As Brodie walked round the corner to the apartment, he became aware of someone behind him; he stopped suddenly. His follower stumbled into his back, surprised by Brodie’s action. He turned to find an attractive, tanned, blond, woman that he guessed she was in her mid to late thirties. She was wearing a white cotton dress and a red, straw, Stetson with a red and white ribbon around the brim, and carrying an oversized red and white striped beach bag over her shoulder with a compact Glock 9 pistol in her left hand, partly hidden by the bag.
“Please keep walking, Señor Brodie,” her English heavily accented.
Brodie looked down at her, standing his ground.
“I said….”
“I know what you said.”
“Then do what I say, unless you want that I use this.” She poked the Glock at his midriff.
“So, you
