It’s a good thing I’m so charming.
I catch the next ferry out to Ibiza. This time, my mind is too preoccupied to pay attention to whatever movie is playing. By the time we dock, it’s well after dark. I find my scooter still in the lot and take it back to the road along the beach where my boat was anchored. There’s enough of a moon for me to just barely see it in the distance, and then only because I know where to look. At least something is going right so far.
There’s no way I’m taking the boat out to the convent island at night. Instead, I stop at a restaurant to eat something then head to my apartment to sleep until sunrise.
Since I dozed some on the ferry ride in, I do fine with a few hours of sleep, waking just before light begins to appear in the sky. By the time I walk back to the beach, leaving my scooter at the apartment where it belongs, the sun has broken past the horizon. I swim out to the boat and waste no time heading back to where all of this started.
As I enter the lagoon, an instant smile appears on my face as I remember what happened the last time I was here. The treasure hidden up in those caves has nothing on the one that I stole from here. After anchoring, I dive into the water and climb up the cliffside to the cave.
Now that Constantin knows where my treasure is buried, I have to find a new hiding place, so I collect everything. It takes three trips, filling my small duffel bag that I can swim with.
I save the earrings for last, and when I get back on board, I take a closer look at them. At first, I find nothing that would give any indication of a tracker. After only a moment’s hesitation, I pull out a knife and work the emeralds free from their settings. Constantin never said they had to be in one piece when I return them to him. That’s where I find one hidden underneath each of them. Tiny, but obviously powerful.
I curse the damn jewelry and toss them aside, swearing again at my stupid luck. Then again, it’s probably best that they ended up with me instead of one of the others. At least I have a plan for how to handle Constantin.
The sun is already past the midpoint in the sky by the time I leave so I speed back to Barcelona. Before I can set all my plans in motion, I have a plane to catch.
There’s just one more obligation I have to take care of.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Enrique
“You made it just in time, I see.”
I smile at my mother as she walks over to hug me. Actually, it isn’t so much a hug as her taking my shoulders and whispering a kiss on either cheek. Mustn’t sully the makeup. Especially when it’s so professionally done.
Ava Marín is as sophisticated as they come. She presents the perfect image for Marín Properties: successful, upscale, desirable. Her blonde hair, professionally dyed these days, is twisted at the nape of her neck without a single strand of hair out of place. The simple white, halter dress, held up by a gold loop at the neck, highlights her perfectly maintained body.
“It’s your anniversary. Of course I’m here,” I reply.
She holds me at arm’s length, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. I’ve changed into an Armani suit before arriving. I’m not jaded enough to assume her inspection is only to make sure I look and dressed appropriately. However, I’m not sentimental enough to think there isn’t a hint of that there beyond the maternal I-haven’t-seen-you-in-ages assessment.
“You brought a gift? Two, in fact,” she says in surprise. “Enrique, we specifically told everyone no gifts. Your father and I have too much already. In fact, we have a bit of a surprise tonight.”
“I’m your son; I’m the exception to that rule. This one is for you,” I say, handing her a small box. Inside is a ruby ring. I had to change the setting of course, just in case the original owner should recognize it. Any guilt I have over gifting my mother stolen jewelry is absolved by the fact that the original owner is, in a way, a thief himself. Besides, red is her favorite color.
“I will open it later. Come, come, the guests have just started to arrive.” She takes my hand and leads me into the grand foyer of the house that I grew up in. The pool beyond the large, open living area is lit up, and lanterns strung around it provide ample lighting for the guests mingling outside.
“Enrique, son!” My father announces as my mother gets near enough for him to notice us. He pulls me in for a firm hug. A sure sign he’s already been drinking.
My father is the charm beside the beauty that is my mother. His personality makes him more attractive than he really is. Even as a child I preferred his jovial inclinations rather than the subdued standoffishness of my mother.
“Happy anniversary,” I say, handing him his gift.
“A gift! What a nice surprise,” he says, then instantly begins to open it.
I notice my mother’s lips tighten imperceptibly at such gauche behavior.
“A watch!” He announces, holding it up for inspection. Then, he takes a closer look at it. His brow lifts almost comically when he sees the brand. “Patek Philippe! Very, very nice, Enrique. You must be doing well.”
“Business is booming,” I say graciously.
The men around him all chuckle appreciatively.
“My son is in technology,” my father says, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “I still haven’t figured out exactly what you do. What is it again?”
“I handle issues surrounding EC2 auto scaling, cloud formation, SQS and—”
“Yes, yes,” My father says, interrupting me as his circle of guests’ eyes begin to glaze over. I use language specifically designed to accomplish this. No one ever asks for a deeper explanation into what I do for a living. Just in case anyone does turn out to be a tech nerd and ask for more details, I have a website and business address. “Like I said, I don’t know, but it pays the bills!”
He holds up the watch once again for their benefit before putting it on.
“Thank you, son,” he says after taking one more look at it.
“You’re welcome, Papa,” feeling oddly sentimental at how much he appreciates it.
“That was a very impressive gift,” my mother says, guiding me away, no doubt to show me off to her friends. “Your father and I are very proud of you, Enrique. And to think, we were so insistent you come work for us. I suppose it’s all for the best.”
“Yes,” I say tightly.
Once again, her lips press tightly together, no doubt remembering the one major bump in the road I discovered so many years ago. She lets go of my arm, apparently no longer interested in giving me the grand introduction to all the very important people in attendance.
“I’m sure you are hungry, or perhaps you would like something to drink. There are plenty of both. Enjoy yourself. And thank you so much for the gifts, Enrique.” She leans up to air kiss both my cheeks again, and with one quick smile, she leaves me on my own.
Which I prefer.
I spend most of the rest of the party playing the good son to familiar faces and new ones. Beyond being my parents’ son, their interest is limited.
This is the reason I never entertained the idea of bringing Leira to this thing. Watching my mother with her practiced smile and my father with his hyperbolic charm, it feels like a charade of a perfect life. Both of them are just snobby enough to find fault with her in some way, whether it’s being American, not being one of the elite specifically from Marbella, or, most likely, being half-negro. The scandal alone would have been worth it for me, but I would never put Leira through that. One day, when the madness is over, I’ll introduce her, making it perfectly clear to them what she means to me.
Where it goes from there…
Just as it did when Leira whispered those words to me in the police station, my heart goes briefly into paralysis before beating twice as hard. Where it goes from there is something to dive into later.
For tonight, at least the food is good and the bar is well stocked.
About an hour into my arrival, my mother stands at the threshold of the sliding glass doors that lead out to the pool and claims everyone’s a
ttention. Once the voices have settled, my father joins her.
I lean against one of the back walls of the patio area and await the announcement. I assume it will be some variation of the usual talk about marriage and love and years together along with a final thanks to the guests for helping them celebrate.
“My wife and I would like to thank you all for helping us celebrate thirty-one years of marriage,” my father begins. “This woman has stood by my side through every endeavor, every up and down, good and bad. She is my partner not just in marriage, but in business as well. Marín Properties would not be as successful as it is today if not for the two of us, working together as a team.”
I would have been surprised if they didn’t mention their business. Any opportunity for promotion.
“Speaking of Marín Properties, we have an exciting announcement to make,” he continues.
I perk up at that. My mother mentioned something about this earlier, so this must be it.
“We are about to invest in our biggest venture yet. Marín Properties, will soon be adding….Marín Hotels, a line of boutique luxury accommodations for only the finest clientele. The ground breaks on our first hotel here in Marbella in two months!”
The expected exclamations of surprise and applause breaks out, myself included. They must be doing as well as I am.
Which is interesting.
Yes, Marín Properties has had a few boom years since the last bust, but opening a line of hotels is a risky venture in any economy. It’s a venture that requires a lot of capital. I’m almost certain they haven’t sold off their inventory, at least not enough to cover this. So where is the money coming from?
It’s hardly my concern, being that I chose to step away from the family business. Most of me is happy just to be happy for them and drop it.
But something nags at the back of my mind that just won’t let it go.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Enrique
The sun is rising by the time the last guest leaves. I’m lounging on one of the chairs by the pool while the cleaning crew clears up around me.
My father is well into his preferred liquor of choice, rum. My mother is sated enough from the success of the party to indulge him as he grabs her and attempts a slow dance around the patio.
I watch them with a hint of a smile on my face, enjoying the moment. It’s good to see them let loose and simply enjoy life, rather than focus so much on work or impressing people.
My father catches me looking and grins, dipping my mother down. She yelps in surprise then laughs, slapping him on the chest. That signals an end to her tolerance for such nonsense and she pulls away, subconsciously smoothing her, still very immaculate hair down.
I rise up to round the pool and join them.
“I guess more congratulations are in order beyond the thirty-one years together,” I say with a grin.
A genuinely pleased smile breaks out on my mother’s face. “Thank you, Enrique. Your father and I are very excited about this.”
My father is still dancing with himself as he lifts an imaginary glass toward me in salute. “And we have you to thank, my son,” he says with a wink.
“Miguel!” My mother hisses.
I’m not sure which of those utterances has caused my stomach to drop, but it lands with a hollow thud as disappointment and anger fill the void.
“Where did the money come from?”
“Your father is drunk, Enrique.”
“The boy has a right to know, Ava,” my father protests, his words slurring in a way that makes me think he’ll regret saying this much later on today.
“Shut up, Miguel!” My mother snaps before whipping her head around to make sure none of the cleaning staff are nearby. They have wisely decided to focus on the inside of the house.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask, not giving a shit who is listening. I focus on my father, realizing he’s the weakest link here. “What do you mean, I have a right to know?”
“Your father was just—”
“Stop,” I say in a low tone, holding up one finger to my mother to silence her. I return my attention to my father. “What is it I have a right to know?”
He seems to suddenly find his sobriety, no doubt at the intensity of my gaze. “It’s nothing, son. I was just—”
“Or I could use every ounce of my skill and resources to dig into this new venture of yours. This time, if I find so much as an i that isn’t dotted or t crossed, I’ll expose every bit of it. You want to keep silent on this thing I have a right to know about, watch me do the exact opposite.”
“How dare you!” My mother snaps. “After everything we’ve done for you—”
“Stop, Ava,” my father says with a heavy sigh.
She looks at him like he’s slapped her. “This is all your fault. If this falls through I’ll never forgive you.”
“If what falls through?” I ask, feeling my impatience quickly begin to overshadow my anger.
“We are constructing these hotels with a loan from your father, your birth father. Richard Coleman.”
It’s akin to what I expected, but it still has my head spinning. How? Why? Most importantly, when?
Then, something else occurs to me.
“A loan?” I ask, coughing out a cynical laugh. “Is that what it is?”
“Yes,” my mother snaps, quickly enough for my suspicion to heighten.
“Let me guess, you went with the highest bidder, maybe second highest just to avoid suspicion? Paid more than a fair amount for the land and construction materials? Then, once it gets going, he’ll suggest a cleaning company, a staffing company, laundry services, food, amenities, maintenance, all being paid slightly more than the average.”
“What are you insinuating?” My father asks, seemingly truly bewildered.
I turn to my mother, and the look on her face is only slightly less perplexed, as though something she had a sneaking suspicion about is true. I always figured her as the brains in this outfit.
“Yes, that’s right. Richard Coleman is a money launderer.”
“Quiet!” My mother hisses, once again looking around.
As if I give a shit who hears.
“The only question I have is how you came to know who my biological father is in the first place?” I say, ignoring her plea to stay quiet.
The two of them look at each other, and that hollow in the pit of my stomach turns into a vacuum, sucking most of the life out of me.
“When?” I say in a tone quiet enough to be dangerous.
“It was about six months after we adopted you,” my father says, giving my mother a look that shuts down any opposition. “He told us your mother had run off with you and he had been searching for you. He didn’t want to take you from us as you had been through some traumatic episodes while under your mother’s care and he thought you would do better with a new life.”
“Did he?” I retort, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“He just wanted us to keep him informed on what, if anything you remembered. Fortunately, you seemed to have forgotten everything and seemed perfectly settled in your new life.”
I mentally bless Sister Clara for warning me not to mention a word to anyone about what I’d seen. I doubt either I or the people standing in front of me would be alive right now if I had.
“And he was happy to pay you for your efforts? Maybe even coming through a decade later when your company was in trouble?”
Again they look at each other. My mother looks indignant. My father looks resigned.
“Yes, he did,” he says.
“And now? What did he want?” I ask, feeling the urgency settle back in again. “Tell me everything, starting with when he got in touch.”
“It was only this week. He asked about what you were up to, what you did for a living. Obviously, I couldn’t tell him much, neither your mother nor I understand—”
“Hostia puta!” I roar. Fucking Constantin must have tipped Richard off before I even met with him, despite
his threat on the boat. The stupid bastard never even knew who I really was to Richard.
“Enrique!” My mother exclaims at my outburst.
“You two may have just gotten an innocent woman killed. Worst case scenario, you’ll be next.”
The looks of shock on their faces almost makes it worth it.
“Do you know what it was that traumatized me as a child? I saw my father murder a man. He also murdered my mother. He’s not some angel investor who gives a shit about your business. That’s his leverage to get to me. You two have just signed a deal with the devil.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” my mother mutters, shaking her head in denial.
“Now you know the truth, a truth which puts a death warrant on your heads. Congratulations. I hope these hotels and all that money are worth it. As far as us…you and me are done.”
“Enrique,” my father says in a pleading tone.
I have no patience for it, not anymore. That odd feeling I always had growing up, that I was nothing more than a prop in their lives, suddenly makes so much sense. All those early years convincing me to forget my old life, all the years after in which I was plied with material wants in the place of true affection. It falls perfectly into place now.
I stalk off, my only concern being Leira’s safety.
If she’s not already dead.
Chapter Fifty
Leira
My head is pounding. I blink my eyes open, and the light just makes it worse.
“There’s our Sleeping Beauty,” I hear a voice say. It’s that of a man. American. “Considering the number of sedatives they had to ply you with on the plane after the chloroform just to get you to the car, I’m sure you probably aren’t feeling your best.”
Plane? Now that he’s said it, there are flashes of the luxurious interior of something that could easily be a plane. I try to think back further than that. I remember the police station in Barcelona. Saying goodbye to Enrique.
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