“There’s someone I need to talk to.”
Twenty-One
Sydney
As soon as Sydney arrived back in her room, she threw her hat and glasses on the bed, untied the long braid in her hair, and plopped down on the small sofa near the side of the room open to the beach. She tried to take a deep, calming breath, but her body was still rigid with anger after learning the truth. She stood up again and pulled the sliding glass doors open, letting the ocean breeze flood her room with salty air.
It seemed that everyone around her had been lying. Sydney didn’t know whether to think she was naïve or just incredibly stupid. She had been married to Jack. They had shared a bed, a life, even toothbrushes. How could she have spent so much time physically with someone and not even know his real name? Or where he was from? Their whole marriage had been built on lies. From his past to his involvement with an international criminal.
To Jack, she had been an open book. Ready to share any part of her life she could, willing to be vulnerable in order to bring them closer together. Jack had appeared to reciprocate, sharing his hopes and dreams, but she realized now that he had been tight-lipped about his past.
Damn it! Sydney thought, pounding her fist on the table next to her. It seemed futile to be angry with him. He was gone. But the feeling was still there, even more so since she couldn’t ask him why he had decided to conceal the truth.
And then there was Alex. She knew it was dangerous to trust an FBI agent whose only job was to spy on her friends for evidence. But he had won her over, slowly. He had a way with her that made her feel confident in her real self—not just the person she was online—but at the same time, question everything about her life. She wondered if she was attracted to how he made her feel or who he really was.
Even though they had spent the last few days together, she really knew nothing about him. The connection had felt real, but now she was questioning her own intuition. Maybe it was all in her head, just like it had been with Jack. In fact, she wondered if Alex was even his real name. Apparently a real name was optional in the circles she ran in.
She looked up and stared at the TV, which was tuned to the hotel’s home channel. A carousel of photos were dancing across the screen showing off the resort’s beautiful architecture and lush landscaping. The photos featured happy couples laughing on the beach, having dinner, enjoying a couple’s massage. All lies, Sydney thought. Just like the picture-perfect life she had led was a lie too.
She knew Alex would be there any moment. While they were on the plane en route to Jamaica, he had typed a cell phone number in her contact list to get a hold of him in case of an emergency. She had sent him an emergency message as she stormed back to their room indicating she needed to speak with him now. She continued to pace the room, ready to explode at any moment. Finally, Alex burst through the hotel door.
“Sydney! Are you okay?” he said, his eyes searching her for any sign of harm as the door clicked shut behind him. She turned and glared at him.
“You lied to me,” she said as she charged across the room. She stood just a few inches from him and poked her finger in his chest. “You’ve been lying to me along with everyone else. This isn’t about finding Lizzy’s killer. You already know who did it!”
Sydney had to fight back tears as she talked. “You’re here because you want to bring down Vincente Estavez. Break into his inner circle. Probably trying to win the next FBI trophy or whatever they give you for arresting international criminals. You’re just using me to get to him!” She shoved her finger deeper into his chest and then dropped her hand to her side.
“Sydney, slow down. There is more to the story.” He reached up and put his hands on her shoulders. She quickly stepped out of his grasp.
“More to the story? My friend is dead! What about her story? What about the family and friends who loved her, the life she still had ahead of her? Maybe to you she was just another byproduct of an ongoing criminal case. But she was my friend,” she said as she pointed at her own chest.
“Sydney, please listen to me. I know Lizzy was important to you. We want to bring her killer to justice. But it’s complicated. There is an international criminal involved. The FBI is barely inside their jurisdiction—one wrong move and we lose control of this case. And that means Lizzy’s killer may never be brought to justice.”
“Well, let me make things a little less complicated for you. I’m leaving. I refuse to be a part of this anymore. You are on your own.” She pushed past Alex and pulled her suitcase out of the closet. She dragged it across the room and threw it on the bed.
“Sydney, wait. Let’s talk about this.”
She ignored him and continued to stamp around the room, throwing her clothes, toiletries, anything she could find toward the suitcase on the bed. Alex kept his eyes on her, watching calmly. She reached down and picked up a pale peach scarf. It had been a gift from Lizzy after Jack died.
Sydney stood and stared at the scarf in her hands. She began to tremble. The dam of emotions finally broke free, and Sydney started to cry uncontrollably. She had never felt so lonely, defeated, sad, and angry in her life.
Alex stepped forward and reached his arms around her. Despite her best effort to resist, she let him hold her as she cried. She was still angry with Alex, afraid to trust him, but more than anything she just needed a shoulder to cry on. She stood in his arms for a few minutes, letting all the emotion of the last few days run free from her body. Anger, fear, frustration, sadness, guilt came like waves through her tears.
Sydney finally pulled way, wiping away the makeup-filled tears from her eyes. Alex reached over and grabbed the box of tissues sitting on the TV cabinet next to her. He sat down next to her, handing her tissues while she took a few deep breaths.
“I’m truly sorry about Lizzy. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Estavez. I had strict orders to keep you in the dark. Trust me, the less you know the better.”
Sydney let out a small sigh. “You know you’re the second person to tell me that today.”
“Really?” he said, looking at her curiously. “Who was the first?”
“Alice. She was the one who told me about Estavez.”
“I see. Well, I don’t know what she told you, but Estavez is a very dangerous man. He’s wanted for a wide range of international crimes but mainly for his online gambling activities, which falls under the jurisdiction of the FBI. Which is why they sent me here with you.”
Sydney sniffled and pulled another tissue out of the box. She dabbed her eyes.
“So, do you think he killed Lizzy?”
“It’s the best lead we have so far. Though he’s never been convicted, Estavez has been connected to several murders that involved poisoning.” He shrugged. “It does make sense.”
“How does killing someone ever make sense?” Sydney said, fighting back her tears again.
“It doesn’t,” he said, reaching an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sydney.”
“Thanks,” she said weakly. They sat side-by-side, and she leaned into him for a moment, needing the comfort. “What happened to the man from the massage room? Was he one of Estavez’s guys?”