Snow Falling

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Snow Falling Page 4

by Jane Gloriana Villanueva


  To his alarm, she glanced away uneasily and if anything, got even more withdrawn. “There’s nothing odd happening. Everything is just as it has been,” she replied and fiddled with some papers on the top of her desk.

  Except for a desk clerk who’d possibly gone missing. “You would tell me truly if there were?”

  Her head snapped up and she met his gaze full on. He hadn’t realized brown eyes could get so chilly.

  “Just as you’d tell me?” she countered. “After all, a husband and wife are supposed to trust each other with everything, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, they are,” he said, perhaps a beat too late.

  For the first time in the two years that Martin had known Josephine, it occurred to him that maybe he didn’t really know her as well as he’d thought.

  Rake spread out the assorted papers his accountant had just brought him, reviewing the numbers in the journals with growing distress. He should have paid more attention to the reports he had been getting the last few years about both the railroad and the hotel. Unfortunately, he’d been too busy recovering from a tropical fever and trying to shut down the other not-so-upstanding businesses that had provided a good deal of the capital for his expansion into the legal businesses.

  “Are you sure that we have no other way to cut our operating costs at the hotel?” Rake pressed while flipping through the pages of the ledger in disgust.

  The accountant shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Solvino. We’ve taken on a great deal of extra staff in order to compete with Mr. Flagler’s Royal Palm and entice those wealthier patrons to choose us instead. It has worked to some extent, but the costs of running some of the areas, like the marina—”

  “The marina stays,” he said curtly. “Please prepare a list of other areas and staff that we can trim by the morning. I’ll review it then and decide what action to take.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Solvino. I’ll have the report for you first thing,” the man said, bowing and scurrying out of Rake’s office to work on his assigned task.

  Rake ran his gaze across the papers again, searching the figures to make his own determinations. His father had always told him that a real leader knew every aspect of his empire down to the lowliest foot soldier. Of course, his father had also told him that he didn’t think Rake had what it took to be a leader.

  So he’d saved the small allowance his father had given him over the years to create the seed fund for his first business, a legitimate fruit import/export company. Unfortunately, after several freezes in upper Florida that had damaged the citrus crops, he’d had to find a way to keep the business going—both for himself and the many employees who depended on him for their livelihoods. It had been an easy thing to start slipping moonshine in with his deliveries to make the extra money. From there he’d expanded into moving contraband rum from Cuba to sell to those who wanted to avoid the government’s hefty liquor taxes. Rake knew his actions were not exactly virtuous, but he’d rationalized it by reminding himself that Mrs. Tuttle had already granted permission to the Royal Palm and the Regal Sol to sell alcohol, so it was only a matter of time before the rest of Miami would likely follow suit. After all, could he help it if the good people of North Miami liked their rum and medicinal tonics? Besides, the smaller establishments he was selling to would make more money and be able to pay their employees more, and, as he’d learned from his father, all was fair in the business world if it made you money.

  When news had come of Flagler’s plan to extend the railroad to the very tip of Florida, Rake knew it was his chance to become a legitimate businessman and guarantee positions for those who had been loyal to him. He had jumped into the venture, using almost all his savings and the income from his less respectable enterprises to build the Regal Sol. He hoped the hotel’s success would once and forever prove that he could make it on his own and one day run the lucrative Solvino business empire. He was his father’s son in more ways than one, which was why they’d earned the distasteful title of robber barons. Rake would never steal from the people, and the government coffers would hardly feel the impact of a few illicit sales.

  Returning to the ledgers, he didn’t need his accountant to tell him that the marina was a huge drain on the monies brought in by the hotel and his share of the railroad profits. While it was expensive to keep the area functional due to the dredging and digging necessitated by the silt and mud that constantly flowed down from the Everglades, he needed the marina to bring in the money to keep the hotel afloat until it could truly stand on its own. With the rail lines closely guarded by Pinkertons, the hotel’s location on the unregulated Miami River provided the only way to support his other operations.

  Of course, business was slow right now since Slayton had disappeared with some of his best booze. Some theft was expected in this kind of operation, but Rake hadn’t thought Slayton would be the type. But laying off staff and trimming other operating expenses could help out the hotel’s bottom line, and Slayton would be the first to go. If he ever turned up again, that is. Closing the books, Rake returned to his desk, lit a cigar, and walked to the wall of windows that overlooked the large park that separated the Regal Sol from the Royal Palm. Dozens of well-heeled patrons strolled through the gardens, enjoying yet another sunny Miami day. Almost as many employees in the blue and white colors of the Regal Sol scurried here and there, busily at work.

  Like the young woman at the concierge desk who had been on his mind ever since their meeting in the kitchen a few days earlier.

  She had been pretty in that untouched, innocent way that normally had him running in the other direction. He had no need of crying, guilt-ridden virgins in his bed, or worse, behind his concierge desk, no matter how appealing their charms.

  Still, he couldn’t help but catalog those charms again now. Intelligent brown eyes had seemed to see right through him, recognizing there was more than what was on the surface. Thick, nearly black hair had been pinned ruthlessly in a bun, but the wildly curling tendrils that had escaped to frame her heart-shaped face and long, elegant neck said that maybe she wasn’t quite so prim and proper.

  Plus, she had courage and spunk. Even though she had been fearful when he’d surprised her in the kitchen, he hadn’t failed to miss how she’d surreptitiously reached for that knife for defense. He suspected that even if he’d had ulterior motives, she wouldn’t have hesitated to use that knife.

  An intriguing young woman, indeed, and maybe that was the sole reason she had taken such hold in his mind. Perhaps she seemed familiar only because he had seen her before at the concierge desk, despite the lingering feeling that he knew her from somewhere else. At least that’s what Rake told himself as he went back to poring over the books, hoping all the while that one particularly intriguing young woman would not be on his accountant’s list in the morning.

  What? Josephine might be fired! Now friends, please consider that our dear Josephine had not only never called in sick in all the years that she had worked at the hotel, but that everyone at the Regal Sol knew that if you ever needed any help or needed the seemingly impossible done, you went to Josephine. Besides, how will we ever see what will happen with the notorious Rake and our spunky and pure Josephine if he fires her?

  Josephine had arrived at the hotel early the next day, fully intending to tell Martin about the strange happenings around the Regal Sol that were weighing on her mind. Martin had left a note in their secret spot last night explaining that while he’d be busy with his investigation for most of the day, he would drop by for a few minutes at the start of her shift.

  But as she went to enter the lobby, she suddenly got cold feet and decided that a stroll through the park nestled between the two hotels was just what she needed. A little extra time would help her figure out what to tell Martin about Rake’s odd nighttime outing and how to inquire if her missing colleague was part of his investigation.

  Of course, if Slayton was the subject of the investigation there was little she could do to help Martin. She knew virtual
ly nothing about the man other than that he had been punctual, efficient, and responsible before a few days ago. Maybe a bit of a loner too. He never talked much to his coworkers, and she never remembered seeing anyone come by to chat with him on days when they were both manning the desk.

  Unlike Josephine or Mr. Adams, Slayton did not display personal items anywhere. Her supervisor kept a picture of his family tucked in one corner of the desk when he was on duty. And in the secret drawer where she and Martin passed notes, there was a rare Viennese snow globe that Martin had purchased for her during a visit to a Pinkerton office in New York City. He had said that he couldn’t pass it up because it would always remind them of their first meeting.

  So what could she really tell Martin about him? Or about Rake Solvino, for that matter? The hotel’s darkly handsome owner was a mystery as well. Josephine pondered these thoughts as she meandered around the lush gardens, not really paying much attention to the manicured lawn and flower beds bursting with tropical colors. Then at the far edge of the park where a line of tall royal palms marked the start of the grounds for Flagler’s hotel, she suddenly paused as she caught sight of someone who looked remarkably like Martin.

  But it couldn’t be him, she thought and ducked behind the immense trunk of one of the palms to peer around the edge unseen. Especially since this man was with a woman, his forehead intimately tucked against her hair, his arms snug around her waist as she leaned her head against his chest.

  No, it couldn’t be him. Except… Except that the man had Martin’s slightly wavy blond hair. And he was the right height and build. And that mud-brown sack suit looked quite familiar…even down to the slightly worn right elbow. A tight knot formed in Josephine’s stomach as the man then raised his face to gaze down at the woman.

  Josephine’s breath left her as if someone had punched her in the gut. When she finally recovered from the blow, she turned and leaned back against the trunk, wondering how this was possible. Angel Josephine appeared in an instant and whispered, “Oh my” in her ear, while the devil had a string of choice words about what to do. All of the suggestions involved violence. While Josephine was sorely tempted to listen to that voice as her temper roused, she instead heeded the angel who sounded remarkably like her abuela as she urged trust and calm.

  Calm, Josephine told herself, remembering the mental trick her abuela had taught her to think about her favorite things that began with the letters of the word in an effort to cool her sometimes too-quick temper. C-A-L-M. Cheese, Abuela, Lists, and…Martin. She stifled a sob, valiantly trying to hold the tears in as she marched back to the Regal Sol to start her shift and await her fiancé’s arrival.

  It seemed like hours until Martin strolled through the lobby even though it had barely been half an hour.

  Calm and trust. C-A-L-M, she repeated to herself as he approached and as her devil reemerged, telling her to toss the treasured snow globe straight at his cheating head.

  When he reached the desk, he smiled at her, but it didn’t quite reach up into his eyes. She’d always thought Martin’s eyes were as beautiful and bright as a summer sky, but today their crystal blue seemed icy and reserved.

  “Miss Valencia. How are you this fine morning?” he said, the warmth of his voice dispelling some of that imagined ice.

  But the devil inside her couldn’t resist saying, “Is it a fine morning, Detective Cadden? I imagine that you have been quite busy with your…work.”

  He peered at her intently, obviously sensing her pique. “I was at…work and looking forward to seeing you very much,” he replied, with confusion in his tone.

  Well, he certainly hadn’t been looking forward to her enough to pass up a rendezvous with another woman! She wanted to spit the accusatory words at him, but bit them back.

  C-A-L-M. She was at work and could not afford to make a scene. Shuffling some papers around on her desk, she said, “Unfortunately, I have a great deal to do this morning.”

  He grasped her hand to still the nervous motion. “Tell me what’s wrong, Josephine.”

  She looked around, drew her hand away, and whispered, “Detective Cadden. This is my place of employment and not the right time to discuss this.”

  Shock registered on his features at her words and tone. “This being…?”

  “Us, Martin,” she said louder than she intended. She looked around and cleared her throat, lowering her voice. “Maybe later we—”

  “I have to work later, Josephine. But this,” he began and gestured to the two of them with a finger. “This is important to me.”

  She tilted her chin up stubbornly and said, “It’s important to me as well.”

  He acknowledged her statement with a slow dip of his head. “I’ll try to come by later,” he said, but didn’t wait for her response before he pivoted and hurried away.

  She watched him push through the lobby doors and as they closed behind him they transformed into jail cell bars that shut with a loud, metallic clang.

  Jail cell bars, my friends. Things are looking very bad. Our kind, caring, responsible—and normally very honest—Detective Martin had suddenly become a man with secrets. A man who could break Josephine’s heart!

  Despite her best efforts, Josephine couldn’t get the image of Martin and that woman out of her mind all day. He had come by at midafternoon, but she had been on her break and missed him. According to the note he’d left her, apparently, he would not be able to meet with her that night. Again.

  Josephine folded and unfolded the note, literally reading between the lines of every word Martin had written.

  I’m sorry I didn’t have more time to speak with you this morning, but I had things I had to do for work.

  Like having an assignation with a mysterious woman? she thought.

  There are things I long to tell you, but cannot, my darling.

  Like why you were holding her in your arms beneath the palms?

  If I could, I would share what is happening in the investigation, but to do so could put you in danger, and I could not live with myself if anything happened to you. I want to be sure that you are always safe.

  But I don’t need you to protect me, Martin, she wanted to shout out, and in a fit of pique, she tore the note into tiny pieces and let them drift down like snowflakes into the kitchen wastebasket.

  She had only a short break to make herself a bite to eat before returning to finish her shift. She could not spend the whole time agonizing over Martin and his deception. Hurrying to the icebox, she removed all the makings for one of her favorite grilled cheese sandwiches. As she turned to go to the counter, she noticed the shadow of a man in the doorway, but had no fear this time.

  Like clouds parting to reveal the sun, Rake Solvino stepped from the shadows and into the kitchen, smiling that devilish, dimpled grin.

  “We must stop meeting like this,” he teased.

  “That might be difficult since this is your hotel,” she shot right back, dragging a chuckle from him.

  “It certainly might since I do live here. Unfortunately, I don’t cook and the restaurant is closed. Would you take pity on me and make me something to eat?” he said and held his hands together as if begging.

  He might technically be her boss, but there was something in his playful attitude that said he wasn’t thinking of her as an employee at that moment. “All right, but beggars can’t be choosers. You’ll have to settle for one of my very special grilled cheese sandwiches.”

  He grinned and flares of light burst from that smile to light up the room and cause parts of her to tingle. “Somehow I don’t feel as if I’d be settling,” he said and sat at one of the stools by the work counter.

  “I guess you’ll see,” she replied saucily, sensing a growing connection between them. She worked quickly, her movements sure after so many years of preparing the sandwiches her mother had first taught her to make when she was a child. They contained three different types of cheese, which is what made them so tasty. While they cooked, she set two places for them
on the counter.

  When the sandwiches had reached the perfect state of golden-brown bread and cheesy meltiness, she scooped them onto plates and went to the fridge for milk. She grabbed a bottle and returned to the counter where Rake waited, and as she set the meal before him, he sat up straighter and peered at her.

  “I remember now. You were the girl at the Golden Horseshoe. The writer. Did you ever finish your novel?”

  For a moment, her heavy heart lightened. He’d remembered that night. “I am that girl, but I don’t know how much of a writer I am. I’m still trying to finish the novel. Any novel actually.”

  He picked up a half of the sandwich and devoured it in just a few bites, chewing thoughtfully while he considered her statement. After a swallow of milk, he said, “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

  She remembered his words to her that night: Be brave. But there was so much going on in her life now. “I’m not going to give up, only things are complicated…”

  As angry and upset as she was with Martin, mentioning her problems with him to Rake seemed disloyal.

  He was quick to take note of her upset. “You’re troubled.”

  She shot out of her chair and gestured to the last bite of sandwich on his plate. “You’re almost done, and I have to get back to work.”

  “Actually, I’m still hungry and would love another sandwich. It was quite good, and since I am the boss, I’ll make sure you don’t get into trouble for being a little late from your break.”

  She met his gaze directly. His eyes were brown, flecked with gold and green, and so dark it was like she was staring into the forest at night. Mysterious, fathomless, and possibly dangerous, but also filled with all kinds of exciting life. His lips had grown harsh as he sensed her earlier upset, but slowly they broke into an enticing smile.

  “Please, Josephine. You wouldn’t let a man starve, would you?”

 

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