. "I guess tonight I feel more like a traveler than a tourist."
I bet you do, Pierce thought. A half-formed idea about Monica was slowly taking shape in the back of his mind; a sculpture being carved from stone.
"You still lead tours?" she asked a while later, after their dinners had arrived.
"I sold my travel agency a few years ago, started a new profession."
While they ate, Monica asked him one question after another about his detective work. She seemed fascinated, even though he emphatically told her the work usually wasn't exciting, or even interesting.
"I never realized that auto manufacturers hired detectives," she said. "What would you do if you found out the car company was at fault?"
"Then my job would be to limit the damage as much as possible. You look at the claimant's driving record, find out whether he or she ever sued anyone before—anything that might bring about some doubts in the minds of the jurors."
Monica swallowed a mouthful of spaghetti. "Isn't that kind of like working for the wrong side?"
"Even confessed murderers deserve defense attorneys. It's sort of the same thing."
"How did you get involved with car manufacturers?"
"My old college roommate from Columbia University grew up to be rich and influential. He helped me out. I'm sure you've heard of him. Raymond Andrews."
"You're kidding. The movie producer?"
Pierce didn't think of Andrews as a movie producer, although he certainly was one. "Yeah, that among other things. He's got a lot of connections."
She looked impressed. "Are you two good friends? I mean, can you call him up and say, 'Hey, Ray, let's do lunch,' or whatever?"
Pierce was tempted to say Yeah, sure, he and Andrews were buddies. Instead, he told her the truth. "Not really. Especially not lately. You see, I took a consumer case against a car manufacturer. Word got around, and all the car companies dropped me. I'm sure Ray knows about it. He probably thinks I'm an idiot."
Monica nodded. "That's too bad you lost the business. But you're not an idiot and I wouldn't worry about what Ray thinks."
After they finished dinner, Pierce walked Monica to the Cardoza. She stopped outside the lobby and turned to him. The neon light from the hotel sign accented her high cheekbones and her long, graceful neck. Her body was angular, but feminine. Appealingly so, he thought. Her blue eyes were inquiring, but there was also a wariness about her.
"Thanks for going to dinner with me. I hate eating alone." As she spoke, she nervously fiddled with the crystal pendant that hung from a gold chain about her neck.
"My pleasure. Is that quartz?"
"Rose quartz. You like it?"
"I noticed it at dinner. It's nice."
"You believe in crystal power, Nick?"
He shrugged. "It seems to keep my watch running on time, but I'm still usually late."
"Did you know that if you send out loving vibrations to a crystal, it will respond in kind, enhancing your love?" Pierce reached out, stroked the crystal, touching her hand and neck as he did. "I didn't know that."
Monica smiled, took a step back. "I better go. Thanks again. It was nice."
"Good night."
Pierce watched her cross the lobby and head for the elevator. As soon as
"Of course they are."
She gave him a puzzled look. "So why did you lead trips there?"
"The unknown factor, I guess. You never know what to expect, even on a guided tour. In Bogota, for instance, sometimes you check your luggage at the airport, then instead of boarding the plane you end up in a basement, and there's your luggage going around the carousel as if you'd just arrived. But you're trying to leave."
"Why do they do that?"
"Native customs," he said dryly. "To search for drugs."
"I bet your clients loved that kind of treatment."
"I tried to instill in them the idea that it was all part of the adventure. I'd warn them in advance that on this tour, they would be travelers, not tourists."
She laughed. "I guess tonight I feel more like a traveler than a tourist."
I bet you do, Pierce thought. A half-formed idea about Monica was slowly taking shape in the back of his mind; a sculpture being carved from stone.
"You still lead tours?" she asked a while later, after their dinners had arrived.
"I sold my travel agency a few years ago, started a new profession."
While they ate, Monica asked him one question after another about his detective work. She seemed fascinated, even though he emphatically told her the work usually wasn't exciting, or even interesting.
"I never realized that auto manufacturers hired detectives," she said. "What would you do if you found out the car company was at fault?"
"Then my job would be to limit the damage as much as possible. You look at the claimant's driving record, find out whether he or she ever sued anyone before—anything that might bring about some doubts in the minds of the jurors."
Monica swallowed a mouthful of spaghetti. "Isn't that kind of like working for the wrong side?"
"Even confessed murderers deserve defense attorneys. It's sort of the same thing."
"How did you get involved with car manufacturers?"
"My old college roommate from Columbia University grew up to be rich and influential. He helped me out. I'm sure you've heard of him. Raymond Andrews."
"You're kidding. The movie producer?"
Pierce didn't think of Andrews as a movie producer, although he certainly was one. "Yeah, that among other things. He's got a lot of connections."
She looked impressed. "Are you two good friends? I mean, can you call him up and say, 'Hey, Ray, let's do lunch,' or whatever?"
Pierce was tempted to say Yeah, sure, he and Andrews were buddies. Instead, he told her the truth. "Not really. Especially not lately. You see, I took a consumer case against a car manufacturer. Word got around, and all the car companies dropped me. I'm sure Ray knows about it. He probably thinks I'm an idiot."
Monica nodded. "That's too bad you lost the business. But you're not an idiot and I wouldn't worry about what Ray thinks."
After they finished dinner, Pierce walked Monica to the Cardoza. She stopped outside the lobby and turned to him. The neon light from the hotel sign accented her high cheekbones and her long, graceful neck. Her body was angular, but feminine. Appealingly so, he thought. Her blue eyes were inquiring, but there was also a wariness about her.
"Thanks for going to dinner with me. I hate eating alone." As she spoke, she nervously fiddled with the crystal pendant that hung from a gold chain about her neck.
"My pleasure. Is that quartz?"
"Rose quartz. You like it?"
"I noticed it at dinner. It's nice."
"You believe in crystal power, Nick?"
He shrugged. "It seems to keep my watch running on time, but I'm still usually late."
"Did you know that if you send out loving vibrations to a crystal, it will respond in kind, enhancing your love?" Pierce reached out, stroked the crystal, touching her hand and neck as he did. "I didn't know that."
Monica smiled, took a step back. "I better go. Thanks again. It was nice."
"Good night."
Pierce watched her cross the lobby and head for the elevator. As soon as
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