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I can possibly help, and I’m still not positive you’re telling me the truth. If we meet in a public place, I guess you can convince me later. Where and when do you suggest?”
    “Are you familiar with the Lighthouse Hotel on Shelter Island?”
    “Of course I am, but why a hotel?”
    Kevin sighed. “I’m not asking you up to my room. I knew you would want to meet in a public place, and I thought the lobby bar might give us some privacy. It’s a tourist hotel, so hopefully the visitors will be out sightseeing,” he explained. “Plus, the Lighthouse is too secluded for business meetings. A public place with privacy. Well? Is it okay?” he pressed when she didn’t answer.
    Alexandra thought for another moment. “Yes, it’s fine. I was wondering how I will know you.”
    “You won’t at first. But I’ll greet you the moment you walk in, and then you can check my ID.”
    “How will you know me?”
    Kevin’s explanation oozed with sarcastic syrup. “I think it is possible I have a picture of you.”
    “Well, you don’t need to sound so condescending! How am I supposed to know about this kind of thing?”
    “I’m sorry,” he offered sincerely. “I guess I’m anxious to meet with you.”
    “I’m sorry too. This is all so weird.”
    “I understand. Now what time? Is three good?”
    “Yes, three is fine.”
    “It’s set, then. I will meet you at three o’clock today in the lobby bar of the Lighthouse Hotel on Shelter Island. Do you have any questions?”
    “No, I think I’ve got it.”
    “Great,” Kevin said. “Now, Miss Callet—”
    “Please call me Alexandra.”
    “Thank you. Alexandra, it is imperative that you do not mention this conversation to anyone.”
    “I understand.”
    “Also, please do not tell your office where you are going.”
    “I won’t. I leave all the time for appointments,” Alexandra explained. “No one will even ask.”
    “Okay, good. Believe me, once we meet and talk, this will all make sense.”
    “I hope so.”
    “It will. I promise.”
     
    ***
     
    Armando
     
    Armando’s idea of “first thing Monday morning” came around nine thirty a.m. After parking his silver sports car in the Administration garage, he sauntered casually toward the elevator. Once inside the main building, he navigated his way through the maze of hallways and headed for the security elevator that would take him to the basement.
    With his keycard in hand, Armando entered the elevator and placed his magnetic card into the slot. Then, as the thick metal doors rolled closed, he punched the required code on the adjacent keypad to activate the elevator. While the car descended, Armando checked the smoothness of his hair in the burnished doors.
    After arriving in the basement, he walked down another hall, his footsteps echoing loudly on the concrete floors. When he passed the closet-sized phone room, he poked his head inside to look for his superior. The room was empty. Armando wondered if Kevin had made contact with Alexandra Callet yet.
    He continued down the corridor and immediately caught a glimpse of his partner through the glass panes of the adjacent room. Conner was sitting next to a panel of electronic equipment, apparently listening to the audio of Daniela. His elbows rested on the smooth surface of the table as he leaned forward with his hands cupped over the ears of a headset.
    When Armando entered the room, Conner glanced up and immediately removed his earphones. “About time, my man!”
    “What’s up?”
    “These recordings, that’s what is up.” Conner raised his hands in frustration. “I came in early to try and get through some, but most of them are in Spanish.”
    Armando nonchalantly grabbed the chair opposite his partner. “Can’t live without me, huh?”
    “Not today.” Conner tapped the crystal of his diver’s watch. “So what are we keeping, banker’s hours?”
    Armando shrugged. “Hey, what can I say? We had the weekend off.”
    “Did you get any