“What about her backpack?”
Rosa advanced the video.
Evan had taken it from Lily just before boarding.
Then, while walking behind Mateo’s boat, he’d shoved it beneath the rear bench through an open side gate.
“He wanted us to think she was on the excursion,” Rosa said.
“No.”
I could barely breathe.
“He wanted me to wait 30 minutes before I noticed she wasn’t.”
Nobody contradicted me.
Mateo joined us.
“The launch?”
Rosa showed him a still image.
He swore under his breath.
“You know it?”
“Old resort tender. Sold after the renovation.”
“To whom?”
“Local marine contractor.”
Rosa looked at him.
“Which contractor?”
Mateo’s face changed.
“Calder Marine.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But it meant something to Rosa.
“Evan?”
Mateo nodded slowly.
“I haven’t seen him since last year.”
“Who is he?” I demanded.
Mateo answered.
“His father supervised part of the marina renovation. Evan worked here for a few months.”
“So he knew the resort?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“The uniforms?”
“Old contractor crews sometimes received resort polos if they were working around guests.”
Rosa was already on her radio.
Then I remembered something.
“Why Lily?”
They both looked at me.
“Why did he choose her?”
Nobody had an answer.
Then Rosa asked, “Did Lily talk to anyone yesterday?”
“She talks to everyone,” I said.
“Did she go anywhere alone?”
I thought.
The gift shop.
The game room.
The beach.
Then I remembered dinner.
Lily had spent 20 minutes talking to a young woman at the resort’s nature kiosk about sea turtles.
“She signed up for something.”
“What?”
“A junior reef program. They asked her name, age, room number—”
Rosa’s expression hardened.
“Where was the form?”
“On a clipboard.”
“In public?”
“Yes.”
Anyone walking past could have seen it.
A 12-year-old. Traveling with one parent. Room 318.
Interested in boat trips.
I felt sick.
Rosa’s radio crackled.
A guard had found something near the old east pier.
We ran.
The east side of the resort looked nothing like the postcard front.
It was totally different.
There were maintenance sheds, fuel tanks, stacked kayaks, and a weathered dock partly hidden behind mangroves.
A security officer held up a yellow plastic hair clip.
