Reviving Izabel, стр. 2

I finish off the bacon and a small helping of eggs, washing it down with a glass of milk.

Dahlia and Eric show up together just after I finish brushing my teeth.

“Come on, we need to get on the road,” Dahlia urges me out the front door. Her sandy-brown hair is pinned to the top of her head in a sloppy, just-woke-up bun.

I hug Dina goodbye.

“I’ll be fine,” I tell her. “I promise. I’m not going anywhere near where he lives.” I actually picture a man’s face this time talking about someone that doesn’t exist. I guess I’ve had to play this role for so long that ‘Matt’ and all of these ‘friends’ of mine in L.A. I talk about it to everyone as if they’re real, have become real on a subconscious level.

Dina forces a smile through her worried face and her hands fall away from my elbows.

“Call me when you get there?”

I nod. “As soon as I walk into my hotel room, I’ll call you.”

She smiles and I hug her once more before following them to Dahlia's waiting car. Eric puts my suitcase in the trunk with their bags and then hops in the backseat.

“Hollywood here we come!” Dahlia says.

I pretend to be half as enthused as she is. It’s a good thing it’s so early in the morning, otherwise Dahlia might take my lackluster attitude for what it really is. I stretch my arms out behind me and yawn, resting my head against the seat. I feel Eric’s hand on the back of my neck as he starts to knead the muscles there.

“No idea why you want to drive to L.A.,” Dahlia says. “If we took a plane you wouldn’t have to get up so early. You wouldn’t be so tired and grouchy.”

My head falls to the left. “I’m not grouchy. I’ve hardly said a word to you yet.”

She smirks at me. “Exactly. Sarai not speaking equals grouchy.”

“And recuperating,” Eric adds.

My face flushes and I reach a hand behind my head and play-slap his hand as it moves in a heavenly motion against my neck. I shut my eyes and see Victor there.

I didn’t do it on purpose.

We arrive in Los Angeles after a four hour drive. I couldn’t go by plane because I wouldn’t be able to carry my weapons along with me. Of course, I couldn’t tell Dahlia that. She just thinks I wanted to take the scenic route.

I have seven days to do what I came here to do. That is, if I can pull it off. I’ve thought about my plan for months, about how I’m going to do it. I knew all along that there’s no way I’m getting into the Hamburg mansion. That requires an invitation and socializing in the public eyes of Hamburg’s guests and Arthur Hamburg himself. He saw my face. Well, technically he saw more than my face. But I have a feeling that what happened that night when Victor and I tricked Hamburg into inviting us up to his room so that we could kill his wife is something he will never forget, right down to the small details.

Hopefully, a short-cut platinum-blonde wig and heavy dark makeup will hide that long, auburn-haired identity of mine that Hamburg would remember the moment I stepped into the room.

CHAPTER TWO

Sarai

I spend the entire day with Eric and Dahlia playing along to pass the time. We go out to eat for lunch and do a Hollywood tour with a guide and visit a museum before heading back to our hotel, exhausted. At least, I pretend to be exhausted enough that I’m ready to call it a day. Really what I need to do is get ready to go to Hamburg’s restaurant tonight.

Dahlia already thinks there’s something wrong with me.

“Are you coming down with something?” she asks reaching between our poolside lounge-chairs and feeling my forehead.

“I’m fine,” I say. “Just tired after getting up so early. And when’s the last time I did this much walking around in one day?”

She leans back against her chair and adjusts the big, round sunglasses on her face.

“Well, I hope you won’t be tired tomorrow,” Eric says on the other side of me. “There are so many things I want to do. I haven’t been to L.A. since before my parents divorced.”

“Yeah, it’s my first time back in two years,” Dahlia adds.

A teenager jumps into the pool several feet away and splashes us a little. I raise my back from the chair and shake the droplets of water from the magazine I had been reading. I pull my sunglasses off my eyes and rest them on my head. Swinging my legs over the side of the chair, I stand up.

“I think I’m going to head up to the room and take a nap,” I announce as I grab my mesh pool bag from beside me on the concrete.

Eric sits up straight and removes his sunglasses, too.

“I’ll go with you if you want,” he offers.

I gesture toward him, indicating for him not to get up. “No, you hang out here and keep Dahlia company,” I say, shouldering my bag. I slide my sunglasses back over my eyes so he can’t detect the deceit.

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” Dahlia asks. “Sarai, you’re on vacation, remember? You’re supposed to be having a good time, not napping.”

“I think I’ll be one hundred percent tomorrow,” I say. “I just need a long, hot bath and good night’s sleep is all.”

“OK, I’ll take your word for it,” Dahlia says. “But don’t you get sick on me.” She shakes her finger at me sternly.

Eric reaches out and curls his fingers around my wrist. He pulls me down to him. “You sure you don’t want me to join you?” He kisses my lips and I kiss him back before rising fully into a stand again.

“I’m sure,” I say softly and leave it at that.

I leave them by the pool and head to the elevator.

The second I’m inside the room, I lock the door with the chain so Eric and Dahlia can’t walk in on me. I drop my bag on the floor and open my laptop, punching in my password. While it's booting up, I look out the window to see my friends, although small from this height, still lounging at the poolside. I sit down in front of the screen and for probably the hundredth time, I look at every page on the web site for Hamburg’s restaurant, double-checking the hours of operation and scanning the professionally-shot photos of the building, inside and out. None of this is really helping me with what I intend to do, but I still find myself looking at it every day.

Feeling defeated, I slam the palm of my hand down on the tabletop.

“Dammit!” I say out loud and slouch against the chair, running my hands over the top of my hair.

I still don’t know how I’m going to get Hamburg by himself without being seen. I know I’m in over my head. I have been since I conjured up this crazy idea, but I know if all I do is sit around and think about it I’ll never get past that phase.

I came here with a plan: go to the restaurant in a disguise and act as any other guest. Scope the place out for one night. Where the exits are located. The entrances to other areas of the building. The restrooms. But my number one priority was to find the room where Hamburg sits watching the guests from above and listening to their conversations from the tiny mic hidden at every table’s centerpiece. Then I would sneak inside and slit the pig’s throat.

But now that I’m here, not six blocks from the restaurant, and now that the days I have to do this are ticking away, I’m feeling less confident. This isn’t a movie. I’m a stupid girl to think I can waltz into a place like that unseen, take a man’s life without drawing attention and escape without getting caught.

Only Victor can pull something like that off.

I hit the tabletop again more lightly this time, close the lid on the laptop and stand from the table. I pace over the red and green speckled carpet. And just as I resolve to head down the hall to the room I secretly rented separate from Dahlia and Eric, the door cracks open but is stopped by the chain.

“Sarai?” Dahlia says from the other side. “You gonna’ let us in?”

I sigh heavily and walk over to unlock the door.