Lucia in Love

by Heather Graham

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know!”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know that, either!” Lucia moaned. She sat in silence for a moment, then rose. “Yes, I do.”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to bed.”

  “To bed?”

  “Yes, I’m exhausted. And if I get some sleep, things may start to make sense. Are you coming?”

  “Yes! Let’s double bolt everything and get in there together.”

  A few minutes later they were both stretched out on Ryan’s king-size bed. Lucia heard Dina sigh softly.

  “Lucia?”

  “What?”

  “If he turns out not to be a murderer, I really think you should marry that boy.”

  Lucia sat up. “What?”

  “I said, if he turns out not to be a murderer—”

  “He isn’t a murderer!”

  “Good. Then take some advice from me. Catch him and hold on tight.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” Lucia promised. She smoothed her hands over the sheets and closed her eyes, and she couldn’t help but remember the night when they had lain in this bed together. She couldn’t forget his touch, or his words.

  Didn’t she wish that they could go home together, lie down together, go to sleep together? he had asked.

  But today had asked her to live with him again. Not to marry him, to live with him. And someone had gone into her room today—at his command. Maybe he had taken her to Charleston on purpose.

  No. She wound her fingers into the sheets and held tight. He had said that he loved her today.

  And for tonight, she wouldn’t doubt him. Tonight she would make the love be enough, if only in her dreams.

  CHAPTER 10

  As tired as Lucia was, she didn’t sleep late in the morning. She woke just before six, told herself she was insane and burrowed back under the covers. But there were too many things on her mind, and she couldn’t get back to sleep. After ten minutes of staring at the wall, she gave up.

  She hadn’t brought any of her own things upstairs, but she discovered that Dina had taken care of the situation. She found her toothbrush in the bathroom, and one of her bathing suits, a red bikini, folded on the counter. She knew that it was early, but decided that a walk on the beach might be nice. Maybe when she got back Uncle Mario would be making some of his famous onion-studded hash brown potatoes. That would be nice.

  She dressed in the bathing suit and checked on Dina, who was sleeping soundly.

  Lucia left her a note, absconded with her beach robe and left Ryan’s penthouse. She paused on the terrace. It was going to be a beautiful day. There was a gentle breeze, and the sky was etched with colors, gold and pink and crimson. The smell of the sea was in the air, and everything was perfect.

  Lucia decided to run down the stairs instead of taking the elevator. The exercise felt good, but she was panting when she reached the bottom step. She saw her Uncle Mario. He and her cousin Joe were already stretched out on lawn chairs, reading the newspaper, a tin pot of espresso between them.

  “Good morning!” Lucia called.

  “Hey, paisano, good morning!” Uncle Mario walked over and kissed her. “We haven’t seen much of you. Where have you been? Off falling in love, huh? Want some espresso?”

  “I’d love some espresso.” She was awfully glad of the second question.

  “Mind taking Joey’s cup?”

  She glanced at Joe. He was blinking against the sun and watching her peculiarly.

  “I don’t mind at all.”

  Joe grinned at her. “Lots of sugar, Dad. Lucia hates it without sugar.”

  “Sugar, lots of it,” Uncle Mario said. He fixed Lucia a demitasse of the strong coffee and pulled up a chair for her. “Where have you been, sweetie?”

  “I went into Charleston yesterday, with Ryan Dandridge.”

  “You did? Well, good for you. Did you have a good time?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  “You coming with us to dinner tonight?”

  “All of us in one restaurant? Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Joe was still watching her. “You inviting Ryan?”

  She stared at him. “Should I?”

  “Yeah, I think you should.”

  “And if I don’t invite him, you will?”

  “Am I missing something here?” Uncle Mario asked.

  Lucia shook her head. “No, no.” She sipped the espresso. It was delicious. Her uncle could make great hash browns and wonderful espresso. It was a good thing she lived in Atlanta, she decided. Though her own mother was a fabulous cook, Lucia had learned to say no when Patience was pushing extra helpings. But it was impossible to say no to her aunts and uncles.

  “That Ryan, he’s a nice boy.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “He’s not Italian, but he’s a nice boy.”

  Lucia lowered her head, trying not to smile. “Yes, Uncle Mario.”

  “You like him?”

  “Uncle Mario!”

  “Dad,” Joe interceded. “I could really go for some more espresso. And I’ll bet Bill will be down soon. You know he loves this stuff.”

  “You think so? Well, I’ll go make another pot. With my luck that Gino Lopez will come by for some. Though come to think of it, I’ve seen even less of him than I have of Lucia for the last few days.”

  Lucia froze, watching her uncle. He had spoken ruefully, bluntly. He had to be innocent. What should she do? Should she tell him that Gino Lopez would never be by again to drink his espresso? She could just imagine herself saying casually, “Oh, Uncle Mario, don’t worry. Gino Lopez is dead. I can’t prove it, because I can’t find his body right now, but I saw it once on the beach, and then again in my bathtub.”

  “Your bathtub, you say?”

  “Yes, my bathtub. But then he disappeared from there too….”

  Uncle Mario started for the elevator, and Joe interrupted her reverie by asking, “So how’s life, little cousin?”

  She cast him a slow, careful look. “I don’t know, Joe. You tell me. What’s going on with you?”

  “With me. Nothing.”

  “Why do you always look like the cat who ate the canary?”

  “I do not.”

  “You do.”

  Joe shrugged. “Well, I have this friend, you see….”

  “Go on,” Lucia said.

  Joe was grinning away. He didn’t seem to be able to help himself. “I wish I could have been there.”

  “Where?”

  “In your room. The morning when you and Ryan collided on the bed.”

  Lucia gasped, stunned. “Joe! You set that up on purpose!”

  “I was afraid you might not talk to each other if I didn’t set something up.”

  “Damn it, Joe! Then Ryan did know—”

  “No, Lucia, Ryan is innocent of whatever you’re about to accuse him of. I just put two and two together. I knew that you spent the winter in Rhode Island without seeing any of us—which was very strange. And I knew that Ryan was there. And then he suddenly returned in an awful temper, and he didn’t go out on dates anymore, and I knew something had happened. A little checking up assured me that the object of his amore was my own dear sweet cousin, Lucia Lorenzo.”

  She stared at him openmouthed. He tapped her chin, closing her jaw for her. Lucia hesitated for a moment, faltering. “Joe, you had no right. You had no right at all.”

  “Lucia, don’t be such a stubborn little coward.”

  “I am not a coward.”

  “You are. You want something, so go and get it!”

  “Joe, you don’t understand. It isn’t me. It’s your friend. Oh, never mind. Why am I trying to talk to you?” She groaned.

  “You should be talking to Ryan.”

  Lucia rose, smiling at him sweetly. “I’m going to the beach. See you later.”

  His laughter followed her as she leaped over the wall to the beach
. She walked down to the water and kicked at the surf. It was going to be a hot day. She stared up at the sun, and it was nearly blinding. She blinked quickly, turned around to face the condo again and opened her eyes.

  A gasp escaped her.

  Gino Lopez was on one of the balconies. Or at least his body was. He was leaning over the railing, and he was still wearing his swimming trunks.

  Then the sun rose higher, shooting painful rays into her eyes, and she blinked again.

  In that short time, the body disappeared.

  “No!” she cried. She started running toward the condo, then paused. She didn’t know which balcony it had been! She had been blinking from the sun, and then she had been so startled that she hadn’t really paid attention to which balcony held the body!

  “Damn!” she swore in frustration. But it was there—somewhere.

  She leaped over the wall again and hurried across the pool area. Joe stared at her, his sunglasses in place, the newspaper in his hands.

  Well, Joe was innocent, she decided. But Uncle Mario…

  Uncle Mario had just returned to his room—to make more coffee. Or so he had said. And the rest of the family were all still in their apartments. Not even the children were out yet.

  “Lucia!” Joe called.

  She ignored him and pressed the button for the elevator. When it didn’t come, she raced to the stairs.

  On the second floor, she paused. Uncle Mario and Aunt Faith were just stepping out of their apartment. “Good morning, Lucia!” Aunt Faith called to her. “You are coming to dinner tonight, right?”

  “Uh—right!” Lucia responded.

  Then they were all startled by an explosion of angry words coming from Lucia’s and Dina’s apartment. Aunt Faith looked quickly from her husband to Lucia. “That’s Ron Lopez’s voice!” she said.

  Lucia realized that her aunt was right. Then she heard Ryan’s voice, quiet and deadly, before Ron Lopez’s voice flared out again.

  “Is Dina in there?” Uncle Mario demanded. He looked as if he was about to barge through the door.

  Lucia shook her head. “Dina and I traded the penthouse for our condo last night. Dina is sleeping upstairs, Uncle Mario.”

  “You did it, Dandridge!” Ron Lopez’s voice suddenly came to them very clearly. “Because you owed him—”

  “No. I paid my debts years ago.”

  The voices fell again. Lucia felt acutely uncomfortable, standing there listening to it all, with her aunt and uncle.

  She had to get away. She didn’t want to find the body anymore. She just wanted to get away. She had to go somewhere.

  “Excuse me!” she said, flashing her aunt and uncle a quick smile before she turned and fled. She hurried back to the beach, where she started walking.

  She didn’t stop until she was far away, and then she sat down in the sand, hugged her knees and felt the sun on her shoulders as she leaned her face into her hands. She was in love with Ryan. And she was afraid that he was a murderer.

  How could she love him and suspect him of such a thing? If she loved him, she should defend him. He couldn’t have killed Lopez!

  But if he hadn’t done it…then maybe one of her uncles had.

  She didn’t know what to think, what to feel. She was in love with Ryan, and he had said that he loved her, even if he hadn’t managed yet to come around to proposing marriage. His love was something special. But she was so afraid….

  She lay down in the sun and felt its warmth wash over her. She felt numb inside, and she closed her eyes and just lay there.

  Sometime after noon she headed back. She wanted to see Ryan desperately, yet she was afraid to see him.

  He was nowhere around. Instead, Lucia found Dina and Theresa and Sophie with the kids on the beach. “The guys are out golfing,” Theresa told Lucia.

  “That’s nice.”

  “Ryan is with them,” Sophie offered.

  “That’s nice.”

  “So how’s your love life?” Theresa demanded.

  “Better than mine!” Dina sighed, but she offered Lucia a wavering smile.

  Even Dina was afraid of Ryan, Lucia thought.

  “Joe said to tell you that he invited Ryan to dinner tonight,” Theresa told Lucia. “He was afraid you might have forgotten.”

  “How thoughtful of him,” Lucia murmured.

  “I think you should tell all,” Sophie said solemnly.

  Lucia started. Tell all? What were they talking about?

  “Charleston!” Theresa said. “How was your day in Charleston?”

  “Oh, it was, umm, fine. We had a really good time. Hey, want me to take Tracy in the water for a while?”

  “Sure, thanks,” Theresa said.

  Lucia took Tracy in her arms. It felt good to hold her little cousin, and it was nice to see her beautiful, innocent smile.

  “Hey, you’re not getting out of anything!” Sophie called to Lucia as she headed for the water. “We want all the details in living color!”

  “Dream on!” Lucia called back.

  She played in the water with Tracy for a while, then walked back up the beach and announced that she was going to go in and take a nap before dinner. Dina was ready to go in with her. “We’re back in our own apartment,” she said. “It was just too hard to start moving everything.”

  Lucia thought about telling Dina that she had seen the body again, then decided against it. She was starting to think she was losing her mind herself.

  A little while later, the phone rang. It was Sophie. There was going to be a cocktail hour at five in her apartment, then the younger generation was going to play an hour of goony golf before meeting the aunts and uncles at seven-thirty for dinner.

  By five they were outside Sophie’s condo. Leon opened the door and whistled at both of them. Lucia saw that Ryan was already there. He had a fawn jacket thrown over his shoulders, and he was in stone-washed jeans and a navy polo shirt. He was standing by the sofa, sipping a beer with Joe. His eyes fell on her, and he smiled, but she wasn’t sure the smile touched his eyes.

  “Aunt Faith made stuffed mushrooms. Help yourself,” Sophie said, offering a tray to Lucia.

  Leon brought her a glass of white wine. “I like that outfit. It’s a pity we’re related, because you are awfully cute,” he told Lucia.

  She was wearing a white halter dress with a wide red belt, red beads and earrings, and sandals. It was a good outfit for her, she knew. The white emphasized her tan, and the red was good against the darkness of her hair and eyes. Ryan’s eyes were on her again, and she thought that he appreciated the outfit, too. But then he looked away, as if he hadn’t really been paying attention to her after all.

  Why should he? He had other things on his mind. He’d started the morning off with a big argument with the son of a man he might have killed….

  They didn’t linger in the apartment long before heading for goony golf. They had the older children with them, while the aunts and uncles had the babies. From the way that Ryan moved purposefully toward Lucia, she knew she would be riding with him. “Hey, Theresa, Ryan and I will take the twins, okay?” she asked.

  “Sure!” Theresa called back.

  If Ryan was puzzled by her action, he didn’t show it. In the parking lot Lucia quickly ushered the boys into the back seat, then chatted nonstop with them while Ryan drove. She caught his eyes once. Now he was puzzled.

  The women played against the men once they got to the golf course. Theresa and Sophie each made a hole in one right off the bat. The men—the real golfers in the group—took several strokes.

  “We’re just trying to make you feel good,” Leon said.

  “Sure. Women like to feel superior,” Bill added, nodding sagely.

  “Right,” his wife said, stepping by him to the next hole. She tugged on his earlobe. “It’s because we are superior,” she said sweetly.

  “Hey, we’re not going to take that!” Joe protested.

  “Sure we are,” Bill said, his eyes sparkling as he pul
led Theresa into his arms. “I want her coming home in a good mood.”

  Everyone laughed except Lucia, who felt Ryan watching her. He caught up to her, alone, when they got to the third hole. “What the hell is the matter with you?” he demanded.

  “Nothing!”

  “Nothing?”

  “All right, Ryan. I saw the body again today.”

  “What? When? Where?”

  “On the balcony. Your balcony, I think. My balcony, I mean. The balcony where you were staying this morning!”

  “Lucia, you’re nuts!”

  “I’m not! And I also…”

  “You also what?”

  “I also heard you arguing with Ron Lopez. Aunt Faith and Uncle Mario heard you, too, so don’t deny it!”

  “So what?”

  “He accused you of murdering his father.”

  Ryan stepped back. “Oh. So that makes me guilty.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I hope my life is never at stake with you on the jury.”

  “Ryan—”

  He didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. He rejoined the men and didn’t speak to her for the rest of the game.

  Despite her less-than-adequate playing, the women easily triumphed over the men, and everyone—or nearly everyone—left in good spirits. Lucia talked to the twins again as they drove to the restaurant, and Ryan didn’t even glance her way.

  The restaurant was wonderful. Their table was on an open terrace facing the beach. There were candles stuck in wine bottles, and the tablecloths were all red and white checked cotton. The lights were muted, and the music was as soft as the sea breeze.

  Everyone was talking and joking and laughing, having a thoroughly good time. But Lucia couldn’t bring herself to look at Ryan sitting beside her. It was achingly good to be with him, to see him with her family, to see him laugh and fit in. And yet it was also very painful, because she didn’t know what was going on, and she certainly didn’t know what to do.

  In between the appetizers and the main course, she suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. All she wanted was to have Ryan’s arm casually around her shoulders, the way Bill’s arm fell around Theresa. She wanted the laughter; she wanted the warmth. She wanted the trust, but no matter how close she came to it, it seemed to elude her.

  “Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” she said suddenly, standing up.