The disappointment she felt was surprising in its intensity. Aletheia stared at Roman for way too long, maybe half a second, before her obligations rushed back like a freight train. Aunt Rosa was on the roof. Besides, Aletheia didn't, herself, own anything Felix Roman wanted to buy, at least not for the price she needed: fifty thousand dollars.
"There's an emergency at home," she told him. "I have to go."
She saw his gaze sharpen as she whirled toward Brad.
"Call Patty," Aletheia ordered her barista. "See if she can back you up. Don't know when I'll be back."
"Will do," Brad answered.
Urgent now, Aletheia jerked at the tie of her black apron as she turned toward the rear of the store. Her car was parked in the alley.
Unbelievably, she heard Felix Roman say, "I'll follow you."
"What?!" Aletheia whirled back again, but Roman was already out her front door. "What?" she asked again, but she spoke to thin air. He was fast disappearing from view out the front window.
Oh, it didn't matter, Aletheia told herself, turning and running now toward the back door. No way could the man get to his car in time, then track her up the series of winding mountain roads. But she felt decidedly off-balance as she climbed into her trusty Jeep.
If anyone could manage it, she had a feeling it would be Felix Roman.
Though she had no idea why he'd want to.
~~~
Felix had little trouble following his quarry up the winding mountain roads. When he was deeply focused on an objective, complications became simple, obstacles dropped away, opponents fell. He was deeply focused, all right.
He would find Benjamin Cooper.
Inside the hushed elegance of his rented car, Felix's eyes narrowed at the thought of Cooper, the saboteur. Mistakes did not happen on Felix's watch. Clients did not lose property. Government secrets did not go missing.
Emotions bubbled dangerously close to the surface: anger, shame, frustration. Turning the car easily over the steeply winding road, Felix ruthlessly shoved the feelings down. Emotions clouded judgment and threatened to rouse the dark side of his nature.
Felix never wanted that. Today less than usual. He needed to restore the good name of Morrison World Security, which was pretty much the same as restoring the good name of Felix Roman. After working his way up the ladder, Felix had bought the security consulting company from old man Morrison five years ago. He'd turned it into a top-notch concern, one that specialized in protecting the difficult and unusual. It was a company that, up until now, had held an exemplary record.
Felix's jaw set. He would get that record back. If that meant nabbing Dr. Cooper so the guy could fix what he'd wrecked, so be it. Felix would nab him.
He'd given his word to protect the property Cooper had destroyed—and Felix always kept his word. Honesty and integrity were qualities he'd struggled long and hard to attain. The world would never know how much like his father he actually was, underneath.
Up ahead, Aletheia's aged Jeep turned off the narrow road and jounced past a broken wooden gate. Felix gripped the wheel of the Lexus and followed after her.
A tiny smile edged his mouth. She was like a kitten compared to his wolf. Soft, defenseless...harmless. He could eat four of her type for breakfast.
Curiosity had prompted him to let her go through her sales pitch for the café. It was also an opportunity to learn more about her situation. But before Felix had been able to learn anything beyond the strange allure of Aletheia's hands—long, capable hands that moved energetically as she spoke—that local yokel had barged in.
One side of Felix's tiny smile grew. It had been a pleasure to send the fellow on his way. Indeed. When it came to a person getting what he wanted from Aletheia Cooper, Felix had first dibs.
Branches of overgrown eucalyptus towered overhead. Dusty undergrowth scratched at the car. Felix caught a glimpse of a roofline through the trees, something tall with broken jigsaw trim at the eaves.
Felix's half-smile moved to both sides of his mouth. There was clear financial distress here, an echo of the desperation behind Aletheia's sales pitch. Such could easily be turned to his advantage. If Aletheia knew where Benjamin Cooper was, Felix could make it worth her while to tell him.
The trees parted and the house came fully into view. It was a grand old Victorian in dire need of a paint job. As Felix drew up in an open, graveled area, he saw a group of people gathered on some matted grass before the house. They were all looking upward. His motion checked as he saw what they were looking at.
High on the ridge of a gable overlooking the lawn sat a female figure in a deck chair. She held a glass in one hand and a long cigarette holder in the other. One bony leg crossed casually over the other. A colorful umbrella perched over the ensemble. Felix wasn't sure, but he thought he heard tropical music floating over the scene.
In the name of all that was holy—
When Aletheia had said she had a family emergency, Felix had imagined a kid with a broken arm or a flood in the basement. Something normal. This—
Just looking at the woman on the roof sent adrenaline jolting through him.
Quickly pushing that emotion down too, Felix parked the car and joined the group on the lawn.
As his leather dress shoes crunched over the dried grass, Aletheia started, then turned to shoot him a glance.
Felix received a hit from her green-gold eyes. Those eyes observed him with a disconcerting level of interest. It was the type of interest, Felix decided, one might give a wild animal in its native habitat. The notion hit him even harder than her glance had. Did she guess what he was? Could she? The idea stirred him in a deep and novel way.
Aletheia turned back to gaze at the woman on the roof, as if her perilous situation were easier to contemplate than Felix.
"I can't believe she did it again," muttered a young man with shaggy, dark-blond hair. Over paint-splattered jeans he wore a kitchen apron, and the manly confidence to carry off such an ensemble.
"My sister Rosa has no more sense than a pigeon," snapped a withered old woman seated in a wheelchair. Behind her, a dark-haired girl crossed her arms over her chest in exact imitation of the old lady's posture.
"Well, she does have delusional psychosis," excused the man with shaggy hair.
"Huh!" said the old woman.
The dark-haired girl followed with her own, "Huh!"
"I was trying to watch her," claimed a tall, spindly fellow with glasses perched atop his balding head. "But you know what happens when I get deep into my equations."
A sigh escaped Aletheia. "Yes, Dad, I know."
A middle-aged, tubby guy with thick glasses started to cry. "I'm scared, Allie."
"Now, now. There's nothing to be afraid of." Aletheia put her arm around the crying man. "We'll get Aunt Rosa down. Not to worry."
Felix's eyes narrowed on Aletheia's hand resting atop the older man's shoulder. From the fellow's mannerisms, Felix was pretty sure he was developmentally disabled.
"So," asked Shaggy Hair, "what do you want to do?" It did not surprise Felix that the guy directed the question toward Aletheia rather than 'Dad.' Clearly, she was the one in charge of this madhouse.
Aletheia squinted up toward the roof. "Judging by the umbrella, she's probably imagining she's at the beach in Monaco again."
"That's got to be an improvement over the one where she thinks she's in the Alps," Shaggy Hair huffed. "You want to talk her inside, cuz? My soufflé is gonna be done in ten minutes."
Aletheia turned and met eyes with Shaggy Hair. The moment told Felix neither one of them thought it was going to be that easy. Probably they didn't want to further upset the guy who was crying.
"I'll back you up on the second floor balcony," Shaggy Hair told Aletheia quietly.
Felix studied the house. A gaily carved balcony sat beneath either side of the gable upon which Aunt Rosa perched. "There are two balconies where she might fall," he pointed out.
Shaggy Hair and Aletheia turned from thei
r contemplation of each other to stare at Felix.
He felt like staring at himself. Why had he mentioned that? This crazy situation wasn't his problem. Nevertheless, he could feel his jaw tense in determination. An old lady was on the roof. Something had to be done—and there was nobody else who could help that Felix could see. "I'll take the second balcony."
Aletheia's mouth opened. She was obviously surprised, and very probably threatened. It was clear they were used to pulling together here, solving their problems within their own tight-knit group. Besides she seemed to suspect Felix—or at least sense what he really was.
Too bad. Staring at her, he only grew more determined.
Meanwhile, Shaggy Hair relented. "I have no idea who you are, but you're on."
Sensing Shaggy Hair's say-so wasn't enough, Felix kept his challenging gaze on Aletheia. He hadn't intended to take this tack with her, showing his underlying aggression, but gravity wasn't going to wait for the dame on the roof.
Aletheia knew it, too. She surrendered with a curt nod. "Okay, you're here. You might as well be useful."
Hardly a gushing endorsement, but enough for the job.
"We'd better hurry," Shaggy Hair told Felix, as they both started, jogging, toward the front porch. "Who knows what'll happen if Aunt Rosa finishes her drink." He huffed a laugh. "She might decide to go for a swim."
Glancing up at the deck chair on the gable roof, Felix realized where a desire for a swim might put the old lady. "Let's run," he suggested.
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