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Carefully, he lowered the mug into a plastic bag and zipped it closed. Soon he’d know if Kristen was Elena.

Chapter 5

    A fter Dane left Kristen in the yoga studio, he pulled his van around the corner and parked in the municipal parking lot.
    Lucian Moss, who was waiting for Dane in his blue pickup truck, got out and started toward the small coffee shop, as they’d agreed earlier. He wore a black AC/DC T-shirt. Moss went into the café and ordered a cup of coffee.
    Cambia picked up Kristen’s mug in the plastic bag and climbed out of his van. Glancing from left to right, he made sure no one was watching and then crossed the street and entered the shop. He ordered coffee and sat down across from Moss.
    “You’re late,” Moss said.
    Cambia glanced around the shop and then handed the mug to Lucian. “It couldn’t be helped.” He slid the Baggie across the table.
    Moss tucked the mug in his bag. “So what is she like?”
    Cambia sipped his coffee. “The last thing I expected.”
    Moss’s gaze sharpened. “Do you think we have the wrong one?”
    Dane considered the question. There were only hints of the princess who’d spent most of her twenty-five years on the Miami beaches and in exclusive clubs. But it was her. “No.”
    “Excellent.”
    “She’s very different.”
    “Nine months on the run can change anybody.”
    Dane had a sense of what she’d endured on the streets, but couldn’t imagine how she’d dealt with it. “Once you’ve run the prints and we have a confirmation, then we’ll move forward.”
    “Why not start now?” Moss’s gaze was lean and hungry.
    Knowing they’d found Elena should have made Dane happy—did make him happy. When they caught Benito they’d not only dispose of a cold-blooded killer, but they’d put a major dent in the south Florida drug-trafficking trade.
    Despite all that could be gained, a part of him was also very sorry. He liked “Kristen.” To his surprise, she’d gotten under his skin. “I want to be sure. Only then do we set the trap.”

Chapter 6

    Thursday, May 17, 6:55 a.m.

    S ince her escape from the safe house, it had become Kristen’s habit to rise before the sun. In her old life, she’d only seen the sunrise when she’d been coming home from a club or party. Then dawn’s red glowing rays signaled an ending. Now, it represented new beginnings.
    She sat in the half-lotus position on her yoga mat in the center of Sheridan’s studio. The lights were dim and she’d put on a calming CD. In the beginning, she felt a little silly sitting here like this, but Sheridan had insisted it would help her focus and concentrate.
    Her work with Cambia yesterday had left her body stiff, and her muscles ached. But the discomfort didn’t bother her. As hard as life had been this last year, there was satisfaction. Despite all odds, she was surviving, even prevailing.
    Kristen turned to the right, gently twisting the tightness from her back. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind.
    But instead, the sense of well-being faded. Dark thoughts from the past crept into her mind. She tried to push them aside but they grew stronger, pulling her back to the past.
     

    Sitting in the limo’s plush interior across from her brother, Elena clenched her hands in tight fists. Tinted windows prevented her from seeing outside. But judging by the roughness of the road, the car had turned off the main highway onto a side street.
    Antonio had insisted she dress tonight in something bright and cheerful. Instead, she’d chosen a severe black dress which, combined with her long black hair, made her look pale.
    The scent of Antonio’s aftershave blended with the smoke of his Cuban cigar. He wore a white hand-made suit that fit his muscular frame perfectly. Gold links winked from white linen cuffs. His dark hair, peppered with gray at the temples, was slicked back. “I’m not happy with you, Elena. That dress is unsuitable.”
    His soft accent didn’t disguise the steel