Zara once again settled her hand on Ronaldo’s arm and said, “Marcos. His name is Marcos.”
“After Josephine’s abuelo, my dear sainted husband,” Alberta said and did the sign of the cross before looking heavenward.
“Oh,” Ronaldo said in both surprise and disappointment.
“Marcos Galeno Ronaldo Solvino Valencia,” Josephine clarified, which made Ronaldo perk up once more.
“We can call him Marcaldo for short!”
“Thank you,” Rake said from beside her and leaned down to kiss Josephine’s forehead. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Martin stiffen at the gesture, but he didn’t protest, remaining remarkably patient—always patient.
Lucia stepped up at that moment and said, “Why don’t we all give mama and baby some time alone?”
“I think that sounds like a very good idea,” Zara said. She took the baby from Ronaldo and handed him back to Josephine. “Rest. We’ll be back a little later.”
The women herded the men out of the room, leaving Josephine alone with her baby. She gazed at him and tears came to her eyes. He was so perfect. Perfect little eyes, nose, and mouth. Perfect tiny hands and fingers. So beautiful, and he was hers. Well, hers and Rake’s. And Martin’s.
Somehow they would make it work for Marcos’s sake. “We will make it work,” she repeated like a mantra. As little Marcos looked up at her peacefully, her breasts tingled, signaling that it was time to think about something else.
Out in the kitchen area, Ronaldo and the women gathered around the table, smiling and chatting gaily about the new baby.
Martin laid his hands on the top rail of the kitchen chair and met Rake’s gaze. “If you can excuse us, Rake and I need to go back to the Regal Sol.”
“Is everything okay, Rake?” Lucia asked and laid a gentle hand on her brother’s forearm.
“Yes, of course, but…Lucia, do you remember Father saying he came to Miami and stayed at the Royal Palm? Did Sondra come with him?”
Lucia paused for a moment, and then shook her head. “She didn’t, but I don’t think she stayed in Palm Beach, because I was there alone while I studied for one of my final tests.”
“Do you know where she went?” Martin asked.
Lucia shook her head again. “No, I don’t. She often travels without Father actually.”
Martin met Rake’s gaze and understanding passed between the two men. “If you’re game, I’m ready,” Rake said.
“I’m ready,” Martin said.
Two sworn enemies working together? What an epic moment! Perhaps things really are changing for the better?
The joy of his son’s miraculous birth was tempered by what Rake had seen on Josephine’s face as she’d looked at Martin. Although she hadn’t said the words, the love she had for the other man had been undeniable.
He told himself there was still hope, but in his heart he feared the worst. He drove that worry away because there was something much more important to do: find Sondra. Sin Sombra.
The image of the red ribbon he’d held earlier twined together with the image planted in his brain by Martin. One of Richard Slayton grasping the velvet trimming in his cold, dead fingers. Thinking that could have been Josephine’s fate if she’d run into Sondra in the tunnel beneath the hotel chilled his body to the bone.
“How can you be sure?” Rake said and risked a glance at Martin as they raced to the Regal Sol.
“I can’t, but I think that once we match her whereabouts with the timeline we have, we’ll be able to confirm it. Especially once we know where Sondra went when your father came to Miami. It’s at the same time when Slayton was murdered,” Martin said.
When they reached the Regal Sol, they were heading to the front desk when Penelope strolled through the lobby and stopped them. Pain glazing her features into a porcelain mask, she said, “I assume the hotel clerk had your little love child.”
Rake was a little taken aback. “What makes you say that?”
“I was having a late lunch with your father and Sondra in the dining room earlier, when Lucia stopped by to let us know that Josephine had gone into labor and she was going to help.”
That had been hours ago. “Do you know if they’re in their suite now?”
Penelope shook her head of artfully coiffed curls. “They just got in a carriage. I think Sondra wanted to say goodbye to Lucia before she returned to Palm Beach.”
“We need to go. We may be able to catch them at the cottages,” Martin said and took off at almost a run.
And as much as Rake wished for Penelope to be gone from his life, he said, “Listen, you were right to warn me before. If Sondra returns, stay away from her. I can’t go into why, just stay away.”
He rushed off, leaving a perplexed-looking Penelope staring after him.
Josephine had been surprised and pleased initially that Rake’s father and stepmother had stopped by to see the baby. But it turned out that neither of them seemed to have much interest in meeting their grandchild. Rather, Sondra and Ernesto had dropped by to bid farewell to Lucia before they left Miami.
Nevertheless, their rudeness did not seem to hamper her family’s joy. Zara and Alberta invited them to come into the kitchen for tea while Ronaldo promised to regale them with stories about the time he delivered a baby in a skit. Ernesto rolled his eyes but went with them, since Sondra lingered, saying she wanted a few moments to say goodbye to Lucia privately.
Josephine was already shifting restlessly in bed, eager to join her family.
“Is it okay if I get up?” she asked Lucia.
“Of course, but don’t overdo. You did just have a baby a couple of hours ago. In fact, why don’t we take Marcos for you?” The woman’s eyes met Sondra’s, an affectionate look on her face. “We’ll just go out on the back veranda for some fresh air and hopefully a little quiet. I suspect it may get a little noisy in there with all of Ronaldo’s stories.”
“Thank you. That sounds wonderful,” she said, and although she was still a little sore, she dragged herself from bed, washed up, and went out to the kitchen area where everyone was gathered around the table.
Zara was sharing stories of Josephine as a child and for once, Ronaldo was silent, listening intently to the tales. Ernesto, on the other hand, kept blatantly checking his pocket watch. Josephine frowned and thought to herself how lucky she was to have a father as caring and affectionate as Ronaldo. She walked over to him and squeezed his shoulder. He smiled, hopped to his feet, and gallantly offered her his seat.
“Please sit, mi’ja,” he said.
“Thank you, Papi,” she said, and she could swear she saw a tear slip down the side of his face before he hastily swiped it away.
Her heart swelled with joy at the love surrounding her, and as she sat and listened to stories she’d heard so many times before, the only thing she wished for was to have Rake and Martin there with her.
At times it was hard to understand how she could care for two such different men in such different ways, but she did. She knew she was going to have to choose between them, however, so that they could all move on with their lives.
After getting past her physical attraction to Rake, she’d come to appreciate that he was funny, caring, and determined. And he would be in her life not only because he was the baby’s father, but because he’d become her friend.
On the other hand, Martin was everything she could ever want in a man. Honorable, kind, understanding, patient—always patient. He took her breath away with just a look or a touch, and yet he brought her peace also. He knew her like no one else and had been her best friend for so long.
No matter how things turned out, she was lucky to have them both in her life. Marcos would be incredibly blessed to have such a large family who cared about him so very much.
Barely fifteen minutes had passed with Ernesto tapping his foot impatiently and looking more and more perturbed, when Martin and Rake rushed into the cottage.
“Father! Where’s Sondra?” Rake asked, b
reathless.
Surprised, his father asked, “Why? Is there something wrong?”
Martin held his hand up to stop any further questions. “Mr. Solvino, you need to trust us and just answer the question. Where is your wife?”
Shocked, Ernesto puffed up his chest and said, “I demand to know the meaning of this! I will not be interrogated like a common—”
“We think she’s Sin Sombra!” Martin shouted impatiently, cutting him off. A shocked silence followed for a few seconds, then everyone spoke at once.
“Ay dios mío!” Alberta crossed herself.
“Oh my goodness!” Zara said.
“Please. Who is this Sin Sombra character?” Ronaldo asked with obvious confusion.
“That’s nonsense,” Ernesto spluttered. “My wife is not—”
Josephine’s strong but clearly terrified voice cut through the din. “Oh no! She’s out back with Lucia and Marcos!” A gasp escaped her lips, but she straightened her spine and began walking as fast as possible to the back door.
A loud slap and sharp cry of pain burst from the back veranda. A second later Lucia lurched into the room. Her face was pale except for the bright red handprint across her cheek.
Martin rushed to her and offered support as he guided her to a chair by the kitchen table. “What happened, Lucia? Where’s Sondra?”
Josephine gripped the woman’s arm. “Lucia, where’s the baby?”
“Sondra—” She gasped for breath, nearly hyperventilating. “Sondra took him. We overheard you say she was Sin Sombra, and she went crazy and grabbed him! She said if you ever want to see the baby again, you won’t try to follow her.” Lucia stared at Martin and shook her head, her gaze filled with questions. “When I tried to stop her, she slapped me and pulled out a gun. I don’t understand. Why would she do that? How can she be Sin Sombra?”
“Noooo! We have to get Marcos back!” Josephine shouted, fear gripping her, but she drove it back. She had to be strong.
Quickly, Martin squeezed her hand. “I’ll find him. Don’t worry.”
He turned to Rake, who was quietly murmuring to a very shocked Lucia, and said, “I have an idea where she would go.”
“The marina?” Rake said.
Martin nodded. “The marina. Let’s go.”
Poor Marcos. Only hours old and already fighting for his life. Danger, Martin. Danger, Rake. Remember Slayton! Who will survive the dangerous female crime boss?
Chapter Eighteen
Even though Josephine was exhausted and her stomach was a tangled knot of dread, she couldn’t sit still. With her mother and grandmother offering both physical and emotional support, she tottered back and forth across the room while Lucia, Ronaldo, and Ernesto sat there in stunned shock.
“Sin Sombra? My Sondra? I could never have expected something like this,” Ernesto said, shock lingering on his features and all earlier traces of his impatience gone.
“She was my friend for so long, Father. I cannot believe I did not see her for what she is,” Lucia wailed and covered the handprint on her cheek with a lacy handkerchief.
“Clearly, she’s a much better actor than anyone knew. Of course, not better than me.” Ronaldo tapped his chest with bravado, but his tone was flat. If he was trying to cheer them up, he was giving what was probably the first poor performance of his life.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Alberta said without doubt, crossing herself again and glancing at Josephine. “You must believe that He would not let anything happen to your precious Marcos.”
But what about Martin and Rake? she thought. What would she do if either of them didn’t come home safely?
She couldn’t imagine losing Marcos or his father. A man who had dared her to be brave and follow her dream. A man who had become a good friend.
But her heart stopped beating at the thought of losing Martin. She didn’t know what she would do if Martin didn’t return from this mission.
At the thought, her knees buckled. Zara and Alberta managed to get her to a chair. She raised her teary gaze to them. “This cannot be happening, Mami. Abuela. Why is this happening?”
Zara kneeled before her and brushed back wisps of hair from her face. “Everyone will come home safe, mi’ja.”
Ronaldo stood behind her, leaned down, and embraced her. “All’s well that ends well, mi’ja. Have faith,” he said and pointed an index finger heavenward.
“I pray you are right, Papi,” Josephine said and as her abuela laid her head against hers, tears came to her eyes at the fact that her family circle was incomplete. But buoyed by their love, she did have faith that all the missing pieces would be home soon.
Sniff, sniff, sniff. Let us all pray the circle will not be broken by the shadow of evil.
Martin and Rake sprinted to the Regal Sol and down to the secret tunnel that ran beneath the hotel and to the river. It was the quickest route to the marina, but as they hit the path along the edge of the riverbank, Martin caught sight of Rake’s yacht just beginning to pull away from the dock. He thought that he saw Sondra—Sin Sombra—at the bow of the boat holding Marcos, but his view was obstructed by the other boats moored in the marina.
He raced to the railing by the edge of the river, vying for a better view, pulled out his weapon, and called out, “Stop! By lawful authority of the Pinkertons!”
The boat continued moving away, but he didn’t have a clear shot and even if he did, he wouldn’t take it and risk hurting Marcos.
Rushing along the marina path, he cleared the last of the docks, dodging coils of rope and equipment lockers, with Rake right behind him. When he finally had an unobstructed view of the boat, he had no doubt it was Sin Sombra holding something in her arms. The woman’s normally elegant features were twisted with evil, and as he watched, she laughed and held the bundle in her arms over the yacht’s railing.
“No! Please, no! We won’t follow,” he said, hands outstretched in a pleading gesture. Then he dropped his weapon and raised his hands as if in surrender.
Sin Sombra tossed her head back and cackled. The cruel laugh drifted across the water a second before she opened her hands and dropped the baby into the water.
“Noooo!” Rake wailed, dropping to his knees. Fear had immobilized the man, rendering him helpless.
Martin didn’t hesitate. He ripped off his jacket and boater, and raced to the railing along the edge of the river. With a last look at the bundle as it started to sink below the surface, he hopped onto the top railing and dove into the water.
The cool water was a shock to his system, but he pushed through it and the swirling currents threatening to pull him downriver. Stroking powerfully, he swam as if his life depended on it, and it did because if he lost Marcos…
When he reached the spot he’d last seen the baby, he treaded water and looked around, but didn’t see Marcos anywhere. He dived down, and even with the silt of the Everglades clouding the water, the white of the swaddling cloth was visible a few feet beneath him. He kicked hard, struggling against the current until the bundle was within reach. His fingers skimmed the cloth for only a second before the current drew it away. He stroked again, stretching his fingers almost beyond imagining and grabbed a fistful of blanket. He dragged it near, scooping the bundle with Marcos into his arms. Feeling the weight of the baby’s body within the cloth, he kicked toward the surface, all the time praying that he’d been fast enough.
Paddling with one arm, he made it to the riverbank and the levee by the marina where Rake waited, terror etched onto his features. He handed the baby up to the other man, who laid him down on the marina path and began to unswaddle him.
Martin climbed up and over the railing to where Rake kneeled silently, looking at the bundle of cloth and…
A big, dead fish.
No! He had to be somewhere, he thought and combed back his wet hair with his fingers in frustration. Trying not to panic, Martin’s mind raced with thoughts of what Sin Sombra might have done with Marcos. He looked toward where the boat had ta
ken off and ran in that direction, hoping his instincts weren’t wrong. He hopped down onto the floating dock and hurried to the empty spot where Rake’s yacht had once been moored. An equipment locker sat by the edge of the dock, its top slightly ajar.
Hands shaking, he approached the locker and knelt before it as he slowly opened the lid.
The air left his lungs at the sight of Marcos lying atop a coil of rope and assorted nets and fishing gear.
Finally breathing, relief sweeping over him, he picked up the baby and cuddled him close. The baby protested his wet clothes and let out a healthy, hearty wail of complaint, dragging a happy laugh from him.
The sound of a footstep on the wooden dock pulled his attention to Rake, who stood beside him, tears streaming down his face.
“Marcos,” Rake said softly.
Martin rose and, after the pause of a heartbeat, handed the man his son. For one small moment, as Rake cradled the baby close and kissed its head, jealousy awoke in him. This man had stolen so much from him. Josephine’s virtue. The baby he wanted to have with her someday.
But he could see Solvino’s distress, and it touched him.
“He’s all right,” Martin said, his better nature rising as he stood dripping on the dock, even though it felt as if he were watching his life rush away from him like the Miami River and Sin Sombra. Josephine had said she wanted to spend her life with him. But now that Marcos was here… How could any woman resist her baby and a father who cared as much as Rake obviously did?
“Yes, he is, thanks to you,” Rake said and held his hand out to the other man.
Martin shook it reluctantly and stepped back. “I have to go and report this to my superior. Brief my partner Nita. If we’re lucky, we can get word to our stations in the Keys and Havana. Maybe we’ll get really lucky and pick up Sin Sombra when she docks.”
“Good luck,” Rake said.
Martin wasn’t feeling lucky. He nodded and rushed off, leaving the other man with his son. Hoping that they would be able to get to Sin Sombra before she could cause any more harm to those he loved.
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