Part I: She's Been Everybody Else's Girl, Maybe Someday She'll Be Her Own

And, In the Shadows, She Crawls

The hotel was nice enough to live up to Sra. Alvarez's standards, which was one of the reasons Natasha had become acquainted with it. Part of her web included very nice hotels, which were a valuable resource. One, because escorting clients wealthy enough to afford her would demand it, and, two, because people didn't look in these kinds of places for anyone on the run. They looked in seedy motels, not the most expensive place in town.

In any case, Isabel helped her client finish packing her essentials. She explained that the bulk of the estate was being auctioned off – there was no reason for her to stay here and be reminded of her husband. Watching her carefully (without being obvious about it), Natasha determined that Sra. Alvarez had loved her husband and regretted his death. That didn't mean she wasn't complicit in it, of course, but it was a start.

The same unfriendly driver took them back into town, and it was clear to Natasha that he was quite fond of his mistress. Which perhaps explained her chilly reception – he didn't trust her to protect Sra. Alvarez. She was used to that reaction. Other people's frequent habit of underestimating her was always an advantage.

During the drive, the widow described all of her relatives, friends, and acquaintances who would be attending the funeral and the wake the following day. There were three brothers-in-law (Hector, Luis, and Tino), a step-son and his wife (Jorge and Ana), Sr. Alvarez's business partner (Juan Gonzalez), among others. The family business had been real estate, which led to timber, which led to the kind of multi-faceted and indefinable company that wealthy people liked. It brought in millions without anyone having to be too concerned with anything tangible.

Isabel studied the pictures Sra. Alvarez had on her phone of the people in question while her client talked, and the briefing (as Natasha thought of it) lasted until they had arrived. The older woman was a good judge of character and Natasha appreciated the insight she could provide. Not all clients were so forthcoming, or prepared.

A thorough sweep of the hotel room convinced Isabel that none of Sra. Alvarez's rivals intended to act tonight (Natasha suspected they would wait until after the publicity of the funeral), so she sent the woman to bed. Before turning in herself, Natasha researched the names on Sra. Alvarez's list, as well as whatever she could determine about the family.

The funeral was a staunchly Catholic affair, and Isabel went through the motions at Sra. Alvarez's side, discreetly observing the other attendees. Nothing was out of the ordinary, but she wouldn't relax until she had escorted her client safely out of the country. Her family was from Peru and she would be returning there as soon as possible, having been made to feel unwelcome by her in-laws. To put it lightly.

Isabel had attempted to draw her out and pin down exact reasons why Sra. Alvarez feared for her life, and why she placed those fears on a few specific people. The widow had been unwilling to go into detail, and Isabel let it go. Her job was to stop attackers, not necessarily predict them. Natasha did not like being Isabel sometimes. Information was her currency and she hated not having as much as possible.

Once the old man was in the ground, the family returned to the house for the wake. There were over a hundred people present, and Isabel was feeling stressed about how to keep her client safe in this crowd. It would be hard to spot a threat ahead of time, especially because the people approaching Sra. Alvarez came bearing gifts or mementos that might be tucked away in pockets.

"You seem on edge, dear. Everything alright?" Sra. Alvarez asked under her breath.

"Everything's under control," Isabel assured her.