Confessions of the Heart

by Amanda Stevens

  THE NEXT MORNING, it seemed obvious that the culprit had indeed been an overwrought imagination. Anna showered quickly and dressed, and decided her first order of business would be to check in with Luis about her car.

  Depending on what he told her, she might have to do some shopping or find a laundry. She’d already gone through all the clothes she’d brought for an overnight stay, and in this heat, plenty of fresh clothing was a necessity.

  As she left her room, Anna’s gaze went to the door across the hall. She started to go over and knock, but then decided that if it had been Emily getting in late the night before, it wouldn’t be polite to disturb her so early.

  Besides, with the sun already shining relentlessly overhead, the shadows and nightmares fled.

  Anna drove with the top down in spite of the heat, and when she arrived at the garage, Luis met her with good and bad news. He’d located a part. It was being expressed from Dallas, but since the following day was Sunday, the part wouldn’t arrive until Monday. It could be as late as Tuesday before he had her car running, which meant that Anna could be stranded in San Miguel for another four days unless she wanted to return to Houston without her car.

  But since she didn’t have any commitments in the city until a scheduled biopsy at the end of the following week, she didn’t think it would make sense to drive all that way only to have to turn around and come back once her car was repaired.

  At least that was what she told herself.

  Ben, of course, had nothing to do with her decision to stay.

  Two hours later, arms loaded with shopping bags, Anna returned to the hotel. As she inserted her key into the lock, she glanced across the hall. Emily’s door was still closed, but Anna knew the younger woman was probably up and about by now.

  Dropping her packages inside her own room, Anna stepped across the hall and knocked. To her surprise, the door creaked open, and she cautiously peered inside.

  The place was a mess. Contents of drawers had been dumped on the floor, the pillows and mattress were slashed to ribbons, and the lining of Emily’s suitcase had been ripped out and shredded.

  Someone had gone after the room with a vengeance. And suddenly Anna experienced the same sensation she’d had in the mission—that dark, creeping certainty that she was in the presence of evil.

  Backing out of the room, she turned and fled through the hallway and down the stairs.

  Chapter Ten

  Anna was waiting for Ben in the lobby when he arrived.

  She rose from a carved bench and hurried toward him. “Thanks for coming.”

  “No problem. You sounded pretty upset on the phone.” Although she seemed much calmer and in control now, Ben noticed.

  “It was a shock to see Emily’s room like that. Come on. I’ll show you.”

  They started toward the stairs.

  “Has anyone gone up there since you called me?” Ben asked.

  She paused. “I did, but I didn’t touch anything.”

  He scowled down at her. “I asked you to wait down here for me.”

  “I know, but I was afraid Emily might be up there, hurt or…worse, and needed medical attention.”

  “And?”

  Anna shook her head. “I didn’t see any sign of her, but, Ben, I’m still really worried about her. She said she’d be back by dinnertime last night, and she never arrived. And now this…”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “Margarete did. They should be here soon.”

  Ben took Anna’s elbow as they climbed the stairs, all the while telling himself he was a fool for touching her. Probably a fool for rushing over here the way he had, but once he’d heard the fear in her tone, nothing could have kept him away. And that worried him, too.

  She led him to the end of the hallway and pointed to the door on the right. “This is her room.”

  The door was still ajar, and with his foot, Ben edged it open a little farther. Even from the doorway, he could tell Anna’s concern was justified. Someone had really done a number on Emily Winsome’s room.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Wait out here.”

  Slowly, he entered the room, taking care where he stepped and making sure he didn’t touch anything, either. He checked under the bed, in the closet, and then in the bathroom. No body, no blood, no sign of a struggle that Ben could discern. That was good news, at least.

  He took another moment to glance around, then walked back out to the hallway.

  Anna said anxiously, “What do you think?”

  He shrugged. “Hard to say. It’s possible the police can get some prints, but I’m not holding my breath.”

  Anna ran her hands up and down her arms, as if suddenly chilled. “When I first saw the way her room had been trashed, I thought someone must have been looking for something. Money or jewelry. But that’s not it, is it? Whoever did this was in a rage. Or else they wanted to scare her.”

  Or they were acting out, Ben thought grimly. The destruction to Emily Winsome’s room was overkill. An intruder looking for valuables wouldn’t have taken the time to tear apart pillows or shred every article of clothing that had been hanging in the closet.

  Even her underwear had been slashed to ribbons.

  Anna was right. The destruction here was personal, and Ben’s gut instinct told him that she was right about something else, too. Emily Winsome could be in big trouble.

  But he kept his fears to himself. He didn’t want to worry Anna any more than she obviously already was. He tried to push away the protective instincts that were struggling to the surface. Tried to tell himself that Anna Sebastian wasn’t his problem.

  But when he turned and gazed down into her upturned face, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold on to her until he could be sure she was safe.

  The time for that, however, would have to be later. They both turned as footsteps sounded down the hallway. Tony Mendoza, flanked on either side by Margarete and Acacia Cortina, strode toward them.

  Mendoza wasn’t a tall man, but what he lacked in stature, he made up for in bravado. Dressed in jeans, boots and a black T-shirt, his long, black hair greased back and fastened in a ponytail, he looked more like a street thug than a cop.

  As he neared the room, his gaze zeroed in on Anna and lingered. Lingered for so long, in fact, that Ben moved to her side. The possessive gesture was not lost on Mendoza, who smirked, nor on Acacia. Her dark eyes narrowed as she glanced from Ben to Anna, then back to Ben.

  Ben had a sinking feeling that trouble was brewing inside her mercenary little heart.

  Mendoza strode to Emily’s room and glanced inside. “Has anyone been in here since I was called?” he demanded.

  “Both Anna and I had a quick look around to make sure no one had been hurt, but nothing has been disturbed.”

  Mendoza turned with a scowl. “What are you even doing here, Porter?”

  Before Ben could answer, Anna said, “I called and asked him to come.”

  Mendoza gave Anna another once-over, this one not quite as friendly as the first. “And you are?”

  “Anna Sebastian. I’m the one who discovered the room.”

  “And so you just strolled right on in, huh? It never even occurred to you that the intruder might still be in there?”

  “It did,” Anna admitted. “But I was worried about Emily. I thought she might be hurt.”

  Mendoza turned to Ben. “And your excuse?”

  Ben shrugged. “The same.”

  “So it took the two of you to figure out that Emily Winsome wasn’t in there. Interesting.” His gaze was still on Ben. “You seem to have a bad habit of turning up at crime scenes, Porter. I’m starting to get a little curious about that.”

  “You know what they say about curiosity,” Ben said.

  Mendoza didn’t seem to appreciate Ben’s irony. “By all rights, I could haul you in for tampering with evidence.”

  Ben was used to Mendoza’s threats, but he could tell Anna was taken aback
by the man’s posturing.

  “Now wait just a minute,” she said.

  And she was clearly not going to let him get away with it.

  Ben watched with amusement as her cheeks flushed with color and her eyes snapped with anger. He had a feeling he was glimpsing a bit of the woman Anna had been before her illness. “Ben’s here because I asked him to come. I had no idea when you would get here, Detective, and I was very worried that something had happened to Emily Winsome. For all we knew, she could have been lying in that room, hurt or even dead. We had to check it out. So your attitude, as far as I can tell, is completely unwarranted.”

  Mendoza lifted a brow. “You’re very quick to rush to Porter’s defense, Ms. Sebastian. Maybe you didn’t have to call him over here at all.”

  Anna frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe,” Mendoza said softy, “He was already here.”

  A subtle change came over Anna. She suddenly looked pretty damn intimidating in her own right. “I really don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  “It’s my business if Porter was here at the time of the break-in.” He returned Anna’s frosty stare. “Are you aware that Emily Winsome believed Porter’s wife was murdered?”

  “Yes. But—”

  Ben saw the exact moment when Mendoza’s subtle inference hit her. She hid her shock well, though, behind her icy facade. “Are you suggesting the break-in has something to do with Katherine’s murder?”

  Mendoza glanced at Ben. “Why don’t we ask Porter what he thinks?”

  Ben shrugged. “You’re the one who determined Katherine’s death was a suicide.”

  “Yes,” Mendoza agreed. “But that’s one case I’ve never quite been able to close the book on.”

  “If you think there was some justification to Emily’s claim, why didn’t you cooperate with her?” Anna demanded. “She said you blew her off every time she tried to talk to you.”

  “Maybe I didn’t want her stumbling into something she couldn’t handle.” Mendoza glanced back at Emily’s room. “But it appears she managed to get herself into trouble anyway.”

  Anna’s gaze met Ben’s, and he wondered if that was doubt he saw flickering in her eyes. Doubt and suspicion. Two emotions Ben knew only too well.

  Mendoza turned to Margarete and Acacia, who’d been hovering on the fringes of the conversation, silent but certainly not disinterested. “Are there any other guests registered in the hotel besides Ms. Sebastian and Ms. Winsome?”

  “Mr. Gump is in the other wing.” Margarete’s disapproving gaze flashed briefly to Anna, as if to let her know she didn’t appreciate having this trouble brought down on her. “But he wasn’t in last night. He’s been out of town for over a week. We had another gentlemen check in late last night. A Mr. Carter. He’s also in the other wing.”

  “Which room?”

  “I put him in 203, but he’s not in. He left early this morning, and I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

  Mendoza turned to Anna. “Where’s your room?”

  Anna pointed across the hall. “I’m in 209.”

  “Directly across from Ms. Winsome’s room.” Mendoza rubbed his chin. “And you didn’t hear anything last night? No unusual noises? Nothing?”

  “I thought I heard someone walking around out in the hallway at one point.”

  “What time was that?”

  “Just after three. I woke up and heard the floorboards creaking outside my room. I thought maybe Emily was just getting in.”

  Ben stared at her in surprise. Why hadn’t she told him about this earlier?

  “You didn’t look out to see if it was her?” Mendoza queried.

  Anna hesitated. Her gaze flashed to Ben’s. “I decided it was just the hotel settling.”

  “Is there any possibility that the intruder may have been looking for your room?” Mendoza asked suddenly.

  Anna stared at him in shock, as if the idea had never occurred to her.

  It hadn’t occurred to Ben, either, until that moment.

  AFTER MENDOZA LEFT, Ben and Anna walked outside and found a shady bench that overlooked the river and sat down. Anna stared at the water for a moment, then sensing Ben’s gaze on her, she turned. He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and the tenderness of the gesture made Anna long for something she’d never had and wasn’t even sure existed.

  “You look tired this morning,” he murmured.

  She couldn’t remember the last time someone other than Laurel had sounded so concerned about her. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “Creaking floorboards kept you awake?”

  Anna glanced away. “Something like that.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you thought you heard someone outside your room last night?”

  “Because I didn’t think it was important. I thought it was just my imagination.”

  “You don’t seem the type to let your imagination run away with you,” Ben said.

  Anna shrugged. “When you’re in a strange town, a strange room…” And you’ve just read a book about a serial killer… “You hear things, see things.”

  “See things? Like what?”

  Anna hesitated. “I thought I saw a shadow out on the balcony last night.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” he demanded.

  “Because I didn’t think it was anything,” she insisted. “Look, I really think the person we need to be worried about right now is Emily. What if Mendoza is right, Ben? What if her disappearance has something to do with Katherine’s murder?”

  He frowned and abruptly turned to scowl at the river.

  “I don’t think you had anything to do with it,” Anna said softly. “I know that was Mendoza’s insinuation, but I don’t believe it.”

  He turned and gave her an enigmatic smile. “Blind faith can get you into a lot of trouble, Anna.”

  So many things in San Miguel could get her in a lot of trouble, she thought worriedly. It seemed to be a town simmering with secrets.

  “Look,” Ben said. “I still have some contacts in the Department of Public Safety. If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll give one of them a call and request that the highway patrol be on the look-out for Emily’s car. Maybe I’ll even take a drive to San Antonio myself, see if I can spot her car along the roadside. It’s possible she could have run into trouble coming back last night.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll go with you.” Anna rose quickly from the bench. “I think we should go right now.”

  Ben stood, too. “Are you sure? You look pretty beat. Why don’t you stay and try to get some rest? I’ll call you if I find out anything.”

  But Anna’s tone was firm. “I wouldn’t be able to rest. Besides, I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

  Something glinted in Ben’s eyes. “Yeah. I kind of got that impression the other night.”

  ANNA STUDIED Ben’s profile as they sped along the highway in his Jeep. He’d been so quiet since they left the hotel, she couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. Was he annoyed that she’d dragged him out on what he probably considered a wild-goose chase?

  But Anna didn’t think that was the reason for his silence. He wasn’t just preoccupied. He seemed worried about something. Was he still concerned about the shadow Anna had seen on the balcony?

  Anna was starting to get a little nervous about that, as well. Ever since Mendoza had suggested the intruder might have been looking for her room, she couldn’t shake the uneasy notion that the shadow on her balcony and the break-in might have something to do with her real reason for being in San Miguel.

  She still didn’t know who was behind the phone calls she’d received in Houston, or what the caller’s intent had been. Someone who’d been close to Katherine and now desired contact with Anna?

  She shivered as her thoughts drifted back to the day Dr. English had been murdered and she had had the ugly confrontation with Hays on the street. He’d called her a freak, a modern-day Franke
nstein. He’d wanted to get under her skin that day, wanted to hurt her the way he perceived she’d hurt him. Was he responsible for the phone calls?

  Ben pulled to the shoulder of the road, and Anna glanced around at the primitive landscape. The river was to their right, but a dense thicket—almost as lush as a mangrove—of trees, palmettos and wild honeysuckle made it all but invisible.

  “Why are we stopping here?”

  “That dirt road we just passed leads down to a boat ramp. I thought I saw a car down there.”

  He reversed several yards along the shoulder, and then putting the Jeep into first gear, pulled onto the dirt road. As they drove out of the dense shade of the woods into a patch of sunlight, Anna saw the river. And she almost immediately spotted Emily’s Volkswagen.

  “That’s it! That’s her car!” She released her seat belt as soon as the Jeep had bumped to a stop.

  Ben got out with her. “Wait a minute,” he said when she started toward the car. He approached the vehicle more cautiously, squatting every so often to examine the road. “I don’t see any other tracks. Doesn’t look like anyone drove down here since Emily’s car was left here.”

  “How long ago was that, do you suppose?”

  He shrugged. “The tracks look pretty fresh. We know they had to have been made after you saw her yesterday.” He walked over to the car and tried the door, then peered in through the window. “Whoever left the car here took the keys and locked the doors.”

  He moved to the front of the vehicle, examined the ground, then kneeling, motioned for Anna to join him.

  “What is it?” she asked, trying to balance on the backs of her heels the way he was. Ben made it look too easy.

  He pointed to the ground. “Footprints leading down to the water. Whoever it was wore athletic shoes, but not a brand I recognize. And by the size of the prints and the depth of the impressions, I’d say they were made by a woman.”

  “Emily was wearing sneakers when she left yesterday,” Anna said. “I know because she dropped me off at the garage just before she left for San Antonio.”