I’d been planted behind a newspaper in the lobby of the Four Seasons for hours. Outside a fiesta of some sort was underway. Mexican flags and red, green and white banners where everywhere. I prayed he wouldn’t come out of the elevator and walk into the growing crowd outside.
Elisa’s voice cracked in my ear. She was undercover as a maid on his floor. “He’s moving,” she said. I felt a surge of adrenalin and sat up, ready for anything. Anything except the crowd outside where tracking him would be impossible . . .
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