“This marriage is based on trust, Mateo,” Dani said somberly. “It’s a partnership. And I’ll be honest, I don’t feel particularly respected by your behavior. So yes, I’d like an explanation as well.” She felt strange reprimanding him even this much, but Señora Garcia’s punishing gaze seemed to demand it, and Dani was good enough at reading power dynamics to know who was really in charge here. Clearly, Señor Garcia didn’t keep his Primera in the dark.
“Mateo insists he wasn’t with a woman,” Señor Garcia said. “He was just about to explain himself.”
“A woman,” Mateo muttered. “Honestly. As if I’d waste my time on another—”
“Careful there,” said Carmen, her eyes narrowing further still.
“Of course,” Mateo said, seeming to remember his audience and rubbing the back of his neck repentantly. “I only meant to say I have far too much respect for you both to ever commit infidelity. It was a far different errand that kept me away from home last night.”
Here it is, Dani thought. The confession he’d been about to make. The reason he was being interrogated. She could almost feel Alex and Sota standing on either side of her, waiting for proof of what they’d always believed about Mateo.
“You expect us to believe that?” Carmen asked, her eyes flashing dangerously. “I knew I didn’t like the way you talked about that Mama Rodriguez, and you should be ashamed of yourself, Mateo, she’s twice your age!”
Dani almost giggled. She wondered if it would be rude to send for snacks—this kind of entertainment almost demanded it.
“For Sun’s sake, Carmen, calm down!” Mateo exclaimed. “This has nothing to do with Mama Rodriguez!”
“Well then, what?” she asked, her glare becoming a pout. “What else could possibly keep you away from home for a whole night, mi amor?”
Dani’s face was impassive as ever, but hearing Carmen address Mateo in such an intimate way had her seething again. If Carmen was going to call anyone mi amor . . . Dani thought, but she didn’t dare finish the sentence, even in her head. Not in this company.
“If everyone could just calm down,” said Señor Garcia, shooting Carmen a look that raised Dani’s hackles. There was something of Mateo’s imposing nature in him. That feeling that he might come too close just to prove he could.
Mateo took a deep breath, facing his family with the news he’d confessed to his father alone just moments ago. “I spent the night being interrogated by the military police.”
The silence returned, but this time it was tense. Mateo and his father glanced at each other, communicating something the rest of them weren’t privy to. Dani memorized every moment. Every word. Every raised eyebrow. Every darting glance toward the door. It was the first time she’d ever felt like a spy first and a Primera second.
“One of the sympathizers I arrested, Jasmín Flores, is missing,” Mateo continued at last.
“Who?” Señor Garcia asked, and Dani watched him in the moment afterward. Either he was a very, very good liar, or he had no idea who Jasmín was.
“That’s the thing,” Mateo said. “I arrested her at the Soto Primera salon and took her to the prison transport myself, but apparently she wasn’t ever checked in. There’s no record of her ever being dropped off.”
“And what do they think you have to do with it?” Señora Garcia asked.
“I was the last person to have her in custody,” Mateo admitted, grimacing in frustration. “They think I was involved in her disappearance.” He paused. “Or . . . that Father was.” Señor Garcia’s eyes darted swiftly to his son, and even the señora’s jaw dropped. But Mateo wasn’t as good a liar as his father. He was performing. She could see it in the strain around his eyes, the stiffness of his shoulders. He was hiding something—she would have bet her brand-new citizenship papers on it. But what was it?
“What did you say?” asked Señor Garcia, more accusation than question. Dani tried not to look like she was reading his face when he hesitated. Señor Garcia moved closer to his son—taller than him by a few inches, he straightened up, entering Mateo’s space, making him shrink back into himself. “I asked you a question.” His voice was deadly low.
Dani wanted to enjoy the moment Mateo’s own cruelty was turned against him, but there was nothing enjoyable about someone being frightened by a person who had power over them. Mateo had clearly learned from the best.
“I . . . I stalled them,” he said, not daring to step away as his father glared down at him. “I told them I didn’t know anything, and that I’d keep an eye on you to see if you were acting strangely.”
“You insinuated that I had something to do with this mess? When you kno—”
“Alberto.” Señora Garcia’s voice was the quick closing of a curtain. He obeyed her. The room fell silent again. Dani filed this information away for further examination. Mateo would never have let her interrupt him that way. “What did they tell you to do?” Señora Garcia asked now, facing her son. Dani and Carmen might as well have been invisible.
“They want his access to normal contacts limited for the next few days while they investigate, and I’ve been forbidden from notifying him of the suspicion. If they find anything that seems even the slightest bit off, they’re launching a full investigation.”
“Into the department?” Señor Garcia asked sharply.
“Not only the department,” Mateo replied. “The family, too.”
Señora Garcia’s reaction was immediate. Any trace of indecision or curiosity was gone, and in its place was a brisk efficiency Dani recognized as her Primera expertise taking the wheel. But whatever she was planning, she was keeping it to herself for now.
Dani glanced at Carmen, who was already looking at her, and even in the midst of all this, something urgent pulsed through her until she looked away.
“So, do we know who did it?” Carmen asked, her voice airy and vapid. She could get away with this kind of questioning. Segundas weren’t prized for their brains. But Dani knew this question was for her sake, that Carmen was keeping her promise to help her retrieve information.
“No, we do not,” Mateo said, clearly offended, but this time his eyes darted to the left and back, just slightly, and Dani thought the skin at his hairline looked damp despite the morning breeze coming in through the window.
The frayed edges of him were starting to show again, that cool composure crumbling in the presence of the man who had taught him to be cruel. Dani focused harder. This was when he always gave away the most valuable information.
“This is probably some trick on their part!” he said, gesturing too widely. “Those animals! They’re trying to turn us against one another, and of course those crackpots in the government—”
“Mateo, that’s quite enough,” said Señora Garcia, coming out of her trance to cut off her son’s rambling. His father, lost in thought, nodded in agreement.
Dani hadn’t been a spy for long, but she had been a Primera student for five years and a fugitive from the law, relying on her wits alone, for a lifetime. Right now, all three versions of her would have bet almost anything that Mateo was lying. If he wasn’t responsible for Jasmín’s disappearance, he certainly knew who was.
But what did Señor and Señora Garcia know? Would they lie to protect their son?
“Well, I think we can agree that we’d like to avoid an investigation, hmm?” asked Señora Garcia. “Especially if we’re all still interested in Mateo’s trajectory toward the presidency.”
“Of course we are,” snapped Alberto Garcia. “But how do we avoid it?”
They tossed ideas back and forth, using family shorthand and the quick speech of people well accustomed to sharing thoughts. They ruled out asking the president to intervene and issue a pardon, then launching their own investigation to find who was responsible, and several other ideas that were cast off as quickly as they were suggested.
Somehow, they had this entire conversation without implying guilt or innocence. Dani couldn’t help but be impressed. This w
as the way a family was supposed to function—Primera and husband working together, respecting each other. Dani had never seen it in action.
“My dear,” said Señora Garcia as her son locked his jaw at the condescension. “If there’s even a hint of an investigation, you go from being the poster child for law and order to being a criminal yourself before you’re ever in charge of so much as a teapot. There’s not a lot of room for error.”
“So what would you have me do, Mother?” Mateo asked. “If you’re so smart.”
It was a testament to Señora Garcia’s restraint that she didn’t slap him. Dani wanted to, and she didn’t even particularly like his mother.
Señor Garcia had no such restraint. He was back in Mateo’s space again, his face mere inches from his son’s. “You will not disrespect your mother in my presence. You got us—”
“What we’ll do,” Señora Garcia interrupted, speaking in precise, metallic words, “is go to the hillside vacation house for the weekend. Mateo, you will be fulfilling your promise to the police to get your father out of the way and keep an eye on him, and we’ll have some time and space away to plan our next move discreetly.”
Dani had to hand it to her, even if she knew Señora Garcia was keeping the details of what they’d discuss at the vacation house close to the vest. It was a good plan. Even the men didn’t have a contrary word to say about it.
“Managing gossip will be the most important thing,” she continued. “And the best way to do that is to go alone. Just the three of us. José and one of the kitchen girls will remain on-site if the girls need anything, but the rest of the house staff will be dismissed until our return.”
Dani couldn’t help but notice that she and Carmen had not been asked to attend, nor had they been asked for their opinions on the subject. Was this a normal omission? Dani had just seen the way a Primera and a husband were supposed to work together—was the entire family behind Mateo’s decision to shut Dani out? Was there more than deception at play here?
Most importantly, did it have anything to do with Mama Garcia’s mysterious letter?
“When do we leave?” Mateo asked, conceding at last.
Señora Garcia allowed herself the smallest satisfied smirk at having successfully wrangled her son. “Two hours ago.”
“I need to pack,” Mateo said, standing abruptly, leaving the room without another word, Señora Garcia on his heels.
Señor Garcia stayed behind, looking between Dani and Carmen with appraising eyes, and Dani hoped her blank expression said I’ve just discovered unknown political intrigue in my new family and not I’m a spy trying not to forget a word until I can speak to my handler.
“It would be such a pity,” he said mildly, “if we were to discover someone close to us was responsible for leaking this regrettably false information to the military. Wouldn’t it?” It was a simple statement, but the words were weighted, and something in those dark eyes told Dani it wouldn’t be wise to answer.
He passed close to them as he walked out, the smell of him overpowering. Something dark. Smoke with an edge of flame. Like the liquor Mateo had poured Dani in his study that night. When he was gone, the hairs stood up along her arms.
But then Dani realized: she and Carmen were alone. And after their kiss the night before, not even Mateo’s terrifying father could stop the air from turning electric between them. Dani tried to train her eyes not to drift to Carmen’s lips, to her shoulders, emerging from her blue-green dress like the sun from the sea. But it was hopeless.
That image stayed with her long after she and Carmen had parted, with polite, casual goodbyes that did nothing to sate Dani’s craving to be close to her. In her office, correspondence had piled up, awaiting responses that felt false on the tip of her pen.
Regretfully, we will not be able to attend. I have a previous engagement with my husband’s Segunda. Señor Mateo will also be indisposed, in an unmissable appointment with a dark interrogation room. Sincerely, Señora Daniela Garcia.
It wasn’t funny, but she laughed anyway. Why not? There was no one to hear her.
When it was finally time to see off the moral center of Medio, Dani returned to the front room, held up by tension alone, some of which she siphoned off as she shook Mateo’s hand so hard he winced. “Best of luck, señor,” she said.
“An innocent man doesn’t need luck,” he replied curtly, before turning without warning to kiss Carmen full on the lips. It was a longer kiss than he should have been allowed, especially when they weren’t alone. The way Carmen stiffened slightly in his arms told her this was a surprise to her as well, and Dani’s fear of what would happen next was lost in the rush of blood to her head.
Her hands shook of their own volition. She closed her eyes against the tide of images that rushed at her. The places a kiss like this could lead. The places they would necessarily lead, if Dani was still here when it was time for them to produce a child. But would Mateo really wait that long? From the theatrics happening in front of her, she was inclined to doubt it.
Dani felt as though something inside her might come apart, or that she’d be sick. She almost hoped for the latter, that she’d splatter her husband’s traveling suit and the shoes that probably cost as much as her parents spent on food in a year. But the wave passed, leaving nothing but fury in its wake.
She hoped the police couldn’t prove a thing. She wanted to destroy him herself.
“Be good,” he said when he’d released Carmen, then at last he was gone.
“I hope I don’t need to remind you of the duty you both owe to this family,” said Señora Garcia when the door closed behind her son and his father. “Because I certainly won’t forget it. And if you do, you won’t like what happens next.”
Was it Dani’s imagination, or did the señora’s eyes linger a little too long on her own before flicking to Carmen? They were gone before she could decide, in any case, leaving Carmen and Dani alone again.
“Hi,” Carmen said, her face soft in the fading afternoon light coming through the window. She still looked shaken by Mateo’s kiss, and Dani tried not to show how much it had bothered her. It was probably bad enough for Carmen without making her responsible for Dani’s feelings, too.
“Hi,” she said instead, taking a step closer.
“Señora? Mistress?” came a timid voice from behind them, and Dani wanted to shake whoever it belonged to for interrupting. But it was Mia, who would remain on-site with José during Mateo’s absence. “So sorry to interrupt, but will you both be wanting dinner?”
Dani counted backward from five in her head, so her voice would be even when she turned. “Of course, Mia,” she said. “Thank you.”
When she led the way into the dining room, Carmen brushed her hand against Dani’s and pouted.
In the dining room, dinner was served with its usual fanfare. A course of fruit and cheese, crisp vegetables and citrusy dipping sauces. Dani tried to focus on her plate, but the sight of Carmen eating was supremely distracting.
Mia checked in too often, and by the time the second course was brought out, Dani had abandoned her attempts to continue with her meal, focusing on keeping her composure instead as Carmen smirked.
But the meal stretched out, sangria and then tea being refilled often as Dani and Carmen struggled to find a conversation topic appropriate to be overheard. When they eventually lapsed into silence, allowing glances and smiles to speak for them, Dani’s mind began to drift.
After the meal, José would return to the staff quarters, Mia to her rooms off the kitchen. The house would be all but empty. Normally, her thoughts would have been on Carmen, and on the space between their bedroom doors, but something darker had snaked its way in.
For whatever reason, Mama Garcia still hadn’t acted on the suspicions she’d expressed in her secret letter. It seemed the Segunda was biding her time, letting Dani feel almost safe. But of course, she wasn’t safe.
And wouldn’t tonight, with the house empty and few witnesses, be the perfe
ct night to strike? Carmen cleared her throat to get her attention across the table, but Dani’s mind was suddenly a million miles away, the buzzing in her veins growing louder with every breath.
“Dani, are you okay?”
“Just thinking . . . ,” Dani said, coming up against her natural hesitance to reveal too much. Trailing off. Wondering if she’d ever get used to having someone to trust.
“About the letter?” Carmen asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dani nodded.
“Me too,” Carmen said. “Do you want . . .”
But Mia ducked back in just then, and Carmen fell silent. “Are you both finished?” she asked. “Señ . . . The other señora said you might retire early after such a long day. I’m happy to clear the plates now if you’d like me to.”
The plates had been picked over and discarded; the drink glasses stood empty. There was no reason whatsoever for them to linger. Not one they could admit to, anyway. Dani got reluctantly to her feet. “Yes, thank you, Mia, how thoughtful.” She thought her voice had an edge, but Mia didn’t seem to notice.
“Yes, of course,” Carmen said. “It has been a long day.”
The dining room’s kitchen entrance led to the south of the house, where Carmen’s rooms were located, while the double doors led to Dani’s on the north side. There was also no reason for them to leave together, and Mia, ever the dutiful server, waited beside the door with her arms folded, her eyes lowered but still watching.
“Well, good night, Primera,” Carmen said.
“Good night,” Dani replied, not daring to look at her, her mouth lingering too long over the word.
The hallway seemed dark, empty, the house too quiet with everyone gone. Dani tried to think of some pretense that would take her to Carmen’s side of the house, but even she walked back to her room alone instead, every step weighted by her desire to turn around.
Once she reached it, Dani paced, feeling exposed and restless. On the one hand, she now had information much more valuable than the dimensions of the Garcia house to pass along to La Voz, but on the other, suspicions would be heightened now that Mateo and his father were being watched.
We Set the Dark on Fire Page 22
