He picked up the other two sketches. “As for these, they appear to be house plans, though I don’t recognize either. This one could be a high-ranking Cabal employee, given the size. The other looks like an apartment. I should fax them to my father.” He glanced at Paige. “Is there a fax in the building?”

“I didn’t see one. The front desk would probably do it. Or if you want privacy, there should be a twenty-four-hour print shop somewhere nearby.”

She was reaching for the phone book when he said, “It would be easier to drop them off,” and picked up his cell phone again.

I anticipated a strained conversation—business-like at best—but it sounded like any son talking to his father. Lucas explained what we had, asked about dropping by and Benicio seemed to readily agree. Then Lucas glanced at Karl, who didn’t pretend he couldn’t hear the other side of the discussion, and shook his head.

“They’ve had a very taxing day, Papá,” Lucas said. “They want to get back—”

Pause.

“Yes, perhaps it would but—”

Another pause, then he covered the receiver. “My father would like you and Hope to accompany us. He wants to ask you about the plans directly.”

Karl hesitated.

“Once that’s done, your part will be over,” Lucas said. “You can head to the airport from there if you like.”

Karl nodded.

WE TOOK SEPARATE cars. Karl had no intention of hanging around any longer than he had to. The moment we were done, we’d be heading to the airport.

Benicio lived on Key Biscayne, a secluded island south of Miami Beach, accessible only by a long toll causeway that had Karl muttering, looking in his rearview mirror as if trying to judge how far we were from the airport. It wouldn’t be more than a thirty-minute drive, but the closer we drew to the island, the more distant Miami seemed. The island was gorgeous, heavily wooded with white-sand beaches glittering under the remains of a perfect sunset.

If I worked in Miami, I’d want to live on Key Biscayne, though as we started passing houses, I knew I could never afford it. There were probably less expensive areas, but I didn’t see a house that would sell for under a million. Even the hotels looked out of my price range.

Benicio lived on the waterfront, of course. The homes on the large, secluded lots weren’t mansions, but I was sure it had to be one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Florida.

Lucas pulled into the drive of a house set back and partially obscured by forest. The eight-foot fence looked merely decorative, but Lucas stopped to talk into a tree, which I presume discreetly held an intercom.

After a moment, he glanced at Paige, as if saying something. Karl rolled down his window as Lucas turned back to the intercom.

“Is he having trouble?” I asked.

“No one’s answering.”

I put my window down and inhaled. It even smelled different than Miami, the warm air not quite so humid, the smog gone. A breeze fluttered past, rich with the scent of some heady tropical flower. It was so still and quiet I could hear water lapping against the beach, at least a quarter mile down the winding drive.

Lucas got out of the car. We joined him as he examined the intercom. Karl took a look, but it wasn’t his area of expertise, so he focused on something that was—the secured gate.

Paige got out too, waving her cell phone. “No answer from your father, but he might just be busy.”

“I’ll call the duty guards,” Lucas said.

“Is the gate usually guarded?” I asked Paige.

“It isn’t manned, but there are guards who patrol the yard. One during the day. Two at night. That’s who Lucas is calling.”

The distant symphonic ring of a cell phone started. We peered into the darkness, trying to pinpoint the sound.

“It’s near the house,” Karl said as he walked back. “The gate’s still secured.”

The ringing stopped.

“Voice mail,” Lucas said as he hung up. He looked more puzzled than concerned. My first thought was that this was the gang’s target. But Lucas would have recognized the blueprints, and the locked gate meant no one had broken in.

“Is the fence electrified?” I asked.

Lucas shook his head. “My father prefers to handle intruders more discreetly. It’s wired to an alarm system that would alert the guards.”

As he headed back to the car, Paige said, “Please don’t tell me you’re going to ram the gate.”

A tiny smile. “Nothing so dramatic.”

He pulled the car up alongside the fence.

“Ah, a step stool,” Paige said.

Lucas went first, then helped Paige down on the other side. As I crested the fence, a vision flashed and I nearly toppled over. The sudden movement snapped me from the vision, and I let Karl help me down, then closed my eyes, trying to recapture the vision. After a moment, I heard a voice.

“About time. How long does it take you—” The man swallowed the last words. “Jesus, Frank, what are you—?”

“Hands where I can see them,” a second voice hissed.

I struggled to see faces, but could make out only shadowy figures against a black backdrop.

“Have you lost your mind?” the first man said. “Whatever you’re doing—”

“How do I get in the room?”

“Room? What—?”

The vision snapped as abruptly as before. As it faded, I felt a faint lick of chaos. Lucas, Paige and Karl all stood around me, waiting.

“Someone with a gun. Someone named Frank. He was asking about a room. How to get into a room.”

“What room?” Paige asked.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t—” I gave an angry shake of my head. “I’m sorry. That’s not enough, I know. Let me try again—”

“No,” Karl said. “We’re here now. Quicker to look ourselves. The cell phone sounded from just over there.”

Lucas handed Karl his phone. “Hit redial if you need it. Paige and I will head to the house. If anyone’s in the yard, we can warn the guards inside.”

“Any problems, call my cell,” Paige said.

Karl turned to me. “Stay close.”

I nodded.

“I mean it, Hope.”

“I know.”

HOPE: DEATH INTERRUPTED