“Hurricane Charlie ripped through this tiny town of 877 and obliterated it. In less than an hour it was wiped off the map. But authorities are calling this a success story. Why? Because there were no casualties. None. Look around you and all you’ll find is debris. Where houses once stood, there are piles of brick, stone and rotting wood. Where there were once businesses, broken glass and concrete are twisted together with metal. But folks here are happy today. The early-warning system they installed a year ago saved the town’s entire population.”
“Tom, I’m going to go call John and check in,” Isabel called over to the photographer while hunting through her purse for her cell phone. “But you know what we need—a wide shot of the main street, closeups of those people over there walking on that debris pile, blah, blah, blah.”
“Roger that.” Tom was distracted, searching for a blank tape in his gear bag. “We’ll have liftoff in T-minus five minutes.”
“You’re mixing metaphors.”
“Copy that. But right now I have to locate a Texas Arthur Peter Elvis. Aha! Have located said target and will now execute your orders, Sergeant.”
“Whatever.”
Tom straightened back up, tape in hand, eyes locked on something—someone—in the distance. “Incoming.” His voice softened so only Isabel could hear him.
Isabel looked up and then followed his line of sight.
“Oh, my God.”
Tom stepped in front of her.
“Were you expecting company?” he asked over his shoulder, still locked on his target.
“No.” Isabel could not believe who she saw through the tangled mess of a tropical town.
“I’ve got it covered.”
“Tom, it’s okay.” Isabel halfheartedly tried to shake her fear off and rein in her friend.
“No way, man. No way.”
“Well, well, well,” Alex said through his Cheshire cat grin, his whitened teeth fluorescent against his tan. “Look who we have here.” He sauntered up to them.
“What’re you doing here, man?” Tom asked in a belligerent tone.
Alex ignored him, although it must’ve been hard since Tom was twice his size and blocking his path to Isabel.
“Isabel, could you call off your guard dog?”
“What are you doing here, Alex?” she asked, emboldened by Tom’s protectiveness.
Alex gave Tom an I-could-take-you-if-I-felt-like-it look, even though he would most certainly have lost in a fight with Isabel’s burly photographer. He smiled smugly at them both.
“Can’t a man take a little vacaciones, as they say here? Great place, Puerto Rico. And, last I checked, a free country.”
“You expect me to believe you came here on vacation. In the middle of hurricane season. Coincidentally when I’m here working?” Isabel asked. “Who told you I was here?”
“Lots of questions from la muchacha,” Alex said.
“Don’t be a dick.” Tom was impatient. “Get lost, man. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“That true, my darling?”
Isabel winced at the mock term of endearment. “I have to work, Alex.”
“My wife and I would like a moment to ourselves.” Alex adjusted his spine to try for a taller appearance as he spoke to Tom.
“I don’t take orders from you, asshole,” Tom replied.
“I’ll just be a minute, Tommy.” Isabel gently touched his back as if to calm him down. “I’m okay.”
“I’ll be over here.” Tom indicated a shady spot about two yards away. “Right here.”
When Tom was just out of earshot Isabel turned her attention back to her estranged husband. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you, I’m on vacation.”
“Don’t give me that, Alex. I know you followed me here. Why?”
He reached out and she flinched. “Easy. Easy. I’m just getting this hair out of your eyes.”
Out of the corner of her eye Isabel could see Tom was watching them intently.
“Look, I’ve got to go.” Isabel took a step toward Tom.
“Okay, okay, we’ll play it your way. But I must say you’ve completely lost your sense of humor.” He took a deep breath. “I thought we could talk. Just the two of us.”
“Alex,” Isabel groaned. “We’ve been over this a million times. It’s over. Let’s just move on, okay? Have a little distance?”
“It’s not over,” he said calmly, the smile instantly vanishing from his face. “Not by a long shot.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. We are not over. This—” he motioned at an invisible string tying them together “—is not over.”
“Isabel, we gotta ship out,” Tom called to her.
“You better go now.” Alex’s smile clicked back on. “You wouldn’t want to keep your bodyguard waiting.”
He didn’t wait for Isabel to respond. He walked backward so that he could face her. “Adios.”
Isabel felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.