"Interpol mostly keeps our team in Europe. Actually, it is the first time they ever sent us to this side of the globe. I have a house in La Rioja, Spain."
"Wow. What's it like?"
"It's rural but stunning. There are wine vineyards and mountains."
"It sounds beautiful."
"It is. You would love it, I think."
She wiggles her eyebrows. "Maybe you can sneak me in the country and show me it one day."
"I would love to take you there."
Silence.
Great. I said something wrong again.
"You haven't traveled outside of Latin America a lot?"
She shakes her head. "Few times to Madrid for concerts but that’s it."
"You would love Europe.”
"I was always focusing on my career. But I always wanted to explore Europe."
"You still have plenty of time."
More silence.
"Ask me another question."
"How did you get to work for Interpol?"
"I thought we were playing trivia?"
She shrugs.
"I joined the Marines when I was eighteen. They recruited me when I retired."
"Why did you join the Marines?"
"My dad was in the Marines. He met my mom when he was in Germany. She was from there.”
"Ahh. So your Dirk is German and not Dutch then."
"How did you know what my name meant?"
"I've spent too many hours to count traveling on a tour bus. Something about names always intrigued me, so I got into onomastics to help pass the time."
"Ono what?"
She laughs. "Onomastics. In basic terms, it's the study of the history of names."
"Well, your skills are impressive. What does Zoe mean?"
"It's originally Greek origin and means life."
I glance at her. "That's appropriate for you."
"Why?"
"You fill people with life when you sing." Or are just in the room with them.
She blushes, and I hate that I have to focus on the road. She quietly asks, "What happened to your mom?"
My stomach flips. "After I was born, she wouldn't stop bleeding."
She puts her hand on my thigh. "I'm sorry."
"In some ways, I think it was harder for my brothers. They were three and six. I don't have the memories that they do."
"Life is kind of cruel, isn't it?" she mumbles.
"Sometimes." I slow down then stop when I come to an intersection. I study the compass on my watch. "I'd give anything for some directions right about now."
Zoe opens the console between us and pulls out a folded map. She smirks. "Something like this?"
"Tell me you can read maps."
She holds up her hand in a rock on gesture. "God gave me map skills too."
What didn't God give you?
"All right, my Little Diva. You're on map duty."
She opens it up. "I need you to show me where we are now."
I turn on the overhead light and circle an area. "My guess is we are somewhere around here."
"How are we getting across the borders?"
"We need to find an opening."
We study the map.
She traces the coastline. "Do you have money on you?"
"Yeah. Quite a bit."
"How do you feel about boats?"
"I'm down with any form of transportation."
"You might regret saying that."
"Why?"
"What about kayaks?"
"I'm an excellent kayaker."
She playfully squeezes my biceps. "These might get a little tired."
"Doubt it." I pick up her hand and flip it. I trace the pads of her palm. "These might get a little calloused."
"I'll live."
"Tell me where we get the kayak, and I'm ready to show you my skills."
She points to Punta Gorda. "One of our flights had a mechanical failure. We were flying from Venezuela to Belize City. We had an emergency landing. There were several hours to kill, so I explored the town. There's a kayak shop right around here. You can put it in the water right there too. We could go right over to the peninsula.”
“We would need to stay near shore. That area right there would be too rough for a kayak.”
“But it would save us a lot of time.”
“Not if we’re dead.”
“Point taken.”
I squeeze her hand. "But I love to kayak. And I'm so pumped I could kiss you right now."
She freezes, and we lock eyes.
I clear my throat. "Sorry. Figuratively speaking."
She nods, and her face falls. "Sure. Ummm...should we get going then?"
"Yeah." I focus my attention back on the road and curse myself for saying that.
Several minutes pass.
"Ready for the next question?" she quietly asks.
Relieved, I smile at her. "Bring it."
"What song do I shamelessly love?"
"La Bamba."
"Nice. What about you?"
"La Cucaracha."
She laughs. "No, it's not."
"It is."
"You do realize it's about a cockroach who can't walk?"
"You have something against cockroaches?" I tease.