Color of Danger

by Alexa Verde

  “You think?”

  “Don’t push it.”

  * * *

  “Go ahead, say it.” Mari eyed the decadent dessert left on a carved mahogany table in the spacious dining room of the B&B. From Persian rugs to gilded mirror frames to the abundance of fresh flowers in antique vases, the place seemed to be designed to appeal and to hint at historical opulence. Probably because of the late hour, they were the only patrons there. Nowa had been left in the room as no dogs were allowed in the dining room, unless they were accompanying blind owners.

  “Say what?” Luke asked.

  “Where it all goes.” She patted her flat stomach.

  That, indeed, was a mystery. “I didn’t ask. How about I bring you some more cake?”

  “Always a gentleman,” Mari muttered under her breath. She said it in a way that he wasn’t sure if it was a compliment.

  He walked to the table with cakes, keeping both front entrance and back door in his view. “Which cake do you prefer?” he called from the table.

  “Dark-brown squares with lots of chocolate on them. It’s called Grafskiye razvalini.”

  “Excuse me?” He brought the cake to the table.

  “I think it’s translated as ‘Ruins of Count’s Castle’ from Russian. It’s delicious,” she mumbled between bites. “Lydia’s grandma recently had Russian guests. Frankly I’m glad she didn’t have Japanese staying over. Nothing against them, but I don’t think I could get full with sushi.”

  He enjoyed watching her indulging and saying “mmm” after each bite, in spite of the circumstances. Just hours ago, she’d been falling apart, and now she seemed to be well put together. “Mari, how do you do it? In the two days I’ve known you, you’ve been locked in a freezer. Had an intruder in your own home. The place you love was burned down. You were threatened numerous times. Still, you act like nothing’s happened.”

  He winced when pain flashed in her eyes. He shouldn’t have said it. She seemed to forget about her troubles, and he didn’t need to bring them up. But he needed to know if she was really so unflappable. Or if her toughness was somewhat of an acquired survival skill. For some reason, he wanted to know the real Mari.

  “Of course it affects me.” She pushed the empty plate away. “I worry about my friends. I can’t bear to think of The Café going up in flames. And I’m in no hurry to die myself. But I learned to be an optimist. I loved The Café, but I can rebuild it. Somehow. Main thing, nobody died in the fire. See, so much bad stuff happened in the past that things can only get better now.”

  He kept silent. He remembered her scar.

  She ran her fingers through her bangs. “My dad wanted a boy, not a girl. So he tried to toughen me up. Besides beating me, he had a habit of locking me in a basement. I used to spend several nights in a damp, cold basement with hungry rats for company. At the ripe ages of five, six, and seven. After that, you learn not to sweat the small stuff.”

  He sat back, speechless. It took several seconds for him to find his voice. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t think I’d survive childhood, much less my teen years. Every day was a miracle. I learned a little trick sitting in the dark basement. I imagined my fear as a big black ball. And then I colored it bright yellow in my mind. Like a little sun. I imagined danger as an orange I could peel. I imagined Dad as small and bright pink. And I tried to stop worrying. Now when something upsets or worries me, I ask myself, would I worry about it if I had only one day left to live? The answer is usually no. So I don’t.”

  “You’re incredible.” He suppressed the urge to walk around the table and gather her into his embrace. What if she withdrew the fragile trust she’d just handed him? But would he worry about it if he had one day to live? He walked toward her.

  She lifted her head and hesitated a moment. Then she stood up, and he hugged her tight. She was so close he could hear her heartbeat. His own heartbeat increased. She stirred, and he let her go, all too soon. Reluctantly he walked back to his seat. Mari was getting under his skin, like… like Cynthia had. Would he still mourn Cynthia if he only had one day to live?

  In the dim light of the dining room, Mari’s eyes looked darker. He was losing himself in the black abyss of his eyes, and he wasn’t stuck in the past anymore. Mari was a vivid present, but could she be the future, too? His admiration of her courage and her spirit was becoming something else, and he’d be a goner soon if he didn’t leave now. But how could he walk away if her life was in danger?

  Mari seemed to be oblivious to his inner struggle as she took a sip of tea. “Thanks. I am incredible. But not to my dad. He taught me how to use a gun and a knife. But I didn’t like to hunt. He taught me the art of mixed drinks. But I don’t drink alcohol. He showed me how to make money, exploiting cheap labor. But I wanted to give jobs to locals. According to him, I was a complete failure. He tried to change that. But beating me up and leaving me in the basement without food for days didn’t help.”

  His heart ached for her, and he made the decision. He was going to protect Mari even at the risk of losing his heart. “How did you survive?”

  “I ran away. Lydia’s grandma gave me my first job, the busgirl at one of her restaurants. She let me in. He tried to track me down. So I believe she had a talk with my father.”

  “And he listened to her?” Luke’s eyes widened. From the picture she’d painted, Harvey Del Lobo was ruthless. An old woman could be no match for him.

  “Apparently, money speaks. She’s wealthy and influential. She was a city commissioner for many years, several times was elected mayor. One of the churches here was built thanks to her donation.”

  “Very generous of her.” Seeing Mari moving the empty plate around, Luke got up and brought her another helping of cake. “So she could buy and sell Rios Azules if she wanted?”

  Digging in with enthusiasm, Mari nodded. “And then some. If she tried hard enough, she could influence the success of his businesses. Also, rumor has it, one day Dad received a package with no return address. It contained a target with the bullet holes spelling Harvey. Nobody knew who sent it. But Dad stopped harassing me after that. All I know is Aidan grew up on a farm. He once mentioned he could hit a squirrel’s eye from several yards.”

  “All these years, you had no contact with your father?”

  She looked away. “Just once. When I joined the band in Dallas. He called me and said I was a failure.”

  “He was wrong. You’re not a failure.” Luke reached across the table and stroked her hand just once. “Far from it.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, fire flashed in them. “My friends and this town are proud of me. I’m proud of myself. That’s what matters.”

  “That’s right.” He studied her, taking in her inner strength. “After what you’ve told me, it’s probably best if you don’t go to talk to your father.”

  “No. I’ve got to. Lives might be at stake. Besides, I have to face him someday. Might as well be tomorrow.”

  Luke leaned back. Somewhere between carrying Mari out of the freezer and praying for her, his priorities had shifted. It was still extremely important to find the murderer, but he also needed to keep Mari safe.

  “You’re probably wondering if my father applied the same methods of upbringing to Tony. Locking in the basement — yes. Beating up — no. But my dear father didn’t have to do it on the same scale. Tony was already a boy. The one who liked to fight. Popular in school. The captain of the football team. The one who loved to hunt, especially wolves. Tony joined Dad’s business early on, too. Tony was the son he’d always wanted. I was a daughter he never did.”

  “It’s his loss. Would you like to get some rest? You must be very tired.”

  She shook her head. “I’m too wired to sleep right now.”

  They carried the dishes to the kitchen and placed them in the dishwasher. Then Mari covered the cakes and put several of them in the refrigerator. At this late hour, the staff was already gone
. He supposed the live-in manager was sound asleep in her room.

  “Would you like to sit by the fireplace?” He gestured to the living room.

  She nodded, pouring herself another glass of lemon iced tea from the pitcher. He did the same with raspberry tea, and they walked to the spacious living area and sat in comfortable soft chairs with a flowery pattern. There was an elegant white vase on the mantel of the fireplace with fresh pink roses, which filled the room with a wonderful aroma.

  “About the visit to your dad,” Luke said. “I’m going with you.”

  “Fine. But I’ll have to go inside his office alone. He won’t tell me much in your presence.”

  Luke didn’t like that idea but figured he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. “I have to ask you something. Do you have a will?”

  “You think money is the motive? Well, The Café is my biggest property. I mean, was my biggest property, and I’m still paying business loans on it. So I don’t see anybody desiring that.”

  “You might have a treasure hidden in your yard.” He smiled.

  “Nowa would have dug it out. But, okay, I have a will. Twenty percent goes to cover severance pay to The Café employees. The rest is divided in equal parts between Aidan, River, Lydia, Soledad, and Julia. Aidan will take Nowa in. That’s it.” Reflections of fire tongues played in her eyes.

  “So probably it wasn’t a motive,” Luke said.

  Her eyes widened. “What if we’re thinking about June’s murder wrong? What if it was made to look like it was connected to Tony? Maybe to look like my late brother was back or like there was a copycat killer. If we take Tony’s signature and the threats I’ve been receiving out of the equation, what’s left?”

  “June’s murder. Who benefitted from it?”

  She rubbed her forehead. “Financially, June’s father. But he has an alibi.” She pulled up the pictures of June’s body on her phone. “He didn’t look strong enough to me to inflict all those wounds. Unless he was only playing the part of a feeble, old man. And I’d say the killer was a bit taller than Larry. Who else?”

  “June’s husband?”

  Mari drummed her fingers at the table. “Yes, especially if he didn’t know about the change in life insurance policy. However, he also has an alibi. But maybe somebody close to him, friends or family?”

  “The person who also has access to your keys. Somebody from The Café staff? I can call Larry tomorrow and ask him if he knows anything about it.”

  Her lips thinned, and she pulled up June’s obituary on her phone. After a quick reading, she sighed. “There’s not much information about June’s husband’s relatives here. I’m going to call my employees tomorrow and ask them to come to a meeting. I’ll have to give them the news about The Café. I’ll need to pay more attention to Nina. She asked me for a lot of money to pay her son’s medical bills. But now I’m thinking there might be more to it. She’s always been reliable, but she’s been missing a lot of days lately.”

  “And why couldn’t she close The Café?” Luke frowned.

  “Now that I think about it… What if there’s a reason June’s husband’s shirts smelled of perfume? What if her husband had a new love interest?”

  Luke nodded slowly. “And that woman decided to get rid of the competition?”

  “Otherwise, why would anyone send the anonymous text to June about her husband’s gambling? Maybe June’s husband told the woman that the trick didn’t work and June wouldn’t divorce him. So the woman had to find a different way to get rid of June. Again, that person would need to have access to my keys and know personal things about me.”

  “That’s a lot of maybes,” Luke said.

  “I know, but… It might be a coincidence, but of the entire staff of The Café, Tara is the one who has been behaving strangely the last month. According to the grapevine, she’s in love. But nobody knows who the guy is. There should be a valid reason why she wouldn’t tell anybody, even her best friends.” Mari stared into space without blinking. “Maybe I was wrong about the cookies. Maybe they were for Tara after all. What if somebody wanted to get rid of Tara?”

  “Remember, these are just guesses. We don’t have any proof.”

  Mari nodded. “I’m just trying to have an open mind. You know, if it was made to appear that a serial killer killed June…”

  “It means there will be a new murder soon.”

  “Yes.” She paused. “Because of what happened to Cynthia… do you hate me, Luke?”

  He flinched. “Of course not. It wasn’t your fault. But I’m not like other people.”

  “You certainly are not.” She drained the last of her lemon tea. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Wait. Tomorrow is Sunday. Don’t you usually go to Sunday mass?”

  “Yes, but I don’t think you do.” He wished she’d accompany him. But from what he’d learned about Mari, if he tried to pressure her, she’d never do it. It had to come from her.

  “I don’t. Not since the day Tony died. Are you going to mass tomorrow?”

  He got up, carried both their glasses to the kitchen, and placed them in the dishwasher. “No.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Oh, I know. You’re afraid to leave me by myself. Very chivalrous of you. But I can take of myself.”

  “I know.” He crossed his arms on his chest.

  “You do want to go.”

  “I grew up in a family of believers. Praying has been part of my everyday life since I was a little boy. My parents taught me to seek guidance from God and to see the glory of God in every moment. I feel at peace in church. I feel empowered. So I haven’t missed a Sunday mass in many years. Even after Cynthia died. My faith saved me. Believing that Cynthia is in heaven helped me deal with my loss.” Luke paused.

  Her lips tightened. “Then I’ll go with you.”

  “Great.” He took a step closer.

  She raised her hand to stop him. “I can’t promise anything. Also, fair warning, it might create some rumors. But then, our close company probably already has.”

  He frowned. Had he ruined her reputation? Even though nothing inappropriate had happened? It was a small town, after all. “Rumors. Do they worry you?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m a serial killer’s sister. Could it be worse than that?”

  “Mari…” He wished he could help her.

  Her eyes widened. “I just realized something. I remember who I saw in the picture in social media with June’s husband.”

  Chapter Nine

  At nine o’clock on Sunday morning, Mari met with her employees in the dining room of the B&B. With a loan from Lydia’s grandmother, Mari had pulled together enough to give everyone a month’s check.

  There were tears, but Lydia’s grandmother had already promised to give them temporary employment until The Café was cleared from the arson investigation and rebuilt. Luke had offered money, too, but Mari refused to take it.

  When everybody was leaving, Mari stepped to her head waitress. “Nina, I’d like to have a word with you.”

  Nina’s glance darted away, but she lingered.

  Mari waited until the door closed after the last of her employees. “You gave June’s husband the money to pay his gambling debts. Why?”

  “And you were supposed to meet with her the day she died,” Luke said.

  Nina’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

  Mari counted on her fingers. “You were missing work a lot, including the day June died. You looked worried when I saw you. This morning I managed to find out the amount of your son’s medical bills. Let’s say somebody at the hospital owed me a favor. The amount you asked me for was much higher than the bills. I also came across a picture of you with June’s husband. It was a blurry, lots of people, and only showed a small part of your face. I didn’t recognize you at first. But I remembered it after the fire.”

  Nina retreated a step. “He’s my nephew. I met with June to try to stop the divorce. She didn’t change her mind, but when I left her, she was still alive.�
��

  “Why did you need to leave so early you couldn’t close The Café?” Luke asked.

  “I received an anonymous text scheduling an immediate meeting. If I didn’t show up, the police would find out I was the last one to see June alive.” Nina hesitated.

  “Go on,” Mari said.

  Nina looked toward the floor. “So I ran to the meeting place. Only there was nobody there. I didn’t know about the fire. Honest! I didn’t set it up.”

  “You’ll have to tell the police about all that,” Luke said.

  Her head hung low, Nina nodded.

  * * *

  At ten o’clock sharp, Mari stepped inside her father’s office. Luke had put up a fight about her going inside the room alone, but she hadn’t budged. So he’d stayed outside the door, obviously ready to charge in at any second. She had her phone on speakerphone so he could hear the conversation. Wearing a wire didn’t make sense as she’d been searched by her father’s bodyguards upon entering the property. For the same reason, she’d left her gun and knife in Luke’s car.

  Delaying the moment of speaking with her father, she glanced around. It hadn’t changed much since her childhood. The office occupied one of the biggest rooms on Del Lobo’s magnificent property and still boasted cherry tables, gilded clocks, and original paintings of hunting scenes, as well as expensive weapons displayed on the walls. But what her father probably loved the most about this room was a large wolf in the corner, killed by Harvey Del Lobo himself. There were no pictures of friends or family.

  Even on Sunday, her father was busy taking care of his empire. From a huge desk to small chairs, weapons, and the wolf, the room was meant to intimidate visitors. She squared her shoulders. She wasn’t intimidated.

  Her father waved at the bodyguards, dismissing them. Now he had more gray hair and his wrinkles had deepened, but his small eyes were still sharp and ruthless. His aquiline nose reminded her of a vulture.

  After the door closed behind the bodyguards, she strode to his enormous desk and took a chair without asking permission. She placed the folder she had with her on the shiny top of his desk.