Beautiful Storm (Lightning Strikes Book 1)

by Barbara Freethy

  "Hey, women always want us to show emotion and when we do, you don't like it," he said with a grin.

  "Not when you're crying about your car," she said, letting him into her apartment.

  "A '76 Mustang is a sweet ride."

  "It's just a vehicle, something that gets you from point A to point B."

  "No, a car is always more than a car to a guy. It's like a purse to a woman. It's a sign of status. It represents your personality. And it shows off your flash."

  She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but you're driving a leased convertible that you didn't even pick out for yourself, so if a car is so important to you, then what's the deal?" She tossed her keys down on the side table and took off her jacket.

  "That car is just part of the job. It's not me."

  "So what do you drive in New York?"

  "I don't drive in the city."

  "Then you don't own a car?"

  "I do," he said, a sheepish smile on his face.

  "What is it—a Porsche? A BMW. Wait, it isn't a Mustang, is it?"

  "No, it's an Infiniti sports car. Nice speed, great handling, and all-wheel drive takes me wherever I want to go."

  "And where does it take you?"

  "Upstate New York sometimes. My grandfather has a place in the Adirondacks, sometimes down to Cape Cod or farther south to Martha's Vineyard."

  "Where I assume your grandfather also has houses?"

  "He does own a lot of real estate," Michael admitted. "It's his business, and he's been buying and selling for half a century."

  "Sounds like you have a nice inheritance in your future."

  "Only if I prove myself. Otherwise, he claims to be leaving everything to his favorite charities."

  She gave him a doubtful look. "Seriously?"

  "Yes. Will Jansen doesn't give anybody anything unless they earn it, and part of earning it is being unconditionally loyal and following the path he wants you to follow."

  She sat down at her kitchen table. "Is that what you're doing, following his path?"

  "While trying to make it my own—yes. Unfortunately, making it my own doesn't always make my grandfather happy." He paused as he sat down across from her. "But we got off topic. We were talking about your bad dates."

  "I'd rather talk about you. You told me your dad came to Miami from Cuba. And I've now heard a little about your grandfather, but I don't know anything about your mother. How did your parents meet?"

  "My mother was twenty years old. She was going to school at Yale, but she and a friend came to Miami for the summer. She wanted to suntan and make some money by the beach, so she got a job waitressing. My father had only been in Miami three months when he met her. He was working as a bus boy at the same restaurant."

  Michael paused for a moment, his gaze reflective. "They both told me that they fell in love at first sight. They had a whirlwind romance. I think their relationship also went faster than normal, because they knew she would go back to school soon. By the end of the summer she was pregnant. She dropped out of Yale, much to her parents' dismay and she married my dad."

  "And had you," Alicia said.

  "We had a good life. Those early years, I just remember as being really happy. She was a free spirit, nothing like her father—my grandfather. She didn't care about money or ambition. She was a dancer and a singer, and she liked to have fun. I think her parents disowned her when she got married. They thought my dad was after her money, but he wasn't. He was in love with her."

  "It sounds very romantic."

  "I think it was."

  "How did she die?"

  "She had a difficult time with my birth. I guess there was scarring or something that made it risky for her to have more kids. But she thought she could beat the odds."

  Alicia's heart turned over. She knew where this was going. "Oh, Michael."

  "I was eight years old when she got pregnant again. She was really happy about it. She kept telling my father that everything would be fine, but it wasn't fine. She died from a late miscarriage," he finally said. "Both her and the baby."

  "That's so sad. You and your father must have been devastated."

  "It was horrible. My dad got so quiet after she passed. It was like we were living in a tomb. Everything was silent. I thought I would never hear him laugh again. But it turned out I was wrong about that. He met Veronica and life was good again—at least for him."

  "What's Veronica like?"

  "She's great," he said with a shrug. "She's devoted to my dad. She's a good mother. She treated me well enough. But she didn't like me to talk about my mom. She's not a bad person. And my dad isn't bad, either. They just didn't need me in their lives. I'm sure life was a lot easier when I left. My dad made it sound like going to prep school was all about me, saving me from crime and bad influences, but it was also about him having the freedom to show his love for his new family without any restraint."

  She thought about his words for a moment. "Your family history is definitely complicated."

  "Like I said, it wasn't that bad."

  She had a feeling he was making light of some painful memories. "You don't have to pretend with me, Michael."

  "I'm not pretending. I'm also not crying. So that should make you happy."

  She made a face at him. "It was a car, Michael, a thirty-plus-year-old car with peeling paint and bad upholstery. I'm not a mean person. I have compassion."

  "Just not for old, sad cars."

  "Okay, you've got me there."

  He settled back in his chair. "So, did anyone in Liliana's family have anything interesting to say while I was away from the table?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact. Isabel told me that Liliana and David were not very friendly with each other. Did you know that?"

  He shook his head. "No, I've never heard that."

  "She said that David's father was injured in a friendly fire incident while he was in the Navy, but that the Navy covered up the true facts of the incident. He asked Liliana to look into it, which she did, but she came to the conclusion that there was no cover-up. David didn't agree."

  "Why have I never heard that before?"

  "Isabel probably didn't want to make a point of it since she was caught in the middle between her fiancé and her sister."

  "Liliana loved being in the Navy. It wasn't just that the Navy got her through college and into the career that she wanted; she was also a patriot. If David attacked the Navy and/or her integrity, she wouldn't like it," Michael said.

  "But she did come back for Isabel and David's wedding, so she must have put negative feelings aside for her sister's sake. Isabel also mentioned that David is really unhappy about the indefinite postponement of their wedding."

  "I can see why he would be frustrated about that. He's definitely got a temper. I've seen that over the last couple of months."

  "Maybe we should look into David."

  Michael raised a brow. "You think he'd try to get rid of Isabel's sister? Why?"

  "Perhaps he thought she was going to tell Isabel not to marry him. Liliana wanted to speak to you and not her family, which would support the theory that her problem had something to do with her family."

  "I get where you're going, but if Liliana had something to tell Isabel, she would have just told her. She wouldn't have held back."

  "Her sister was getting married in two days. It would have been really difficult to crush her sister's dreams at that point."

  A frown spread across Michael's face, but she could see that he was considering her idea. "Maybe we should take a closer look at David."

  "Isabel said he recently started his own computer software training company." She opened her computer. "What's David's last name again?"

  "Kenner."

  She typed in his name and hit Search. She got an answer on the first page of results. "Kenner Computing. They offer software training for mid- to large-sized businesses covering the usual office software programs." She looked at Michael. "It sounds pretty boring. But just because David a
ppears to be on the dull side doesn't mean he doesn't have a secret. I wonder whether the police questioned him about his whereabouts the night Liliana went missing."

  "I know they talked to all the family members, but whether that was just a few cursory questions, I couldn't tell you."

  "We'll have to find out."

  He nodded, a long yawn following that motion. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair.

  Despite his weariness, she couldn't help thinking how attractive he looked with a shadow of beard on his cheeks, the waves of his hair deliciously mussed. She wouldn't mind running her hand through those thick strands, maybe offering a kiss to soothe his furrowed, worried brow. Then she might see something else in those amazing blue eyes of his besides exhaustion. A pack of butterflies flew through her stomach at that thought.

  What on earth was wrong with her? She felt suddenly nervous, restless.

  If she leaned across the table, and if he did the same, she could make this tantalizing daydream come true.

  And then Michael's voice broke through her reverie.

  "Can I use your shower?" he asked.

  "What?" she asked, still a little dazed by the sexy thoughts running through her head.

  "To clear my mind. I need to wake up. Or, I could run home and come back."

  "You don't have to do that. You can shower here. There are clean towels under the sink."

  "Thanks."

  After he left the room, she let out a breath, thinking maybe she was the one who could have used a shower—a cold shower.

  She looked at her computer, yawned and then decided to take her laptop over to the couch.

  She settled in among the comfortable cushions and then realized she'd made a huge mistake. Her eyelids seemed suddenly extremely heavy.

  Maybe she'd take just a short nap. Then she'd come back at full strength.

  * * *

  Michael turned the shower first to hot and then to cold, needing something to douse the unexpected attraction he'd felt for Alicia a few minutes earlier. For a second there, he'd thought about kissing her, and the expression on her face seemed to support that possibility as a good idea. But it wasn't good; it was bad, very bad.

  Alicia was one of the few people who believed in his innocence and was trying to help him get to the truth. The last thing he needed to do was ruin that. He needed her.

  It was an odd thought to have about someone he'd met only hours earlier, but deep down in his soul, he felt like she was going to be the answer to all the unanswered questions. She was going to be the way out of the darkness.

  Shaking his head at the ludicrousness of that belief, he stepped directly under the spray, letting the cold water run through his hair and over his shoulders.

  Alicia was just a photographer who'd happened to be in the right place at the right time or maybe it was the wrong place at the wrong time—who knew? She thought the lightning had shown her something she needed to see—the ID tag. It didn't make sense to him, but he couldn't argue with the results. Nor could he discount all the little connections between Alicia and Liliana.

  There was the Texas connection for one; the Navy for another. And what about the similarities between her father's background and his? Her dad had had a Hispanic mother and a Caucasian father. He'd had just the opposite, but they'd both grown up in families that had a clash of cultures.

  He and Alicia were one step removed from the clash, but he often felt like he still had a foot in each world. He didn't think Alicia had been so profoundly impacted by her ethnic background, probably because her parents had provided a stable home until she was a teenager. Although she still liked to think that lightning had some mythical powerful quality, a belief she traced back to her Mayan great-grandmother.

  There was something else they had in common. Alicia had lost her father, and he'd lost his mother.

  So it wasn't that uncommon for people to suffer loss, but when he put that similarity with all the others, he felt goose bumps run down his arms. Maybe there was something to her idea that the lightning had brought them together for a reason.

  Or maybe her craziness was rubbing off on him. He usually relied on his brain not his emotions. In fact, he preferred not to have too many emotions. In the past, they'd always messed up his life. So he'd chosen logic and reason, which made his life more solid, less unpredictable.

  Perhaps a little boring…

  Had he gotten complacent? Had he started to turn into his grandfather, a man who had never done anything on a whim in his life? Had he turned so far away from his father and his father's values that he'd lost all the color, all the excitement, all the joy?

  That was a disturbing thought.

  What was also disturbing was that he was even questioning his life. He'd thought everything was pretty damn good until he'd come back to Florida.

  That had certainly changed.

  His thoughts turned back to David. He had had no idea that David's father had been in the Navy, or that he'd been injured, or that Liliana had looked into the case.

  But even if David and Liliana had hated each other, so what? Liliana wouldn't have tried to stop her sister's wedding. Unless…

  Was there something she'd found out about David? But what could she have found out? That David was cheating on her sister? That his business wasn't on the up-and-up, that he was a liar? What?

  He could be completely off base. Maybe she hadn't wanted his advice. Perhaps she'd just wanted to see him and thought those few days would be their best chance at catching up in person for years to come.

  That seemed more likely.

  One thing he'd always known about Liliana was that she was headstrong. She went after things. She didn't wait for someone else to take action; she stepped up when she needed to. If she thought her sister was making a terrible mistake, she would have said so.

  Unless, she hadn't had the chance. Which brought him back to David being a person of interest, at least in his mind. He needed to find out more about the man.

  Shivering, he stepped out of the shower and dried off. He dressed and then headed back into the living room, ready to get to work.

  Alicia wasn't sitting at the kitchen table anymore, nor was she looking at her computer. She was stretched out on the couch and fast asleep.

  He sat down in the armchair across from her and smiled to himself at the pretty picture she made. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders. Her cheeks were pink, her lips slightly parted as she breathed in and out, her soft breasts moving with each inhale and exhale.

  There was a part of him that really wanted to lie down next to her and dream whatever dream was making her look so peaceful. She'd managed to escape the anxiety and tension of the past twenty-four hours. He wished he could do the same.

  But he was awake now. And he couldn't undo the cold shower he'd just taken, so he turned her computer toward him and decided to do a little digging himself.

  He went onto various social media sites, looking for personal photos and information. He finally got lucky when he linked through mutual friends to find David's personal profile.

  He flipped through the photographs, many of which had been taken during the past year: the engagement party, bachelor party and other wedding-related events.

  He scrolled down the page, clicking on the previous year. He wanted to go further back in time. He didn't know exactly when David and Isabel had gotten together, but he thought it had only been a year ago. He distinctively remembered someone telling him that they'd fallen in love hard and fast.

  Sure enough, there was David getting cozy with a redhead a year and a half ago, and there were other photos of women and friends that he didn't recognize. He was beginning to realize that in his mind David had just been an appendage, Isabel's fiancé. He hadn't thought much about who he was outside of that role.

  David loved hunting and fishing. He apparently spent a great deal camping as well, which surprised him. Isabel didn't seem like much of an outdoor girl.

  But wh
at did any of it mean? Nothing, as far as he could tell.

  He clicked through several more photos, his breath catching in his throat when he saw David standing in a bar with another man. They were raising their beer glasses to the camera and appeared to be very good friends. "Damn," he said aloud.

  "What?" Alicia woke up with a start, jolting into a sitting position, her eyes dazed and startled. "Did you say something?"

  "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

  She blinked a few times, then said, "I didn't realize I fell asleep."

  "You were out like a light."

  She ran a hand through her hair, tucking the strands behind her ears. "What are you looking at?"

  "A picture of David Kenner." He turned the computer screen around, so she could see the photograph of the two men holding beers at a sports bar. "Look who he's with—Brad Harte."

  Her jaw dropped. "They're friends?"

  "Looks like it. I'm surprised. Harte is at least nine or ten years older than David. This was taken over a year ago."

  Alicia stared back at him with puzzled brown eyes. "What does it mean?"

  "I have no idea, but we just came up with another question to ask Brad."

  Nine

  Two hours later, Michael had come up with quite a few more questions he wanted to ask Brad, but first Brad had to show up. They'd arrived at Javier's, a trendy, touristy bar in South Beach ten minutes before eight and it was now almost eight thirty. They were already finishing up their first round of drinks, mostly because they were both impatient for the time to pass.

  "I don't think Brad is going to show," Alicia said, running her finger around the rim of her wine glass as she scanned the crowd.

  "Let's give him a little more time."

  He lifted his beer bottle to his lips and took a swig. If Harte didn't show up, Michael didn't know what the next move would be. They would have to go to David, but that wouldn't be easy. If they started asking him questions, the Valdez family would no doubt circle the wagons around him.