The next couple of days were uneventful. Holly stayed in her room most of the time, like an animal nursing its wounds. The thought of Ross with her daughter was still unbearable and she refused to take Blake's repeated phone calls. After a while, she stopped expecting Roger to barge in at any moment and started to relax a little. He kept his promise of leaving her alone, although she could feel him keeping an eye on her from afar.

The third morning, Holly decided upon waking up that it was time to get out of that room and to explore her surroundings. After all, this city could become my new home, she thought. Armed with this new resolution, she tossed aside the satin sheets and briskly got out of bed. She opened the thick curtains wide to let the sun come in and stood on the balcony overlooking the pool, and, farther away, the canal. It was a glorious day, as could be expected at this time of year.

Stretching her arms and enjoying the sun on her face, she distracted herself by looking at the people lounging around the pool. The usual crowd was there; the old rich couple who obviously derived pleasure in abusing the staff, the drunkard who always dozed off under his umbrella and the sexy, if slightly over-tanned, lifeguard. Her eyes were then attracted by a moving bold patch of colour, and she followed a young woman she hadn't seen before, wearing a red and gold bikini. Her blond, wavy hair cascaded down her back and Holly could discern, even from the second floor, how big and bright her eyes were.

"Bimbo," Holly mumbled under her breath, aware that she was probably being unfair but thinking it anyway. She was about to walk back into her room when she noticed the same woman stopping by a table right under her balcony and striking up a conversation with someone that she couldn't see. Looks like she found a prey, she thought, now amused. Her smile was quickly replaced by a look of utter surprise, however, when she realized that the prey had Roger's voice. Bending as far as she could over the rail, she was able to catch a glimpse of his smiling face, deep in conversation with the blond. He looked totally at ease, confident in his charms as usual. As much as she hated to admit it, he truly was an attractive man. He and his women, she thought with a pang, suddenly furious.

She hurriedly stood back up to leave and blood rushed out of her head, leaving her dizzy. Then her surroundings started to fade and she held on tight to the rail, knowing that she was about to have another vision. All of a sudden, she was back in the same little white and blue living room, sitting on a couch, feeling queasy. She turned to discover Roger, standing in the kitchen, making what appeared to be a tuna sandwich and talking about a woman named Jenna. The scene faded to make way for another and before she knew it, she was in Roger's arms, gazing into his eyes before giving into a passionate kiss.

She snapped back to reality, panting. She sat down and tried to make some sense of what she had just experienced. Who was Jenna, and what part had she played in their story? Why had she felt jealous of that woman when Roger obviously wanted her? She replayed the kiss in her mind and hid her face in her hands, blushing deeply. She had wanted him to kiss her, there was no denying it. Desire, jealousy, longing, fear and, above all, confusion, threatened to make her spin out of control.

There was only one thing that she could do if she wanted to get to the bottom of these visions; she would have to talk to Roger.

In another part of the city, in another luxurious hotel, a meeting was going on, and it was not going well.

"Why the hell didn't you follow them?" the handsome man asked through the cigars' smoke, in a low but menacing voice.

Miguel was standing in the middle of the room, obviously wishing he could be somewhere else.

"He said he would shoot me if I tried, Diego," he said in a sheepish tone.

Guerrera stubbed out his cigar on the table, right next to the ashtray. He stood up and went to the mirror, arranging his tuxedo vest in a meticulous manner. "Do you mean to tell me that you were afraid of an American?" He glanced at Miguel's reflection in the mirror and his voice seemed to swell and fill the entire room. "Do you mean to tell me that I have hired cowards?"

Miguel took a few steps back, thinking about the money Roger had given him. "No, of course not. I just though it would be more important to come right back and report to you."

"We almost lost a shipment because if these gringos. Thank God it was the local police that found our crew; they won't blab, but it made us look bad, Miguel, it made ME look bad. And I hate that," Guerrera said.

Finally satisfied with his appearance, he turned toward Miguel again with a sigh. "Did you at least find out who they were?"

"I had them checked out as soon as I came back. I got their names from the hotel in Acapulco. The tough one is called Roger Thorpe, he used to be with the CIA. The other one is a lawyer, Ross Marler. He left back for the States with Thorpe's daughter three days ago."

"What about the pilot, Johnny Bauer?"

"Turns out he left for the States, too. Do you want me to send someone after them?"

Guerrera considered the idea for a moment, and then shook his head. "Don't bother; it's Thorpe that was the mastermind behind all of this, so it's him that I want. No one ridicules me and gets away with it."

"I checked all the airports and ports and couldn't find anything. I am pretty sure that he's still in Panama City. I have a couple of men searching for him as we speak."

Guerrera looked pleased and pointed to the door, letting Miguel know that the meeting was over. Then, he asked, as if an afterthought: "And the woman?"

Miguel turned back and almost shuddered when he saw the look in Guerrera's eyes. He knew his boss; and he realized that this was probably the information he had been after since the beginning of the meeting. "Her name is Holly; Thorpe's wife. No word from her either," he answered.

"Make sure you find her too. I want her alive."

"And Thorpe?"

Guerrera grinned. "However you feel like."