FIVE YEARS LATER

Miguel Rodriguez hissed with disgust as the clouds gathered above his head just when he wanted to start fishing.

It was also so blasted hot and humid he thought he was in a steam bath instead of a cabin in the Rhodesian Castle.

Leaning against the cabin porch rail, he tossed the tip of his cigarette into the ash tray, wiped at the sweat on his brow, then frowned darkly at a clump of tall cattails on the other side of the lake where the fool woman was hiding.

His phone rang at that golden moment which made him look away. A smile crept up his lips...