He sat on the foot of her chaise and said, “I remembered how much you used to like your spa visits.”
“I do appreciate it.” Well, this is awkward. And he doesn’t seem to feel it at all?
“Have you had lunch?”
“No. I was going to catch something quick at the pool bar because I’m going to have my hair done before Mr. Montoya’s cocktail party tonight.”
“Run upstairs and change. I’ll meet you in the lobby restaurant in thirty minutes.”
“I don’t have anything to wear. I have only the dress I bought for tonight,” Libby said. “How about the pool bar?”
“I think you’ll find something,” he smiled as he rose to leave. “See you in thirty.”
“What are you up to?” She stood and called after him.
He turned and smiled before disappearing up the stairs in a splash of gray.
• • •
In her room, she found a bright, floral sundress hanging on the bathroom door. A bag from the gift shop was attached to the hanger. She opened the bag and held up a strapless bra that hooked in the front.
“I wonder which shop girl helped him with this.”
For an instant, she felt the least little bit of guilt about taking these gifts from Tony but immediately put those thoughts aside.
After a quick yet awkward shower with her hand wrapped in a plastic bag, she slipped on the new dress and turned to give herself one last look in the mirror. Though her hair was a curly mess, she liked what she saw.
Just before she left her room, she checked her phone and saw she had a new message from Jack.
Stay out of trouble. C U 2moro
When she arrived at the restaurant, Tony’s handsome face broke into a familiar smile. He was waiting for her at a corner table with a glorious view of the beach and the garden. Red, yellow and blue beach umbrellas with the hotel logo were positioned over beach chairs to her right, and to her left, the view included the lush tropical garden path that led towards the pool. Just like the old Tony, he had chosen the best location in the room.
“You look beautiful,” he said, pulling out her chair. “The dress looks great.”
“You are spoiling me,” she said, taking in the view.
“You deserve it,” he said, taking the seat across from her.
The restaurant was about half full with hotel guests dressed in resort wear, as well as some diners who were professionally dressed and doing business over lunch. Tony had taken the liberty of ordering a chicken salad luncheon, which was served almost immediately after she sat down.
“I know your time is short before your salon appointment,” he said.
As they ate, their lunch conversation was light, as though two friends were catching up after a long absence, less awkward and even friendly. But Libby was still wary. Tony always had an end game. She was resisting his charms, and he could be beyond charming with those soft brown eyes fringed with long lashes in which any red-blooded woman could lose herself and her good senses. His conversation was friendly but bordering on flirting. Libby could flirt with the best of them, but she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.
“This is wonderful, Tony,” she said, as a young attractive female server began to clear the table. She watched the server and wondered if one of the job requirements to work at this hotel was that the applicant had to be gorgeous. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“I’m happy I could help. It’s been so good to see you again,” he said, leaning towards her.
“It’s almost time for my salon appointment,” she said, placing her napkin on the table.
“You have a few minutes.” He placed his hand over hers, as if to stop her from going. “Do you think Pilar will be all right? She hardly said a word during the flight home last night.”
Sliding her hand from under his, she said, “I’m sure it will take some time for her to process the kidnapping and what happened with Richard, but I think she’ll be all right.”
“What’s going to happen to the guys who did this?” He asked.
“What do you think?” She responded, sitting back in her chair. “You were a defense attorney.”
“I’m not privy to the information and evidence that you are, but depending on the evidence, and what the client says, I would most likely make a deal, probably go for a lighter sentence in exchange for testimony. If there’s information to sell, I would think that Witness Protection is certainly a possibility.”
“I’m hoping for Witness Protection.”
“Really…so this guy must be the middleman.”
“That’s what it appears to be.”
“Do you know anything about who they’re working for?”
“Not really.” This conversation was going where she didn’t want to go. She still didn’t trust him. “What’s it to you?”
He shrugged and took a drink of water. “Just wondering. I miss being in the thick of things, and I like the Montoyas. Pilar is a nice girl, and I’m sorry she got hurt.”
“Yeah. Me, too,” Libby said, rising to leave. “I really must go. I’ve got to get something done with this hair.” She held up her bandaged hand. “This bum hand is putting a crimp in my style.”
He stood and said, “Be in the lobby at six. I’ll drive.”
Chapter 33
Wednesday Evening – Coral Gables
The Montoya’s Party
Libby walked through the hotel’s expansive, ornate, art deco lobby wearing the short, low cut black dress, her Jimmy Choos, on loan from Pilar, quietly clicking on the marble floors, and her wild, red curls flat-ironed into submission. She felt a little bit like Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman,” and could feel more than one set of eyes watching her.
Libby knew she was the object of hotel gossip. During her salon appointment, the hairdresser and nail technician were both pumping her for information about Tony. It was only human nature, and he, of course, was their boss, good-looking and single. They had a natural curiosity about this woman from his past who suddenly appeared.
She gave vague answers to their questions and was sure the ladies were frustrated because they weren’t able to glean more information to share at their next coffee break.
Tony was standing at the concierge desk speaking with the uniformed man on duty, no doubt getting an update or giving instructions. He had changed from his manager suit to more casual lightweight trousers and sports coat.
She couldn’t help but admire the view.
When he turned her way, she noticed it took a second glance for him to recognize her. The look on his face made her smile. She hadn’t dressed up like this in a long time. It felt good, as did the admiring glances.
• • •
The Montoyas lived in Coral Gables, an upscale Miami neighborhood. When Tony pulled his Mercedes up to the open gate, the magnificence of the white, two-story, French colonial-inspired mansion made Libby’s jaw drop.
Tony stopped, allowing the car in front of him to pull forward to the waiting valet under the covered portico.
“He got all this by selling Cuban sandwiches?” She asked.
“He didn’t always live in Coral Gables, you know,” Tony said. “He’s the American dream. Poor Cuban immigrant started with one food truck where he and his wife did all the cooking. Then, after a few years, he added more trucks going throughout the city. Over the years, he expanded into investing in hotels and other businesses.”
To Libby, the situation continued to sound more and more like The Godfather. “And where do you fit in?”
“I’m just an employee in one of the hotels.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he said as he pulled forward. “Don’t let that imagination of yours get carried away.”
If this were the movie, she thought, he’d be the Robert Duvall character, the Godfather’s lawyer and trusted advisor.
As the valet drove away with Tony’s car, Javier Montoya greeted Tony and Libby with hugs and kisses on each check.
&
nbsp; Stepping into the foyer, Libby’s eyes grew wide at the cool, off-white room accented with floor tiles in varied shades of light gray.
“Welcome to our humble home,” Mr. Montoya said.
Libby watched his arm as it swept upward towards a curved staircase to the right, the black filigree iron railing a striking contrast to the light walls. To her left was a formal dining room where ivory covered high backed chairs circled a large wooden table. Straight ahead, she saw open French doors at the end of a hall where, in the distance, there was a glimpse of blue water.
The hallway ended in the living room where red and blue oriental rugs accented the whiteness of the room, and three sets of French doors opened onto a covered patio. Libby estimated about forty people were milling about or seated on wicker couches with plush cushions and cobalt blue accent pillows.
There were roving waiters with trays of shrimp, champagne and other tidbits to eat and drink. Libby heard piano music coming from her left but couldn’t see who was playing or exactly where the piano was located.
Ahead of her, Pilar was standing with an older woman whom she assumed was her mother. Pilar smiled and waved. Libby returned the wave, but before she could move towards her, Mr. Montoya took a glass of champagne from one tray, a serving spoon from another and clanged the spoon against his glass.
“Attention. Attention,” Montoya called. The music and chatter trickled into silence except for the distant roar of a boat motor. “The guest of honor is here. May I present Miss Elizabeth Marshall, the woman who saved our Pilar and helped bring her home to the arms of her loving family.”
The crowd burst into applause. Libby looked up at Tony who was smiling and clapping along with everyone else. She felt awkward and embarrassed. This was not her idea of a cocktail party with a few friends. It was a set-up designed for them to make an entrance by putting her on display, and she didn’t like being on display.
“For her bravery in rescuing Pilar.” Montoya put his hand over his chest, and his voice cracked a little bit. “I am happy to present her the reward…a check for fifty thousand dollars. Thank you so much from the bottom of our hearts.”
As the guests applauded, Mrs. Montoya rushed weeping to Libby’s side, grabbing her into a bear hug and kissing her cheeks. Mrs. Montoya was in her mid to late sixties, short and round with salt and pepper hair arranged in a stylish updo. She had undoubtedly been a knock-out in her day and, looking from Mr. Montoya to Mrs. Montoya, Libby immediately knew where Pilar got her beauty.
She took Libby by the elbow and said, “Come. I must introduce you to your new family. You are now one of our own. You can do this business with my husband later.”
Libby looked towards Tony for help. He just waved and smiled, offering no help, at all. She gave him her “I’m going to get you for this” look, but it went ignored as he raised his champagne flute in a toast and then leaned towards Mr. Montoya as he spoke. Libby couldn’t hear their conversation, but she sure would have liked to know what was said.
Over the next hour, the Montoyas introduced Libby to numerous aunts, uncles, cousins and business associates. None of whom she ever expected to remember, much less meet again. The introductions of Tia-this and Tio-that immediately went in one ear and out the other. Many of them felt inclined to share a beloved Pilar story or lament on what would have happened if she had not been rescued from the bad men.
Libby smiled, nodded and tried not to wince when an enthusiastic guest inadvertently grasped her injured hand.
After the initial round of introductions, Mrs. Montoya became involved in a conversation solely in Spanish and let go of Libby’s arm. Libby saw this as an opportunity to escape and take a closer look at the breath-taking surroundings.
The house sat in the middle of a lot that had water frontage on two sides – the bay and a canal that flowed into it. There was a boat dock on the canal side. The covered patio opened onto the pool area. Areas normally used for sunbathing were set up for seating with small tables arranged around the pool. People standing precariously close to the pool engaged in lively conversation, drinks in hand. Libby smiled and wondered how many guests had fallen into the pool after a few too many drinks.
She closed her eyes and allowed the warm sea breeze to embrace her, a welcome relief from the humidity and heat of a South Florida August day.
Realizing her glass was empty, she went in search of a refill. To her left, at the far end of the patio, she noticed an outdoor kitchen. She started in that direction, wondering if they had a Corona hidden behind the granite countered bar.
As she walked towards the bar area, she looked up and saw that there was a balcony on the second floor. Pilar was standing at the railing, appearing to be lost in thought, looking out to sea. She looked sad, so Libby waved to get her attention.
“I’ll be right down,” Pilar called to her.
“I’ll be at the bar,” Libby said, motioning towards the bar with her empty glass.
Libby slid onto the bar stool and smiled at the bartender. He looked about twenty-five and wore a brightly colored guayabera. According to the tag pinned to his shirt, his name was “Sean.”
“Hi, Sean. You wouldn’t happen to have a Corona behind this bar, would you?”
“I think I can find one,” he said, before reaching into a cooler below the counter. He set a dripping, cold bottle on the counter and opened it. “Lime?” He asked.
“Of course.”
He inserted the lime, wiped off the bottle with a bar towel and slid it in her direction.
She pushed the lime down inside the bottle, took a sip, savored the taste and said, “I needed that.”
“You’re the guest of honor, right?”
“So it seems.”
“Did you get that during the rescue?” He asked, gesturing towards her bandaged hand.
“Just a little mishap with a knife.” Wanting to steer the conversation in another direction, she said, “This is such a lovely place.
“Yes, it is. One of the reasons I enjoy working these parties – the view.”
“Do you work many of the Montoya parties?”
“Yes, I work for Montoya Catering,” he said wiping down the bar. “When Mr. Montoya likes you, you get asked back. Cross him…you’re fired.”
“So he’s a hard man to work for?”
“Don’t get me wrong. They’re wonderful people.” He looked around, as if to see who was within earshot. “But stay on their good side.”
“I’ll remember that,” she said, taking another drink of beer.
“It’s not that you have anything to worry about. You’re golden. Montoya loves Pilar more than life itself. You, my friend, can do no wrong.”
“I was in the right place at the right time. That’s all.”
“Don’t tell him that.”
A young waitress appeared at the edge of the bar with a drink order. As Sean filled the order, Libby turned towards the sea and wondered about the missing flash drive. If Mr. Montoya wanted to get revenge on the people who kidnapped Pilar, the information on the flash drive could help him identify who was involved and allow him to track them down…but then what? Kill them? Make them pay in other ways for what they did?
“There’s going to be a nice sunset tonight,” Pilar said as she slid into the chair next to Libby. “But I do like the sunsets on the west coast so much better, though, the sunrises here are breathtaking.”
“Pilar, your home is so beautiful. I could sit here and look out to sea all night.”
“My parents’ home is lovely. It’s not my home anymore. I was making my home in Mariposa Beach, but I’m not sure if I can ever go back there.”
“I’m so sorry about – ”
“Let’s go for a walk,” she interrupted, sliding off her chair and motioning for Libby to follow her.
Libby set her beer on the counter and followed Pilar down the steps towards a small gazebo to the side of the house that was partially obscured by a large bougainvillea bush.
As they
settled into a wooden swing facing the water, Pilar said, “I’m sorry to pull you away, but I didn’t want to talk in front of anyone. I’m just having a hard time, and I’m not ready to talk to my parents about it.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I have to work through this myself.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “I feel so guilty about Richard. It’s all my fault.”
“Pilar Montoya, don’t you say that. You didn’t kill him. Terrence did, and he’s going to prison for it.”
“But if I hadn’t mistakenly picked up that damn flash drive and looked at it, everything would have all been all right.”
“You don’t know that. Who’s to say what would or would not have happened?
“Perhaps, but I just can’t shake these feelings of guilt.”
“Have you talked to Richard’s parents?”
“I barely know what to say. I’m sure they blame me. If I were in their shoes, I would. He was their only child. He was their hope for the future. He gets involved with me, and he’s killed.”
In the glow of the sunset, Libby could see tears glistening on Pilar’s beautiful face. “Were you in love?” She whispered, a catch in her throat.
“I thought I was falling in love with him. He was so different from what I grew up with. My family is so loud, and there are so many of us. He was quiet and tender and sensitive. I liked who I was when I was with him, away from my family, and it was just the two of us.”
“Is there going to be a service?”
“Yes, but I don’t know if I should go.”
“If you decide to go, and want some support, just call me.” Libby leaned forward and placed her hand on Pilar’s arm. “I’ll go with you.”
Pilar put her hand on top of Libby’s and said, “Thank you so much. I will. I promise.”
“What happened to your cousin that helped you get the job? Did he know this whole money laundering thing was going on?”
Murder in Mariposa Beach Page 20