Return to hotel.
He felt as though everyone was staring at him when he got back to the hotel. What must they be thinking of a man who looked as though the world had ended with a heart broken child in his arms. He was given his key without having to ask for it, something he was glad of, because he did not want to talk to or interact with anyone, and he went up to the room.
The sight of his room filled him with despair. Rachel was not in it; that was one reason. The other reason was that it had been searched, not roughly, but its disturbance was obvious. He resisted an impulse to straighten everything out, to remove their touch from his things and instead ordered up some food for Emma. He could not manage anything more yet.
He sat watching his bewildered daughter as she looked around the room. She had wriggled out of his grasp at the first opportunity, and although he would have preferred to hold her, he knew she would start to cry again if she didn't have her way. Now she was standing in the middle of the room, regarding everything with suspicion. This wasn't like her. Normally, she'd be exploring everything. He didn't know what to do about her - if anything.
A few minutes later there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Ross called listlessly. Emily came in, bearing a tray.
"I sometimes help out, if we're short staffed," she said at his speechless look. There was a side table and she laid out food there.
"Oh." He saw there was also coffee, which he hadn't asked for but now realised that he welcomed. He watched her pour it out.
"I just wanted to take the opportunity to let you know that my staff will help you in any way they can." He looked blank. "With phone calls, that sort of thing. They've got all the numbers you might need handy, you only have to ask."
"How do you know?"
"They could hardly search this room without me knowing about it." A faint look of distaste crossed her face. "The maid for this floor tidied up, but obviously things can't be exactly as you left them. I also can't guarantee that nothing's missing - I'd vouch for my staff, but not for the police." So they had turned the room over.
"Did they tell you what happened?" Ross asked.
"No, but I could hazard a guess." Ross stared at her. "It must have been something to do with the airport, and customs. That could only mean… " she glanced over at Emma, who had moved closer to Ross and was looking at her with reserve. "One or two things."
"It's ridiculous," Ross said. "They've accused her of smuggling in four kilogrammes of cannabis." He felt weak for divulging this to Emily, who was being unexpectedly helpful, when he'd anticipated the reverse, but it would probably be in the papers soon anyway. Her eyebrows flew up.
"That is ridiculous."
"You believe that's ridiculous?"
"She never struck me as the type of person who would do that kind of thing. And you never struck me was the type of person who would put up with a person who was into that kind of thing, at least," she amended, "not for very long."
"So now I've got to figure out how to get her out of there," Ross said.
"I'd call your embassy first thing. I know you've got a little girl to take care of, but I'd make that call now."
"Oh," Ross said. Why had he waited to be told? He'd been so full of plans to do that before he had been interrogated, but now on the other side of that experience, he couldn't remember a single thing.
"The switchboard will put you through." Emily, who had already turned to the door stopped. "I know that might not be as private as you like, but there isn't any phone on this island that is truly private. And there are other things you're going to need."
"What are they?" Ross asked. She looked at him steadily.
"Money is one, because you're going to need a lawyer and you're going to need to have enough money to stay for a while." And then her face softened. "Neither of you would realise exactly how long this is going to take to resolve. You should call your family and friends. You'll need every single one on your side." With that, she left the room, closing the door gently after her.
He was afraid of just how right she was.