156 P.M
PETRA
The Director was walking faster than normal which made his limp more noticeable.
It was from an old injury he sustained while chasing a suspect through a mechanic’s shop.
The suspect picked up a wrench and flung it back at him like it was a Frisbee.
It broke his kneecap and tore some of the ligaments.
“But don’t worry, Petra, I got the guy,” he said every time he told the story (which was at least once a year, and how did he not remember he’d already told her several times?
Or maybe he did know, but he just didn’t care since he loved that story and she was being paid to listen).
He had gotten the guy by having his partner wait for him at his house while The Director (who was not a director in those days, but a lowly constable), was laid up in the hospital awaiting surgery.
The patella had healed nicely but the ligaments would never be the same.
And now, when he tried to walk quickly or, God forbid, had to run, he did so with a limp.
He was coming back from wherever he had gone.
Petra knew it must have something to do with the mysterious yacht death— that’s what she was calling it for the moment.
She’d spent the better part of the last hour trying to think of the perfect name for this season of Luka’s podcast (because that’s what a helpful podcaster’s wife would do), but so far that was the best she’d come up with.
She wondered if The Director had gone to meet with the chief of staff in the prime minister’s office.
He had that same sweaty look he got whenever he had to go over there.
He stopped at her desk. “I need you to book me a room in Mali Losinj for tonight. Use my name but not my rank. And don’t tell them I’m there for work. I don’t want to make a big deal about this.”
She paused for a second, all sorts of questions flooding her brain that she dared not ask. “How many nights should I book you for?”
“Better make it three, but check that they can accommodate me if I need to stay longer. I don’t want to have to change hotels while I’m there. I’ll be very busy.”
“Of course. Would you prefer a hotel room or an apartment?”
“I don’t care so long as they have a hot tub. My knee is acting up.”
He turned and went into his office, this time leaving the door open.
Petra quickly did a Google search for accommodation with hot tubs, then a brilliant idea hit her.
She pulled out her new phone and texted Luka.
The Director wants me to book him a room in Mali Losinj.
I was thinking I could book him into the same place as you, so you can ‘accidentally meet him.’ Where are you staying?
Her heart pounded as she saw the three dots appear on the screen to show he was already typing back. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching.
Luka
Genius! Aurora Suites. I’m on the third floor.
Is there a hot tub?
Luka
Yes.
If you didn’t bring swim shorts, go buy some. He’ll be in the hot tub in the evenings. He has a limp and looks just like the actor John Malkovich.
Luka
You’re the best! I was starting to think I should give up because my attempts at getting anyone to talk have failed so far.
Hopefully you’ll get a break soon. I wish I could be there with you. We could sit in the hot tub and look at the stars.
Luka
I have to run. Let me know if you find anything out, okay?
She smiled at his message. She was the best. That felt good.
Intoxicating, really. She would prove to him that she was the best partner he could hope for.
Tucking the phone back in the drawer, she got busy booking the room for her boss, her heart filled with joy even though her hands were shaking at what she was doing.
Just as she was logging onto the hotel’s website, one of the sergeants, Joe Arbanas, walked into The Director’s office without a word to her.
Petra couldn’t stand Sergeant Arbanas. He was one of those self-important cops who liked to push his weight around.
He certainly wasn’t about to ask a lowly secretary for permission to talk to his boss. He closed the door and sat down.
Petra quickly booked the room, then pretended to be busy working, when really she was looking up words to do with yachting and murder, hoping the perfect title would fall into her lap.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the two men were in what looked like a rather intense conversation, both of them leaning forward and talking quietly.
A few minutes later, they walked out. Sergeant Arbanas went back to his desk on the far side of the office while The Director walked over to Petra’s desk with his briefcase slung over his shoulder. “How did you make out with the room?”
“Great. I have you booked at a nice seaside hotel with a hot tub. Breakfast is included,” she said. “I’ll email you the confirmation right away.”
“Thank you.”
“Let me know if there is anything I can do while you’re away.”
He smiled at her, and she felt a little better, hoping maybe he was feeling less suspicious of her than he was earlier. But then he said, “Just be your usual self.”
His meaning was not lost on her. But it was too late now. She had jumped in the water with both feet and there was no swimming back to shore from here. Only forward through choppy waters to the other side where her future was waiting.