Legacy of the Highlands

by Harriet Schultz

  “You guessed right. He wanted to tell me he was sorry for what he’d done, that he knew it was wrong, but did it anyway. He hoped that he and I would have gotten past this while he still lived. He said I’m the brother he always wished for, but he knew I didn’t feel the same about him because that meant we shared John Cameron as a father. The dickhead also included a copy of the DNA test as proof of what he’d told me.” He spoke with the same deadly calm he’d used when they’d questioned John about Will’s murder.

  “And?” She knew the man beside her well enough to recognize that there had to be more.

  “He asked me to take care of you.”

  “Oh?” The smugness she would have expected to see on his face was absent and hers flushed with the memory of how well Diego had taken care of her needs the night before. She wondered if Will would have made that same request if he’d known what he’d green-lighted.

  “Anything else? Nothing you’ve told me so far would have made you look like you’re ready to kill someone, or at least I don’t think so.”

  Until that moment, his gaze had been fixed on the letter that he still held in his fist. He laid it on his thigh and smoothed the crumpled paper with one hand as he reached for Alex’s with the other. “I don’t know how to tell you this.” He paused to glance at the letter again. She didn’t say anything, but raised her eyebrows expectantly to encourage him to continue once he looked up. “Will decided to leave these letters with David because he was sure someone was stalking him. He said that if he died suddenly, he wanted someone to know it wasn’t an accident and that he’d trust me to get the bastards if the police didn’t.”

  “So he knew,” she said almost to herself. “He had a premonition. Why didn’t he go to the police? Or tell me? Why would he keep this to himself? Why, Diego, why?”

  “I can’t answer that. No one can. We can only guess that he didn’t think the threat was real and perhaps he didn’t want you to worry. Yet it troubled him enough to write these letters, so…” He lowered his head, ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Stupid bastard.”

  Diego irritably glanced at the caller ID when his phone vibrated. “It’s my father. I have to take this,” then he lapsed into rapid Spanish. The Castellano dialect he spoke made it difficult for her to follow the brief conversation, but it was obvious that Diego wasn’t happy when the call ended.

  “This couldn’t happen at a worse time. We should be on our way to Scotland, but I have to go to Argentina for a few days. There was some screw up with the Abu Dhabi contracts and my father ordered me home to fix it. He’s the only person who can still tell me what to do,” he said with a shrug and extended a hand toward her. “Come with me?”

  She was reeling from the discovery of yet another secret Will had kept from her. She glanced at Diego, but couldn’t answer him. Everything was suddenly too complicated. She needed to be alone to figure things out.

  “Well? Are you coming or not?” he asked impatiently, his hand still reaching for hers.

  “To Argentina? No, I can’t. I’m sorry Diego.”

  His body stiffened as if she’d punched him in the gut.

  “Diego, wait! Let me explain!” she pleaded, but he was already halfway out the door. He almost knocked David down as he sprinted toward the elevator.

  “Can you tell me what’s going on?” David asked as he stepped into his office.

  “Not now. I’ve got to talk to Diego…to explain. I’ll fill Francie in and she can tell you. I’ve got to go,” she yelled over her shoulder as she ran out of his office, but by the time she reached the street Diego had already vanished.

  Chapter 23

  “Shit! Goddamn it to hell,” Alex muttered and stamped her foot in frustration as she stood outside David’s office building. Diego hadn’t just disappeared without giving her a chance to explain why she couldn’t fly off to Argentina with him, but he wasn’t answering his cell phone. That he was bouncing her calls to voicemail added fury to her frustration.

  She flagged down a cab and gave the driver Francie’s address. When her friend opened the door to her hi-rise apartment, Alex was sufficiently calm to gape in awe at the wisps of silk, satin and lace that covered every surface of the living room. “You have enough underwear here to outfit a high class call girl ring,” she said with a grin and felt her mood lift.

  “True, but I don’t think my husband the lawyer would be thrilled if I ran a brothel. Take a look.”

  Francesca Sandburg’s love for fashion began when she’d outfitted her first doll. As an adult, she’d turned her passion into a lucrative business and clothed a loyal following of entrepreneurs, minor celebrities and creative types who were too busy to shop for themselves, but valued and could afford her quirky, yet impeccable, taste.

  Alex zeroed in on a dove gray silk camisole accented by cream-color lace and silk ribbons that tied into bows at each side of the matching bikini panties. One tug on that ribbon and...she wasn’t surprised when the fingers untying the ribbon in her little fantasy belonged to Diego. The daydream came to an abrupt halt when she spotted the price on the ensemble’s Prada tag. “Oh my God Francie! Fifteen hundred dollars for underwear? Who wears this stuff?”

  “People with scads of money, of course. The pieces you’re salivating over are trimmed with antique lace and sewn by hand,” she said with a shrug. “One of my best clients is getting married next month and asked me to find fabulous lingerie for her honeymoon. She’s coming over this evening to choose what she likes and price is the last thing she’s concerned with.”

  “Must be nice. I’m so happy that business is good, but I need some advice. The last twenty-four hours have been totally insane and I feel like I’m being tossed around inside a tornado that doesn’t want to drop me back to earth.”

  “Wizard of Oz time, huh? You don’t usually go off the deep end about underwear, so I figured when you were ready to talk, you’d let me know. I’ll make us some tea,” Francie said and took Alex’s hand as they walked to the kitchen. “My client’s a workaholic and won’t get here until at least seven, so I’ve got three hours free. Are you meeting Diego for dinner or do you want to eat here with me and David?”

  “Diego’s on his way to Argentina. That’s part of what I have to talk to you about.” Francie raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything as she gathered tea things and two bags of cookies — Oreos for her, chocolate chip for Alex.

  “Okay. Spill it,” Francie said as they settled themselves at the small kitchen table.

  “I’m not sure where to begin.”

  “I’m dying to know why Diego went back to Argentina so suddenly, but start with the meeting the two of you had with Will’s father yesterday and we’ll take it from there.” Francie blew on the hot tea and waited patiently for her friend to stop nervously picking the chocolate chips out of her cookie.

  Alex gazed at her friend. She wanted to blurt out that she’d slept with Diego, but that tale would have to wait until she gave Francie a quick summary of John’s connection to Will’s murder.

  “First of all, John’s a mess, mentally and physically, which isn’t really surprising. It drove us crazy that he just couldn’t seem to focus. At one point he and Diego went at it and I was afraid that John would be beaten to death when he was only halfway through his story, so I made Diego leave.”

  “You what? You made Diego leave? He must have loved that,” said Francie as she bit into another Oreo. “So what did Will’s father say? I’ve been dying to know why he was so desperate to find out where you’d gone after the funeral.”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot that he’d called you. Get this,” Alex leaned in and lowered her voice. It still seemed unreal to her, more like a novel than something that actually happened. “John Cameron told us he’s part of a secret Scottish independence group. He’s their money launderer, for chrissakes, or at least he was.”

  “What!” Francie exclaimed and almost choked on her tea.

  “Can you believe it? But wait, there’s
more. Evidently, this job is a Cameron family tradition, but one he never bothered to tell Will about. Anyway, he found out that this group was getting ready to plant bombs in London and he turned them in to the cops. These nut jobs found out what he did and decided his disloyalty amounted to high treason. But instead of the death penalty for John, they decided to execute Will. They thought that would be worse. They were right,” she whispered, unable to go on.

  Alex’s usually garrulous friend was speechless. Francie opened her mouth a few times, but no words came out. She frowned as she methodically dipped Oreos into her hot tea and quickly jammed them into her mouth before the soggy mess plopped into the teacup.

  “Will was an innocent in all this,” Alex continued. “His only crime was being John Cameron’s son. I hate the people who did this so much that it scares me. I want to tear their hearts out or boil them in oil or something.” She shook her head in an attempt to purge her mind of the various revenge scenarios brewing there.

  “They’ve got to be lunatics,” Francie said as she dipped another cookie into her tea and frowned as she nibbled at it. “Did you tell David? Is that why you were at his office today? What about the police? Shouldn’t you talk to them?”

  “One thing at a time. No, I haven’t told David, but you can do it. Diego and I were at his office for something entirely different. Will had left letters with him for both of us. I’ll tell you about those later. And no, I’m not going to tell the police about this. John would go to jail and he’s already serving a life sentence of indescribable guilt. Besides, the murderer has to be back in Scotland by now. The local police will never have enough evidence to catch him or prove anything.” Alex stood and began to pace.

  “I still don’t understand why John wasn’t the one they killed if it’s him they were mad at,” said Francie. She switched from inhaling cookies to chewing her fingernails.

  Alex sighed. “I’m pretty sure John would have preferred that too. Now he’s afraid that they might want to take out his entire family one by one before they get to him. He sent Anne to her sister’s in San Francisco. I get the idea she was happy to go and it sounds like she’s never going to come back. She despises him, which almost makes the bitch likeable.”

  “You said they might kill all of John’s family. Does that include you?”

  “All I know is he wanted to warn me and now Diego’s appointed himself my personal bodyguard, although he won’t be much help if he’s in Buenos Aires. What really worries me is that these animals think they got rid of the last Cameron. They didn’t.”

  Francie pondered the meaning of that statement for a moment. “They didn’t? What are you saying? Alex! Are you…?” she trailed off and glanced at her friend’s belly.

  “Of course not. You’d be the first to know if I were pregnant.”

  “Then what...?”

  “Will has a brother. Maybe you should get out the ice cream before you hear this.”

  “Screw the ice cream. How could he have a brother? You would have known about it. Was he a twin and the Camerons gave one up for adoption?” She paused in her theorizing just long enough to catch her breath. “When did you find out about this brother of Will’s? Where is he? Come to think of it, who is he? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Chill, Francie, calm down, but brace yourself. Will’s half brother is none other than — are you ready? — Diego Navarro!

  “What? But how…?” Francie sputtered, more stunned by this than the revelation about John’s involvement with terrorists.

  Alex still had trouble believing it herself. “The short version is that Ricardo Navarro screwed Anne Cameron.” Alex began to laugh as Francie pretended to gag.

  “Ewwww, that’s disgusting.” Francie grimaced.

  “Yeah. I prefer not to think about that part of it myself. And, of course, John Cameron slept with Giovanna Navarro, Diego’s mother.”

  “Wait. I’m confused. So Ricardo could be Will’s father? Holy crap.”

  “I wish, but no. Their father is John Cameron. It was all confirmed by a DNA test that my lying sneak of a husband didn’t tell me about. I’m so mad at him Francie. I had to hear it from Diego while we were in Florida.”

  “But how did this finally come out thirty-four years after Will and Diego were born? That’s a long time for something, especially this kind of something, to stay a secret.”

  “It’s a long story so here’s the condensed version. A few years ago Diego found some letters that made it clear that the Navarros and the Camerons screwed around with each other when they were young. He told Will about it and my husband became obsessed with his paternity and had a DNA test done last year. It proved that John was his father. Diego refused to take the test, but Will went ahead and did his too. When he told Diego that the results showed that John was his father too, they had a huge fight. That’s why they stopped having anything to do with each other about a year ago.”

  “And Will never told you about any of this?”

  “No!” Alex’s eyes filled with tears of hurt and frustration. Why couldn’t Will trust her? Why hadn’t he confided in her? She’d never know. The letter he’d left contained an apology, but no explanation to help her understand. “And he kept something else from me too, Fran. In his letter to Diego he said he thought he was being stalked and that if anything happened to him it wasn’t an accident. He asked Diego to find the people who did it if the police don’t.”

  “Wow! I can’t believe he didn’t talk to you about all of this. Did Will seem different those last months?”

  “Not that I noticed, but what does that say about our marriage? I guess it wasn’t as perfect as I thought.” She brought the cup of tea to her lips and hesitated. “That’s not all.”

  “You mean there’s more? No wonder you’re a wreck. Spill it.”

  “I slept with Diego,” she whispered and lowered her eyes.

  “I knew it!” Francie crowed, a self-satisfied grin lighting her face as she started to dance around the compact kitchen. “The chemistry between the two of you is so damn obvious, especially to someone who knows you the way I do. Did it happen in Miami?”

  “No,” Alex whispered. “Last night.”

  “And…”

  “And stop acting like this is a good thing. I feel terrible.”

  “Because…”

  “Because I’m ashamed of myself. I cheated on Will! But I needed…I needed…”

  “Of course you did,” Francie said as she wrapped her arms around Alex. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve only proved that you’re human, that’s all. It’s okay.”

  “Is it? Is it really okay for a woman to sleep with her husband’s best friend? And now it’s even worse because that friend is — what? — my brother-in-law! Oh, God, what am I going to do?”

  “Have a cookie,” said Francie as she shoved the bag toward Alex. “I’ll even share my Oreos.”

  “A cookie can’t solve everything.”

  “Maybe it can’t, but the sugar rush to your brain will help you to think,” Francie rationalized. “So was the sex good? Details, I want details.”

  “Of course it was good. You have Oreo crumbs on your face,” Alex said with the first glimmer of a smile.

  Francie brushed a hand across her mouth without taking her eyes off Alex. “I’ve always wondered…Diego’s a gorgeous man and we know he’s had a lot of experience, so I wondered…well, sometimes a man who looks like him thinks that’s enough, you know, and that he doesn’t have to try really hard...to please a woman, I mean.”

  “Stop it! You’re not getting a play by play from me. But, so you won’t lose any sleep, I’ll assure you that Diego’s looks pale in comparison to his talent as a lover.” Alex’s lips curled into the smile of someone who has a delicious secret.

  “Alexandra,” said Francie accusingly. “If you’re going to smile like that, you’re going to have to tell me everything.”

  “No, I’m not. What I need is your advice on where I go from here. Diego
’s been incredibly generous and kind and patient with me. You know better than anyone how messed up I was when I went to Florida. I began to heal there. Plus, he’s determined to find Will’s killer and I’m sure he can do it.” Her mood darkened and she began to pace. “Remember I told you that I felt like I was caught in a tornado? Now it’s more like a centrifuge and I can’t find the off switch. Too much is happening too fast and I can’t process it. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Hmmm, I’m not sure,” Francie said as she tapped her scarlet fingernails on the table. Then she leaned forward. “The only way to do this is to use logic. So which should we tackle first? John Cameron, spy; Diego Navarro, Will’s brother; or — and this is my favorite — Diego Navarro...lover!” A huge grin spread across her face.

  “You’re right. I need to think rationally. Diego told me that he’d called Serge — you know, the former Mossad spy, now bodyguard and ace investigator — this morning to fill him in about John, but he didn’t have time to tell me if Serge had found out anything since he’s been in Scotland.” Alex massaged her brow in an attempt to soothe the dull throbbing that heralded the start of a major headache. She helped herself to a couple of aspirin from Francie’s kitchen cabinet.

  “Did you and Diego talk about how this changes things between you, you know…after?”

  “Not really. We both fell asleep and then we had an argument at breakfast.”

  “About what?”

  “It wasn’t a big deal, just which one of us would take credit for being the seducer. Maybe it’s stupid, but I didn’t want him to think that I had no part in what happened. I wanted it as much as he did and you know Diego — he’s got this macho thing going on…”

  “And it can be annoying and appealing at the same time, right?”

  “Exactly! He can be exasperating and even a little scary, but that same masculinity and confidence are a big part of the attraction. And when you combine that with tenderness and a good heart, well…it’s hard to resist. And I trust him.” This was the first time Alex analyzed what it was about Diego that drew her to him. “He doesn’t have that little boy charm and playfulness that I loved so much about Will, but they definitely share that manly man thing.” She suddenly had an “aha!” moment. “That’s it! Diego is Will’s brother. Whatever chemical thing they share in their genes…”