"Did you see Liliana the day she disappeared?" Alicia asked.
"Yes. We had brunch, got our nails done, tried on our dresses; it was wonderful. I thought we were going to spend the evening together, too, but Liliana decided to meet up with Michael. She said she hoped I wouldn't mind, but she really needed to see him. How could I say no?" Isabel asked, guilty tears in her eyes. "She was only home for a few days, and I had some of my other friends spending the night with me, so I said go and have fun." She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her napkin. "That's the last thing I said to her."
"It was a nice sentiment," Alicia said with a compassionate smile. "I'm sure she appreciated your support."
"I hope so. I've been a little self-absorbed the past year, caught up in my wedding plans. I feel like Liliana and I drifted apart. When the police started asking me questions about Liliana's life, I realized how little I knew."
"That's only natural. You were in love. And Liliana lived far away."
"I should have stayed in better touch with her, but sometimes our conversations were not that good…"
Alicia frowned at Isabel's odd words. "What do you mean?"
"Liliana and David didn't get along very well. It was awkward between us at times."
Alicia's pulse sped up at that piece of information. "Why didn't they like each other?"
"David said some things about the Navy that rubbed Liliana the wrong way. He's not big on the military. His father was in the Navy. He was injured in a friendly fire incident, and David thought the Navy covered up what really happened. He asked Liliana to look into it, and she did. When she told him that there wasn't any evidence to support his theory, he thought she was covering up, too. I was caught in the middle." Isabel drew in a breath. "I should shut up so you can eat. I don't know why I said all that."
"Because you're worried about your sister."
"I feel like I should have tried to smooth things out between David and Liliana. Maybe then Liliana would have stayed with me that night instead of going off to meet Michael."
"But you weren't with David that night. You said you were with your friends."
"That's true." Isabel sighed. "I don't even know what I'm saying. I'm going to be quiet so you can eat."
"You should eat, too."
"I haven't felt hungry in a long time." Isabel picked at her food. "I was so worried about getting skinny enough for my wedding that I worked out like a maniac. Since Liliana disappeared, I haven't been to the gym, and I've lost ten pounds."
"You need to stay strong for your sister. And this food looks amazing."
"It's good. Ernesto is an excellent chef."
Alicia bit into a delicious piece of steak, whose flavors almost made her swoon. "I can see that," she murmured, spooning some rice into her mouth. "This is delicious."
"Ernesto is like a second father to me, but he and Michael have been at war for as long as I've known them. I hope they're calling a truce. Everyone needs to realize that family is important, no matter our differences."
"Very true." Alicia's gaze drifted across the dining room. Michael had been gone a long time for a man who'd declared he had little to say to his father.
* * *
Michael sat across from his father in the small office next to the kitchen. His dad was rarely in this office. He usually left the business management to Veronica.
Ernesto had always preferred to be at his stove, supervising the other chefs, and focusing on new recipes to try. But today his father had taken a seat in the black leather chair behind his desk.
"What do you want to talk about?" he asked abruptly. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt comfortable in his father's presence, and today was no exception. They did a lot better when there were people around them to act as buffers.
"I'm worried about you, Michael. The police continue to look at you as a suspect."
He shrugged. "I'm used to it."
"Your grandfather called me the other day."
His muscles tightened. Whenever his grandfather and his father spoke, it was never good for him. "About what?"
"You, of course. We have nothing else to discuss," Ernesto said, a bitter edge in his voice.
Michael couldn't completely blame his father for his attitude. William Jansen had never made any pretense of caring about or respecting the man who had married his daughter. He'd always told Michael that his mother had been far too good for Ernesto. Michael had never wanted to take sides, but as his father distanced himself from him, it had been a lot easier to stand on his grandfather's side. It was Will Jansen who had turned his life around, who had put him on the right path, paid for his education, and given him the job he had today. But despite all that, he was not unaware of the fact that his grandfather could be a cold and ruthless man.
"Will said you sent the attorney he hired for you back to New York," his father continued.
"I don't need a lawyer; I didn't do anything wrong." He paused, hating the uncertainty in his father's eyes. If anyone should be able to trust him, it should be his dad. And yet it wasn't. Why was he surprised? Ernesto had so rarely given him what he needed, even if what he needed was just his attention.
"Even so, you should be careful."
"Even so?" he queried. "Does that mean you believe I'm innocent? Because I sure as hell haven't heard those words come out of your mouth."
"Of course I believe you're innocent. You wouldn't have hurt Liliana."
"It's only taken you two months to say that out loud."
"Well, you don't give me a chance to say much of anything," Ernesto retorted. "I've called you several times. Veronica and the girls would like to see you. But you haven't called me back."
"I've been busy. And we both know that you don't really care if I show up or not. Let's be honest. Once you married Veronica, I was out. I get it. You moved on. And you have a great family, but I haven't been part of your family since I was fifteen—hell, since I was eleven."
Tight lines formed around his father's tired eyes. "I made some mistakes. So did you, Michael. Perhaps it's time we let go of the past and start again. You're here in Miami now."
"Only until Christmas. Coming back to Miami was a bad idea. As soon as this job is finished, I'll be returning to New York."
"We still have some time. Why don't you come over to the house one day? Your sisters want to spend time with you, to get to know you better. They don't deserve to be blamed for my sins."
"I don’t blame them." He let out a breath. "I'll try to see them next week, but right now I'm focused on working this new clue."
"What can you do that the police can't?"
"Look for a suspect who isn't me."
"Be careful, Michael. I know you won't believe me, but I do worry about you. I want you to be happy, to be safe. I hope one day you'll forgive me, that we can start again. Is that possible?"
His father was asking him for something he couldn't give—at least not now. "I don't know. We'll see."
Eight
"Everything okay?" Alicia asked when Michael returned to the table. He looked pale and tense.
"Fine," he said shortly, reaching for the nearest platter. "How about you?"
"Good." She wanted to tell him what Isabel had said about the discord between Liliana and David, but she couldn't do that with the Valdez family surrounding them.
"I'm glad you're talking to your father," Dominic said. "He's missed you a great deal over the years."
"His choice," Michael said shortly.
"There are always two sides to a story," Theresa said gently.
"I know both sides."
Michael's words cut off whatever Theresa was going to say next. She exchanged a look with her husband and then reached for the dessert tray.
"Who wants one of these treats?" Theresa asked.
"None for me," Alicia said. "I'm stuffed."
Michael waved on the tray as he quickly cleared his plate. Then he said, "We should get going."
"Before you leave,
" Dominic interrupted. "I wanted to let you know that we're going to hold a special Mass and candlelight vigil tomorrow night at St. Peter's Church at five PM. We've put in some calls to our friends in the press and hopefully we'll get some media coverage on the news. The more people we can reach the better. We need to find anyone who was anywhere near the park yesterday."
"We'd love for you both to come to the vigil," Theresa said.
"I'll see," Michael said.
"I'll try," Alicia said.
"Good." She turned to her daughter. "Isabel, if you speak to Rico, tell him that Michael comes with my blessing."
"I'll talk to him," Isabel said. "But I can't promise he won't be a jerk. He's so angry all the time now."
Theresa nodded. "I can barely get him to talk to me. He seems to blame himself for lending his car to his sister." She let out a sigh. "It's strange," she continued, a sad smile on her lips. "I worried so much about Liliana when she went into the Navy. She had assignments that took her into dangerous countries. I never imagined that coming home would be the most dangerous thing she could do."
"Or coming to my wedding," Isabel said, her voice cracking. "Excuse me." She got to her feet and quickly left the table.
"Oh, dear." Theresa's eyes crinkled with concern. "I didn't mean for Isabel to take it that way."
"She'll be all right." Dominic patted his wife's hand. "We all have guilt."
"But none of you are guilty," Alicia put in. "The only person who's guilty is the person who took Liliana. You were just having a wedding."
"And the wedding should have been Liliana's focus," David said, a harsh note in his voice. He turned his gaze on Michael. "Why she had to run out and see you that night, I will never understand. Couldn't you have met her after the wedding?"
"She pushed to meet me that night," Michael said. "You know that."
"I know it; I don't understand it," David replied.
"Well, join the club," Michael said, irritation in his voice. He put his napkin on the table. "Are you ready to go, Alicia?"
"Yes," she agreed, reaching for her purse. "Let me give you some money—"
"My father won't let anyone here pay," Michael told her.
"He's right," Dominic said. "Ernesto is always very generous."
"I hope someone will tell him thanks for me. It was nice to meet all of you."
"Hopefully we'll see you tomorrow," Theresa said.
She nodded and followed Michael out to the car.
"Are you okay?" she asked as he buckled his seat belt, then gunned the motor.
"You need to stop asking me that," he replied, as he sped out of the parking lot.
"Then don't act like you're not okay." She put her hand on the side of the door as he took a sharp turn. "Michael, if you're not going to slow down, then let me out."
He eased his foot off the gas. "Sorry."
"Do you want to talk about whatever is bothering you?"
"No. I just need a minute." He blew out a breath. "We'll go back to your apartment and regroup. We still have a few hours before we can meet Brad at Javier's."
"All right. That sounds like a plan," she said lightly.
"Does it? It sounds more like another few hours of spinning my wheels in the same deepening rut."
His frustration was understandable. Michael had been stuck in limbo for two months. She'd been involved less than twenty-four hours and felt stymied by the lack of clues. But there had to be a way to break something loose. While she was sure the police detectives had done everything they could do, she was bothered by the fact that they were so zeroed in on Michael. Had the police missed something or someone else because they were fixated on the wrong man?
By the time they got back to her neighborhood, it was after four, and the streets were so crowded with tourists that Michael had to park a couple of blocks away.
"Everyone is out today," she commented as they walked down the crowded street. "Yesterday it was a ghost town with the storm coming. But the tourists came back with the sun."
"It's Florida. What do you expect?"
"True." They paused at an intersection. "What did your father want to speak to you about?"
"He thinks I should come by the house more often and get to know my sisters better."
"Violet seems to like you a great deal."
"She's a good kid. Her sisters are, too. But while we may share a bloodline, we're not family. I left the house when Violet was three years old. And my youngest sister wasn't even born yet. They don't remember me being around."
"They might remember more than you think. Why not get to know them? They didn't treat you badly. They're not responsible for their parents' actions."
"I don't hold them responsible." He gave her a hard look. "Don’t try to fix me and my family. We have a history together that you can't begin to understand."
She thought she understood more than he knew, but she decided not to argue. It was his family, his business, and she should stay out of it.
They crossed the street and walked down the next block in silence. When they reached her building, her landlord Eileen Peterman was just coming out of the gallery.
At fifty-nine, Eileen was a beautiful platinum blonde with a bohemian style of dress, who had never married and loved to travel.
Eileen liked having Alicia upstairs so she could keep an eye on the building while Eileen was off on her many adventures, an arrangement that suited them both well. In fact, in Eileen Peterman, Alicia had not only found an enthusiastic buyer for her photographs, she'd found a mother figure and a kindred spirit, someone who understood her far better than her own mother ever had.
"Alicia," Eileen said with a smile. "I can't wait to see what photographs you took last night. Tell me you did not miss that amazing storm. I just got back from visiting my sister in Charleston, but we saw the news reports. The lightning looked amazing."
"I got some good shots. I'll bring them down tomorrow or Monday."
"I can't wait." Eileen gave Michael a curious smile. "And who's your friend?"
"This is Michael Cordero—my landlord Eileen Peterman. She owns the building and the gallery and is kind enough to sell my photographs."
"They fly off the walls." Eileen's speculative gaze took in every inch of Michael. "It's so nice to meet you, Michael. Are you also a photographer?"
"No, I'm a builder."
"His company is putting up the new city center," Alicia interjected.
"I saw the plans for that. I like the style of the development, the integration of local culture and artists," Eileen said approvingly.
"We try to build in a way that works with the existing landscape but also improves upon it," Michael replied.
"Well, if your designers need any art, I have some wonderful pieces."
Alicia inwardly groaned at Eileen's blatant sales plea but she could hardly complain. If Eileen weren't so good at taking every opportunity she could, Alicia's photographs would not have made her nearly as much money as they had.
"I'll definitely pass on your name," Michael said. "It's not my area, but I'll make sure the designers take a look at what you have to offer."
"Excellent." She looked back at Alicia. "By the way, a reporter stopped by a half hour ago, looking for you. She said you were involved in some missing person case and she would like to speak to you. I have her card inside. Shall I get it for you?"
"No. I don't need to talk to any reporters. Where was she from?"
"ABC News."
"I wonder how she got my address." She was a little dismayed by her lack of privacy, not that she'd ever worried that much about protecting her address. It wasn't as if she had a lot to steal. But now that she might have witnessed something dangerous, she was more concerned.
"She didn't say." A frown moved through Eileen's eyes. "Do I need to be worried about you?"
"I'm fine. I found a military ID tag at the park when I went to shoot the photographs yesterday. It belonged to a missing person. That's all. Hopefully, it will help fi
nd her."
"You always have had a sharp eye, Alicia. Probably not many people would have noticed an ID tag lying about or thought it was important."
She shrugged, not wanting to get into the fight she'd witnessed. "We'll see if it helps bring the woman home. Were you just leaving?"
"Yes, I have a date tonight with a very distinguished gentleman," Eileen said. "Handsome and rich, my favorite combination."
She laughed. "Good for you. I want to hear all about it. I have to live vicariously through you."
Eileen's wicked smile turned to Michael. "I don't know that I believe that anymore. You have such an attractive companion. You two have fun."
As Eileen walked away, Alicia gave Michael an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. She loves to try to find me dates. I'm the single daughter she never had."
"I know what that's like. My assistant is a fifty-six-year-old woman who feels compelled to try to match me up with someone whenever she can, usually the daughter of one of her friends."
She smiled, doubting that Michael had trouble finding dates on his own. "Have you ever let her set you up?"
"Twice, under duress. She wouldn't let up on me, and I knew she was trying to be nice, so I went. One woman wasn't bad, but she was really hung up on her ex-boyfriend. The other was a fanatical conservationist who basically told me building projects were destroying the planet. Needless to say, we didn't have much to talk about."
She laughed as they walked up the stairs to her apartment. "I've had worse dates than that."
"Oh, yeah? Like what?"
"Like the guy who wouldn't stop crying."
Michael gave her a skeptical look. "You're making that up."
"I'm not. He'd just sold his '76 Mustang that he'd apparently inherited from his grandfather, and he was mourning its loss. Everything I said and did reminded him of that car. I mentioned I liked the beach and he broke down in sobs, saying the first time he ever drove that car, he took it to the beach. The smell of salty sea air would stay with him forever."
Beautiful Storm (Lightning Strikes Book 1) Page 8
