“Hey, babe.” They both turned. There was Nick, clutching a sack of bright orange turmeric in his big, paw-like hand.
“Hi,” Florence said tightly, realizing all of a sudden the predicament she was in.
“Hey, I’m Nick,” he said to Whitney when Florence failed to introduce them.
“I’m Whitney. I grew up with—”
“Whitney and I grew up together!” Florence interjected loudly.
“Oh, wow,” said Nick. “Small world.”
“Whitney’s traveling around Morocco with a friend of hers from college.”
“Awesome.”
“It’s been super awesome,” Whitney said.
Florence glanced around. “Is she here?”
“Amy? No, she’s passed out at the hotel. We had a very late night last night.”
“Niiice,” said Nick.
A silence settled on the three of them.
“Well you should totally come hang out with us tonight,” Nick said, turning toward Florence. “Right, babe?”
Florence frowned. This “babe” business had come on fast and strong. “Oh, it sounds like Whitney could use a quiet night,” she said.
“I’d love to, actually,” Whitney said. “It’d be fun to catch up. I just need to check with Amy when she wakes up.” She pulled out her phone. “Do you still have your same number?”
Florence shook her head. Getting a New York area code had been one of the first things she’d done after moving. She recited her 917 number as Whitney punched it in.
“Wait, you don’t have your phone,” Nick interjected.
“Oh. Right.” She turned to Whitney. “I lost it in the accident.”
“Here, take mine,” Nick said, rattling off his number for Whitney.
“Amazing. I’ll call you when I know our plans. I think Amy already made us dinner reservations, but if she’s up for it, we’ll come meet you after.” She took Florence’s hands again and looked her in the eye. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that I ran into you.”
“Okay,” Florence said lamely.
When she had gone, Nick turned and asked, “What’s up? You don’t like her?”
“No, I do, I just—I don’t know. I was surprised to see her, that’s all.”
Nick took his hand in hers as they walked out into the bright noonday light. Suddenly, Florence heard a now-familiar voice behind her: “Madame Weel-cock.”
She spun around.
Idrissi was planted just next to the entrance to the souk. Had he seen her go in? Had he been waiting for her? “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said.
“Thanks,” she managed. She was still off-kilter from her run-in with Whitney. This was the last thing she needed.
Nick looked back and forth from Florence to the policeman. “Hey man, I’m Nick,” he said to Idrissi, sticking out his hand.
Idrissi glanced at it dismissively before turning back to Florence. “So have you heard from your friend?”
Florence shielded her face from the sun. What was the smart move here? Saying yes was riskier—one more lie to build up and defend—but saying no would only heighten his suspicions about this mysterious, missing woman.
She finally nodded. “Yes. She’s in Marrakesh. As I thought.”
Idrissi stared at her for a beat. “Good,” he said crisply. “You know, it’s interesting: I’ve been having trouble finding the taxi that picked her up at Dar Amal that night.”
“Does it matter?” Florence asked. “She’s back in Marrakesh. She’s fine.”
“Just tying up loose ends. Policework isn’t all car chases and shootouts,” he said with an unpracticed smile. “Do you have her phone number? It would be helpful if I could speak with her.”
“Her phone number? Um, not on me. It was in my phone, which was lost.”
“Perhaps it is at the house, then? If you’ve spoken.”
“Oh, maybe. But actually she called me. On the landline.”
“Well, that makes it easier. I’ll check the phone records.”
Florence paled. “Right.” She felt the sun scorching the top of her head. “I’m actually still not feeling a hundred percent,” she said abruptly. “I was just going home to rest.” She turned away from Idrissi and walked directly into the busy road, forcing a moped to veer around her while the driver shouted something unintelligible.
Nick took her arm and guided her safely across the street. “What was that all about?” he asked when they reached the other side. “Who’s your friend?”
“He’s not my friend!” Florence exclaimed.
“No, the friend he was talking about.”
“Oh. I was traveling with someone for a while but she went back to Marrakesh. Now this policeman investigating the car accident is totally fixated on her. I don’t know why. It was just an accident, but he won’t stop hounding me about it.” Her voice took on a hysterical edge. “I don’t know what else to tell him. I don’t remember anything!”
Nick put his hand on her arm to slow her down. “Hey, hey, relax. Listen, the cops here are all notoriously corrupt. He’s probably just pissed you haven’t tried to bribe him yet.”
Florence stopped walking. “Really? Is that true?”
“Yeah. Liam slipped like forty bucks to the one who caught him with a dime bag and the whole thing went away.”
“Oh.”
She looked back at where Idrissi was standing, watching her. Was this whole thing a misunderstanding? Could she make it go away right now?
Florence checked her purse. She still had close to fifteen hundred dirhams of Helen’s. She took out two bills and crumpled them in her hand. Recrossing the street, she felt Idrissi scrutinizing her and smiled uncomfortably.
“Hi, again,” she said when she reached him.
He nodded at her.
“I just wanted to say that I really appreciate all your help after the accident—driving me home and returning my scarf and everything. And all the work you’ve put into the investigation. Thank you.” She awkwardly held out the money, now crumpled in a soft, soggy ball in her palm. This must be how Helen’s lover felt, she thought, trying to tip the staff at the hotel under her judgmental gaze.
Idrissi’s eyes traveled down to her hand then back up to her face. He didn’t move.
“This is for you,” she said, thrusting her palm forward. “To say thank you.”
“My English is still not as good as I’d like,” he said after a beat. “Is this what is called a bribe?” He smiled mirthlessly. “Is that the right word?”
“No, not at all! It’s just a gift. Or…whatever you want it to be.”
“So you must often give gifts like this to the police in America then?”
“Sure. Sometimes.” Florence felt the blood rushing to her face.
“Do you? I thought it was illegal there. As it is here, of course.”
“Is it? I didn’t realize.” Florence shoved the money back into her bag. “Sorry. I just wanted…”
“To say thank you?” Idrissi finished for her with a smirk.