She draped the clean linens over the arm of the sofa and handed me the key card.

“There’s tea and coffee in the kitchen,” she said.

“And the security guard downstairs has a picture of Daniel.

If he tries to get into the lobby, they’ll call the police right away.”

“He doesn’t know this address,” I said.

“Good,” Brenda said, heading for the front door.

“Get some sleep, Mariana.

You’ve got a quarterly strategy meeting at eleven thirty tomorrow.”