“Sure. I’ll be here. But...”
After a short, uncomfortable pause, Edward said, “What is it, A.J.? Do you want to talk to me about something?”
A.J. wiped his brow with a rag from his pocket. “I was just wondering what’s going to become of this business, the house, the boats? This place is kind of iconic, you know, a Keys tradition, and well, for a while now, I’ve sort of been a part of it all.”
A.J. had hinted before that he was concerned about the future and that was understandable. He’d been working here for over a year. As far as Edward knew, the judge had been happy with his performance. A.J. deserved answers, and Edward wished he had them.
Edward rubbed his nape. “The truth is, A.J., I’m still thinking about what I’m going to do with the property. I’m talking to a Realtor on Friday...”
“You’re going to sell the place? The marina, too?”
“I might. You know that my job’s in Miami. I only came down here to see my father. I’m not much into the sport-fishing thing.”
“Seems like a shame to me,” A.J. said. “This was your father’s dream for retirement.”
“Yeah, I know. Every decision I make lately seems to come with a boatload of guilt or regret.”
A.J. seemed uncomfortable. He switched his weight from one foot to the other. “Just so you know, I’d be happy to stay on until you decide. Might have to hire a helper. And I’d probably want more money to keep this place running. I’d deserve it.”
Edward kept a knowing smile from creeping onto his lips. So this was the purpose of the discussion. Giving A.J. managerial power and more money. He couldn’t blame the guy. After all, A.J. was looking at having to move on when the property sold, and he was still a young man. But he could find another job. There were opportunities for single guys with no attachments like A.J. all over the Keys.
“I’ll think it over,” Edward said. “Like I told you, I’m considering options at this point. Nothing has been decided.” Except that I’m going back to Miami this coming weekend. And I can’t keep worrying about this place day and night.
But why not? Won’t I be thinking about Monica and Emilio?
Edward said good-night to A.J. and went back inside the house. Yes, maybe it was time to make a complete break from this place, which stirred memories from the past, and, recently, hopes for a future. Bottom line, Edward’s life wasn’t here in the Keys. He’d said that often enough.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ON TUESDAY AFTERNOON, Monica arrived back at the station from a thankfully routine day on patrol. She’d then spent very little time in her office—time she’d expected to use to tie up loose ends from Edward’s case. She needed to fill out a final report and send the paperwork to her boss. This was not a task she wanted to do.
Realistically she knew there were no other leads with respect to the judge’s death, but she felt terrible about how she’d left Edward the day before. She felt as if she’d betrayed him. She tried to banish those thoughts from her head. She was a professional first. She’d worked hard to get where she was and she couldn’t defy a direct order.
But she’d met a man, a wonderful man with principles and a humble gratitude for what life had given him. And he was a man who was suffering from a loss he couldn’t understand.
Monica stood outside her inviting home. The people inside meant everything to her...until Edward. Now he’d become almost as important to her as Rosa and Emilio were. But her responsibilities were tied to her family, not a man who’d invaded her senses with his kisses, his kindness, his ability to feel the same hurt she’d experienced when her own father had died.
Her father... Juan Cortez. Everything she’d done ever since he died five years ago had been to live up to the promise she’d made him. Her job with the sheriff’s department allowed her to do this, to keep her family safe and happy. She couldn’t jeopardize what they had in this home, certainly not when she believed the department was right about how William Smith had died.
She opened the screen door and was immediately aware of the strong scent of roasting chicken and black beans. She took a deep breath of the Cuban spices. The traditional aromatic flavors would scent the house until another dish was prepared.
“Tía ’Nica.” Emilio raced from his bedroom.
“Hello, chico,” she said. “How was your day?”
“It was okay, but not as good as Sunday. Can I see Edward again, puhleeze? He promised to take me in the Gulf soon.” He breathed through his mouth, demonstrating the snorkeling skills he had learned. “See how good I am at breathing?”
Monica smiled at him. “I’m sure you are, Emi, but Edward is busy right now. He’s sorting through his father’s stuff and preparing to send some of it to a charity. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes, but his father died, right? Isn’t he sad doing that? I can make him happy again. We had fun.”
Monica sat on the sofa and pulled Emilio onto her lap. “I know. And Edward had fun, too. I’m sure he wishes he could be with you now, but it’s just not possible. He has grown-up work to do.”
Emilio’s pout was replaced with a giggle when Monica ruffled his hair and tickled his ribs. “Maybe this weekend I can take you to the beach, and we can try what you and Edward did. Would that be okay with you, chico?”
Emilio jumped down. “And Edward can come, too. Weekends are for fun, okay?”
Rosa stood in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. “Everything okay, ’Nica?” she asked.
“Sure, Mama. Everything is fine.”
Emilio ran to the front door. “Can I go outside? Ricardo is in the yard.”
“Yes, Emi,” Monica said. “But don’t leave the yard. It’s almost dinnertime.”
He ran to join his friend, and Rosa came into the room.
“Something is wrong, Monica. I can feel it. I can see it in your eyes.” She sat next to Monica on the sofa. “Did something happen between you and Edward? I know you went to see him yesterday. Did you have a squabble?”
“No, Mama.”
Rosa covered Monica’s hand with her long fingers. “You know, chica, I always thought you would marry a nice Cuban boy with a good job and good family. But you have not found such a man, and I feared you would be unhappy—”
Monica started to interrupt, to tell her mother that her happiness was not dependent upon finding a “nice Cuban boy.”
“Let me finish. I have since come to believe that Edward could be the one to walk into the future with you. He is an honorable man, ’Nica. He is courteous and respectful, everything I would want for you.” She grinned. “And I am sure your father would approve.” She made the sign of the cross on her chest. “Something I never thought would happen. I always believed that Juan would never approve of a match for his baby girl.”
Monica considered her mother’s words. “Courteous and respectful.” And handsome and smart and comforting. A man whose kisses lingered on the mouth and whose embraces felt as if they borrowed the warmth of the sun.
“Mama, you shouldn’t think so far into the future,” she said. “We don’t know what will happen from one day to the next.”
“You are right, chica. And this is your business, not mine. But sometimes a word from your wise mama can make you think about things in a different way.”
Monica chuckled. “That’s true, Mama.”
Rosa’s face grew serious. “There is something I must tell you, ’Nica.”
Monica’s senses went on alert. “What is it, Mama?”
“Miguel called today.”
Monica had to tell herself to breathe. She looked around the room, forgetting for the moment where she’d last seen Emilio. “Where is Emi?”
“He’s outside, ’Nica, playing with Ricardo from next door. I can see them through the window. Don’t be nervous. I said Miguel called. He’s not here.”
/> “But Mama, after what happened—”
“I know, but Miguel is in Miami. That was the first question I asked him.”
“Why did he call?” Monica didn’t want to point out that her brother never called his mother.
“I think he might be in trouble.”
“Mama, you know that I can’t have anything to do with Miguel’s troubles. I’m a cop. I don’t even want to hear about them.”
“I know, and I told him that. I told him that you were so angry when he took Emilio without asking. And I told him that I was angry, too.”
“So what was the purpose of his call?”
“He wants to come home, chica. He sounded afraid and worried.”
“No, Mama. I won’t discuss it.”
“I told him you would not want him here. He asked me to find him a room to stay in. He said he would not live in the house if you did not want him.”
Monica could hardly believe her brother’s gall in asking for Rosa’s help. “It would be better if Miguel wasn’t even in the same town as us, Mama. He can’t be trusted with Emi.” She took a deep breath. “Do you know how frightened Emi was when Miguel left him in a strange place? I have had to reassure Emi that that will never happen again.”
“Yes, I’m aware that you have been extra sensitive to Emilio. But he wasn’t hurt.”
“Mama, he could have been!”
“But he wasn’t.” Rosa wiped a tear from her cheek. “I know you love Emilio. But you must realize that Miguel is my son, and I love him. It is a mother’s love, a deep, unconditional love that does not go away, just like your love for Emilio will never fade.”
Monica was silent, letting her thoughts form into words—words that would not hurt her mother. “Your heart is big, Mama. It’s big enough to still have room for Miguel. But I don’t want him anywhere near us. You have to promise me that you won’t encourage him to come to Sweet Pine Key.”
Rosa sobbed, but did not speak.
“Mama, please, promise me.”
Slowly, Rosa nodded. “I promise. I know you are doing your best for Emilio and me. I know you gave your father your word. You are protecting Emilio. But I believe in my heart that Miguel is in trouble. I fear that someone will hurt him, and I can’t bear to think of that.”
Monica loved her mother, but sometimes she became so exasperated with her, like when she allowed her emotions to get in the way of common sense.
“Miguel is a man now, Mama. He makes his own choices, and often those choices are bad ones. But we can’t correct his mistakes or magically make him into a better man. He must do that on his own, and he must convince us that he has changed. So far, he hasn’t done that.
“You were right when you said I love Emi with all my heart. You and I have raised him since he was an infant, and I will fight with all I have to keep Miguel away from him. To keep him safe and give him a good place to grow and learn.”
Monica gulped a lungful of air. She could not go on and she buried her face in her hands. Rosa put her arms around Monica’s shoulders. “I am sorry, chica, to have brought such distress to you. I am sorry I told you that Miguel called.”
Monica looked up. “No, Mama, you were right to tell me. I can only protect Emi when I know what we’re up against. It hurts you when I talk about Miguel as if he were our enemy, but right now, Mama, that’s the way it is.”
Rosa stroked her hand down Monica’s hair. “I understand. We are a family, ’Nica, and we will stick together. If Miguel calls again, I will tell him he is not welcome anywhere near Sweet Pine Key.”
Monica rested her head on Rosa’s shoulder. “Thank you, Mama.”
* * *
AMONG HIS MANY TREASURES, William Smith had an extensive book collection. On Wednesday morning, Edward grappled with the serious problem of what to do with the numerous volumes that lined wall-to-wall shelves in his father’s library. He called the local library, mentioned some of the editions and discovered that even the library didn’t want free donations of the books the judge owned. Many of the volumes were thick law books dealing with subjects that were no longer relevant, especially to the population that lived in Sweet Pine.
Edward’s time in the Keys was drawing to a close, and the problem of the books was just another situation he would have to deal with in the next few days. He didn’t have an answer for the books any more than he had an answer for repairing his relationship with Monica. Getting rid of a few hundred old books seemed like a cinch in comparison to his more personal dilemma.
He was boxing up a few novels when he heard a vehicle in the parking lot. Hoping it would be Monica, he went to the window and looked out. No. Monica did not drive an old pickup truck with dents in the side and faded paint.
His curiosity aroused, he waited until the passenger door opened and a middle-aged woman stepped down. Not just any woman—Rosa Cortez. She spoke to the driver of the truck, who shut down the noisy engine and proceeded toward the house.
Edward met her on the porch. “Rosa, nice to see you.” He took her hand to help her up the stairs. “What brings you out here? Is everyone okay at home?”
“Yes, Edward. Everyone is fine. Monica is working. Emilio is with his uncle Horatio at the butcher shop. I asked my sister, Lucy, to bring me here.”
Of course. Rosa didn’t drive. Edward imagined her mission must be serious for her to have asked for a drive. “Please sit, Rosa. Can I get you a cold drink?”
“No, Edward. I will just be a minute. I need to ask a favor of you.”
“Anything, Rosa.”
“Monica tells me you work with the police in Miami.?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I want to talk to you about my son, Miguel. I know you spoke with him so you could decide if he might have murdered your father.”
“I did, yes. And I decided that in my opinion, Miguel didn’t have anything to do with my father’s death.” Edward hoped this was all Rosa wanted to discuss today. He hadn’t changed his mind despite the fact that Miguel had taken Emilio without informing Monica.
“I know, and I’m grateful you came to that conclusion,” Rosa said, “but now I fear you should talk to him again.”
What? Rosa actually thought her son could have killed his father? Edward didn’t know what to say.
“You and my daughter seem to have had a falling-out,” Rosa continued. “I don’t know what it is about, and Monica won’t tell me.”
Edward shook his head. He didn’t want to discuss his relationship with Monica. “Rosa, any problems Monica and I are having have nothing to do with Miguel.”
“I believe you, but that is not why I’ve come today.” She paused to take a deep breath. “I think my son is in trouble—serious trouble.”
“Why do you believe that?”
“He called me yesterday and seemed to be reaching out for my help. I probably would help him, but I can’t betray my daughter. She wants nothing to do with him.”
“Miguel caused her a lot of grief, Rosa.”
“I know, but he is still my son.” She went on to tell Edward about the phone call, the desperation in Miguel’s voice, his plea to come back to Sweet Pine almost as if he needed to hide out in some obscure place.
Edward listened to the story, to the concern and fear in Rosa’s retelling of events. Like Rosa, he would never betray Monica, so he didn’t know what he could do to help Miguel.
“What exactly do you want me to do, Rosa?” he asked when she’d finished.
“I want you to talk to him again, this time about what is going on with him. You live in Miami. Miguel lives in Miami. You can ask him to come to your office or you can visit him where he works, correct?”
Yes, that was true, but he and Miguel had not established any sort of trust between them. Miguel was aware from the start that Edward suspected him of murder. “I don’t know what I can
accomplish with Miguel,” Edward said. “He probably wouldn’t open up to me about what’s going on in his life.”
“But you can try,” Rosa insisted. “I don’t have anyone else to turn to. You at least can determine if he is in some kind of trouble.”
Edward stated the bold truth to Rosa. “Miguel was in jail for a time, remember? It isn’t impossible to believe that he’s in trouble again. Maybe he’s trying to escape the law. If so, I can’t help him to do that.”
“It’s not that,” Rosa said. “If he was afraid of being caught, he would simply run. He’s done it before. This time it’s as if he’s trying to save his life from harm, not from jail.” Her voice grew more desperate. “Someone is going to kill him, Edward. I just know it! I would much rather he was in jail than in a grave.”
Edward could find no reason to doubt Rosa’s plea. He knew her well enough to believe she would do anything to protect her family. What she requested was entirely possible for Edward to do for her. He could try contacting Miguel and ask him to meet in Miami to talk. He’d done it countless times before with other people who were in trouble. Miguel could agree or not, but Edward had to try. First, he’d need more information.
“Sit down, Rosa, please. I’m going inside to get a pen and my notebook. I need to know more about your son.” Edward needed to know where Miguel worked, where he lived, who his friends were. It was likely that Rosa didn’t know everything about his life, but anything would help. Besides, since Miguel had been on parole for a time, there would be a paper trail of his addresses at the police department.
Obviously convinced that Edward would help her, Rosa slumped into a chair with what looked like relief. She clasped Edward’s hand. “Thank you, Edward. You’re a good man.”
“I’m not promising I can do anything,” he said. “But I will promise to try.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ON FRIDAY MORNING Edward called his supervisor and reaffirmed that he would be back to work on Monday. Actually, Edward planned to be in Miami tomorrow. He needed time to tie up loose ends, contact some folks he hadn’t seen in a while and think about Monica. Mostly, think about Monica. He hadn’t heard from her since Monday, when they’d argued, or sort of argued. Edward wasn’t sure if they had argued or merely disagreed. At any rate, their relationship had changed, and he didn’t think they would put it right anytime soon.
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