Chapter 52

I could hear indistinct French over Mark’s phone, in all likelihood announcing his flight.

“Gotta go, babe.”

“Have a safe flight. I’ll talk to you later tonight, if you’re over your jet lag.”

“For phone sex? I’m never that jet-lagged.”

“Excellent. Bye, Mark.” And once again, just to tease him, I made kissing noises.

He burst into laughter, and I could picture him shaking his head. “Bye, Quinn.”

IX

WORK ON THE MOVIE had wrapped up earlier in the week. I told Mark I was staying a few days longer—I’d take the opportunity to do some research while I was in LA. What I actually planned was to investigate what had happened to La taverna del perro sucioand surprise my lover. I wanted to impress him.

Chili Valdez had been kind enough to fly me down to Columbia, although I’d be on my own getting home, since she was picking up a passenger who needed to be flown to Puerto Vallarta. I rented a car in Cartagena, drove to Barichara, and succeeded in learning… not very much.