1

  Greta stared at the app's dark screen. The question "Where to?" appeared, in challenge. Since she didn't know how to answer, she typed "supermarket." She clicked on the option closest to I?ara's center and requested a ride. That's what he'd said, right? Any public place.

  She took one last look at the peaceful environment left behind: the families, the tour buses, the decorated windows of the small shops. When she looked ahead again, the landscape turned gray like the asphalt stretching from side to side, infinite.

  A white Renault Sandero approached five minutes later. Greta checked the license plate on her phone screen before getting in. She settled into the passenger seat, taking the opportunity to store the note in her purse. She wanted to see better what was happening behind the car without having to turn her neck constantly.

  The driver started a conversation about the weather, but she could barely pay attention. Her eyes were fixed on the rearview mirror, watching the traffic on the highway.

  On the first curve after leaving the station, she saw it. The black Civic appeared a few cars behind, maintaining a safe distance. Her heart raced when she realized the driver's mirror really did have a different color from the rest of the car.

  Daros was telling the truth, at least about that.

  Or not. It could be him behind the wheel of the Honda. But that would be stupid. And Daros didn't seem stupid. Why would he give himself away like that? She hadn't realized she was being followed. All he had to do was continue the pursuit quietly.

  To avoid raising suspicions, she got off at the supermarket, a colossus that occupied an entire block under a screaming orange canopy. Not bad for a small town. She went in and bought personal hygiene items. The wide aisles were almost empty at that time of day. As in every countryside market, there was a bit of everything on offer, but with a limited variety of brands. She fought the urge to keep looking around. Instead, she made an effort to relax while observing the large plant section. The employees didn't even try to hide their curiosity when she passed. They must recognize from afar who lived there and who came from outside.

  After going through the checkout, she made another ride request, this time back to the station.

  It was no surprise to notice the Civic was still on her tail.

  Back at the parking lot, Greta walked slowly to the car. Her heart beat hard in her chest. Part of her still resisted the idea of trusting a man with serious behavioral issues. But another part, the part that had just confirmed she was being followed, knew she needed help, from whoever it was. She wasn't in a position to choose.

  She pretended to tie her sneaker near the driver's door. A thin manila envelope was rolled in a plastic bag and secured under a rock beneath the vehicle, near the front tire.

  Opening the SUV door, she placed the shopping bag on the passenger side. The package burned in her lap, as if it were on fire. She tore it open, knowing she didn't have much time to act without raising her pursuer's suspicion.

  Who would be after her? This seemed like too sophisticated a scheme to find someone as ordinary as her. She could be resilient, she could be determined and even combative. However combative she was... she was still just a woman. A lonely woman who barely knew what she was doing.

  She read the second note.

  Drop the car key discreetly. Don't worry about theft. I'm watching. Don't worry about your things. I'll take everything to you. Take another Uber. This time, go to the Vip Motel. The garages are individual, and we need that. At reception, say your partner is waiting for you in another room or something, and that you'll leave with him. Pay in cash. Leave money in the room for what you consume. When you're settled, get a beer from the minibar. Empty the bottle halfway and leave it visible for whoever passes your apartment on foot. That way I'll know where you are and I'll send new instructions.

  So, that's what she'd have to do. Take a leap in the dark, hoping there was no rock at the bottom. Greta followed the instructions to the letter. When she closed the car door and locked it, she let the key slide to the cement floor smoothly. She kept walking as if enjoying the sunny afternoon, hoping the pursuer would believe nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

  She requested another Uber with a few taps on the screen. Her steady hands didn't betray her nervousness. She informed the Vip Motel as the destination and waited, trying to keep her face impassive. And forgettable too.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  She was surprised when the driver showed no interest upon realizing he was taking a woman alone to a motel. Maybe it was something much less rare than she imagined, and she was grateful for that.

  At the establishment's reception, which looked more like an army guardhouse, her voice sounded firmer than she imagined when telling the rehearsed story.

  "Someone will meet me later." The employee, a young brunette chewing gum, didn't even blink. She must be used to all kinds of stories. She was a teacher, and knew that well. She'd lost count of how many grandmothers had died just to justify students' absences or failure to meet a deadline to turn in an assignment. Greta paid in cash, as instructed. She received the key to apartment twenty.

  She kept her head down as she walked through the place's courtyard. The structure was simple and functional. Two long buildings extended on both sides, divided into townhouses in a light shade of yellow around a cemented courtyard. Each apartment received a brown garage of the same size, with their respective numbers engraved beside them. The blinds on the upper floor windows and the potted plants tried to give the units a more welcoming air.

  Greta understood why Daros had chosen that destination. The garages offered total privacy. No one could see cars or people inside if the gates were closed. The courtyard with modest flower beds here and there had only one entrance, which also served as an exit. She imagined it would be easy for him to see who came and went.

  She walked to garage number twenty and entered. The gate closed behind her with a metallic click. A dry, final noise, perhaps similar to an avalanche arriving in the distance.

  She climbed the spiral staircase leading to the room. She took a Heineken longneck from the minibar. She drank half on impulse, almost in one gulp, returning to the dark garage. She was more concerned with positioning the bottle visibly next to the half-open gate than actually enjoying the drink. After leaving the beer on display at the indicated spot, she returned to the room and opened another bottle. She didn't know how much she needed a little alcohol until she took that sip.

  Now it was a matter of waiting. And hoping she'd made the right choice.

  2

  From the position where he'd parked the Jeep, Daros had a privileged view of the SUV and could still see the Civic, a bit farther from the commercial complex. He saw the key slide and almost heard the tinkle of metal against asphalt. The signal. He waited. The Civic didn't take long to go after the Uber taking Greta, exactly as he'd predicted.

  He started the engine and parked the Jeep next to her car. The transfer of the woman's luggage was divided into parts. He didn't want to leave anything personal behind. First he took the large suitcase from the trunk, then some shopping bags from the back seat, organizing everything between the two cars with the precision of someone mounting a tactical operation. Finally he searched the passenger seat. He opened his first smile of the day: under the seat was a book with a blue cover. He didn't need to read the cover to know it was about optimism. He couldn't explain why, but his gift still there, a remnant of a kind act, left him... satisfied. Almost at peace. With everything removed, he locked the car and stored the things in the Jeep. The camera at that point was already out of action. Work done in advance, like everything that was important in that operation.

  He drove to Criciúma, to the apartment he'd rented under a fake name on Airbnb. He typed the code sent by the host into the intercom. The garage opened. The private box offered the invisibility necessary for the next stage of the plan. He left the Jeep there and walked to the nearest car rental.

  The receptionist smiled as soon as he entered the store, her teeth too white under the environment's intense light. Her impeccable blonde hair and manicured nails matched the place's bright decor. The smell of new leather spread through the air.

  With a clean shave, a casual gray T-shirt, and a very serious face, the newcomer looked like one of those rebel heartthrobs from the movies. She straightened her shoulders, adjusted her uniform collar, and received him.

  "Good afternoon! Welcome to SpeedyCar. Can I help you?" The honeyed voice was forged over years practicing sympathy and persuasion.

  "I want to rent a car. Nothing too fancy." His eyes examined the available fleet. He sought the obvious: something common, with dark windows. Invisible in traffic. He took his driver's license from his pocket and handed it to her.

  She took the document without paying much attention, looking more at the photo than the other information.

  "Mr... Fabrício Neves?" she read the name aloud.

  Daros nodded.

  "Perfect, Mr. Neves." She typed the data into the system. After reading the information on the screen, she continued: "Everything's in order. How long will you need the car?"

  "Two days. I'll return it at the Florianópolis location," he replied, simulating a yawn. He wanted to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

  "Perfectly, sir. Traveling for work or pleasure?" The tone was casual, but genuine curiosity showed in the girl's eyes.

  "Work," he didn't lie. That's how he felt. "Payment in cash."

  Opening his wallet, he separated the bills. He left a discreet tip: enough to please, but not to stay in memory.

  "Great." She typed some information and, while storing the payment in the register, continued, "Will you be traveling alone? I can include another driver's name."

  "Alone. Actually... I might have to return the vehicle here or at the Florianópolis unit. I don't know yet. Any problem?"

  "None. Shall we take a look at the available models?"

  While they talked, he'd already analyzed the options. A silver HB20 met the conditions perfectly. It was common enough to blend into traffic and reduced the visibility of its occupants.

  He signed the papers, took the keys, thanked her with a brief nod, and left the store. Upon reaching the highway in the rental car, he felt his muscles relax and made a stop on the shoulder. He took the flash drive from his pocket and inserted it into the dashboard stereo. He scrolled through the tracks with his right hand until he found his favorite. With his left, he closed the windows and turned on the air conditioning. To the sound of "Estranged," he drove to I?ara, where Greta should have already arrived at the motel. It was the best song Guns N' Roses had ever made, in his opinion.

  Too bad no one had paid attention. Just as well. At least the song hadn't played so much it became annoying. Along with the bright day, the melody gradually improved his mood.