Fierce Pride

by Phoebe Conn

  Josue Vargas checked in with them as promised. “There’s no sign of a break-in. Someone knew the security code, or there’s a flaw in the company’s service. You should consider switching companies. I’ll send you a copy of my report for your insurance firm.”

  “Have there been other cases of arson near here?”

  Vargas pursed his lips thoughtfully. “A couple of ridiculous attempts for insurance money, but nothing close to you. Neither involved disabling the security system. Most fires are due to accidents or carelessness, not arson.”

  Santos thanked him, and he left, leaving them at a loss for answers. “You likened Patricia to a sieve. Could she have gotten the code from Maggie and passed it along to someone?”

  “To Victoria? Yes, but Maggie is smart enough not to give it to her. Where do you suppose she and Rafael have gone?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me his plans, but I asked him to call in, and he hasn’t.”

  “Now I’m worried. Call Maggie and see if she answers, but don’t tell them about the fire.”

  Maggie answered on the first ring. He could hear Rafael laughing in the background. “I wanted to make certain you two are all right.”

  “Of course we are. How are you and Libby?”

  “We’re busy. I’m tired of being on crutches, and she’s working to distract me.”

  “That’s good. We’ll see you soon.”

  “One last thing. I’ll probably change the security code before you come home. Did you give it to anyone in your family?”

  “No. What’s missing?”

  “Nothing, I’m just trying to do a better job of taking care of things.”

  He ended the call. “She didn’t share the code. They’re safe, and if they don’t pick up any of the tabloids, it will look as though we are too.”

  She frowned and rubbed her temple. “Could the problem be with the security company?”

  “I’ll ask when their man gets here. If someone is leaking codes there, they’ll be out of business soon.”

  “They deserve to be.”

  The elevator repairman took one look at what was left of the elevator and sent for his supervisor. After a thorough inspection, the supervisor shook his head sadly. “The elevator must be replaced. Parts are no longer available, and I’d not recommend repairing such an old model even if parts could be found. Would you like me to prepare an estimate?”

  “Yes, please,” Santos replied. The wood paneling had been as intricately inlaid as a jewel box. Now all that remained were the blackened steel walls.

  He hobbled back to his place on the living room sofa. “We’re lucky the fire didn’t damage more of the house.”

  “That’s one way to look on the bright side.” Libby curled up on the opposite end of the sofa.

  “I don’t dare be otherwise. There’s a dark strain running through the Aragon family, and I won’t be part of it.”

  “People don’t have a choice. Depression is a disease.” She recalled his mother’s death as a probable example. “Exercise affects your mood. So does sunshine. Let’s go out on the patio.”

  “Bring the papers.” He grabbed the arm of the sofa and rose on his own. Once seated at the round table, he began comparing the photos of the fire with their view. “It just occurred to me our fire bug may have stayed on the beach to take photos he planned to sell.”

  “Photos usually have a credit. Is the photographer’s name given?”

  “No, but I’ll have Cazares look into it. I thought I’d have heard from him by now.”

  She sat forward in her chair. “Could something have happened to him?”

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called him. Relief washed over his face as Javier answered. Their conversation was brief. “He’s just finished printing the photos he took yesterday, and he’ll be here within the hour.”

  “Good.” She shaded her eyes with her hand and searched for a familiar face on the beach. “I don’t see Victoria.”

  “Maybe she was on vacation and went home.”

  “I don’t think so. There was something so, well, theatrical about her. Patricia makes friends easily, but Victoria might have targeted her to begin with.”

  “I didn’t like her,” he stressed.

  “I didn’t either.”

  “No, you don’t understand. She was a beautiful woman, but not my type.”

  “I wasn’t jealous,” she countered, disappointed she’d apparently fallen into his favorite category of women through no effort on her own.

  “No, of course not.”

  His rakish grin made her laugh. “I’m here for the summer, Santos. Like whomever you please. I’ll be gone soon.” That was the way she was going to keep it, even if she did have to remind both of them often.

  Javier Cazares arrived with a manila folder. “I photographed the protesters while the excitement of people entering the arena would cover it. Later, I pretended to be sympathetic to the cause. I didn’t want to be accused of interrogating them, but those I spoke to appeared sincere.” He laid the photos on the glass-topped table. “Do any of these people look familiar to you?”

  Santos picked up the first photo and passed it over to Libby. “I’ve ignored them, so I can’t say if this is the same crowd that usually hugs that corner.” He stopped on the fourth photo. “Is this Victoria?”

  Libby leaned close. Her pose and long, black hair were impossible to mistake. “Yes, but she’s standing back, not yelling or waving a placard. She could have just been passing by. Did you speak to her?”

  Cazares pointed to the man beside her. “I made a brief attempt, but he blocked my way. When I asked him if he thought the group was making progress, he sneered at me, and I moved on. I’ve no desire to confront a man who’s half my age and lifts weights before breakfast.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Santos sorted through the other photos. “May I keep these? If I see someone from this crowd somewhere else, I want to recognize them.”

  “Of course. The group meets tomorrow night. I’ll go and see what I can discover about the woman. Her name may or may not be Victoria.”

  “She moves like a dancer,” Libby remarked. “That would be a way to find her, wouldn’t it?”

  Cazares responded with a rare smile. “Yes, a beautiful dancer would want to be found. I’ll do my best. Is there anything else?”

  Santos glanced toward Libby and shrugged. “Well, yes, we did have a little trouble last night.”

  Cazares listened with increasing horror. “You must change the locks immediately. I’ll call a locksmith who carries a brand that’s nearly impossible to pick. He’ll also upgrade the dead bolts. As for security, I’ll check the main panel. People are very clever with electronics, but there would be evidence left behind.”

  After he left them, Libby continued studying the photos. “The outfit she’s wearing looks familiar. I wonder if she could have bought it at the boutique where Maggie shopped. Do you mind if I take the photo and go and ask? I’ll make it sound as though I’m interested in the dress, not Victoria.”

  “Go ahead, but first will you please bring my Stephen King book from my room?”

  She got up and kissed him on her way into the house and when she came back. “I won’t be gone long. I’ll take my purse so it will look as though I’m really shopping.”

  She moved across the sand with a determined grace. He couldn’t see her without wanting her. He meant to open his book, but his gaze remained on her until she had vanished in the distance.

  Libby entered the boutique expecting to find the friendly clerk who’d helped them last week, but a petite redhead stood at the counter. “Hi, is Carmela here?”

  The clerk leaned close to whisper, “She found a better job. I’m Abigail. May I find something for you?”

  Libby had counted on Carmela remembering her. It would have made things so much easier. “Hi, Abigail. A friend of mine took photos at the bullfights yesterday, and this woman was wearing a dress I thought I’d seen here. I wo
ndered if you had it in my size?”

  Abigail took the photo and squinted slightly, then pulled her glasses from her pocket. “I need to get contacts. We might have one on the sale rack, but I don’t believe it’s in your size. Let’s look. Maybe you’ll see something else you like.”

  Libby reached for the photo. “It’s just that it’s so cute on this girl.”

  “Everything looks cute on Victoria. She’d be a model if she were taller.” She looked up at Libby. “You’re a model, aren’t you?”

  “No, but I’m considering it. Does Victoria come in often?”

  “She used to work here and comes in once in a while. She had a tremendous crush on Miguel Aragon, the matador, and heard he lived near here. He had a heart attack and died a month or so ago, and she wept as though he’d been part of her family. His son Santos is nearly as hot, butis sHisHiHis son is nearly I like to know that when my man goes to work, he’ll be coming home for dinner.”

  “So do I,” Libby agreed. “Victoria looks familiar. Maybe we’ve met. Do you know her last name?”

  “Rubio, but I don’t know where she’s working now.”

  There was an extra-large size of the dress in question on the rack. Libby wouldn’t have to try it on and make up an excuse not to buy it. That was a relief. “I don’t really have time to shop now, but I’ll come in again soon.”

  “Please do. I work on commission.”

  Libby walked down the beach until she’d passed the tourist shops, then pulled off her sandals and jogged along the damp sand at the shore to the Aragon house. She dropped into her seat and startled Santos so badly he lost his place in his book.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.” She set the photo on the table. “Her name is Victoria Rubio, and she used to work at the boutique. Apparently she had a crush on your father, so it seems odd she’d join an anti-bullfighting demonstration. Has Mr. Cazares left?”

  “No, he’s still here, but you did miss the insurance adjuster. Cazares didn’t find anything wrong with the security panel, and now he’s checking all the windows and doors. I’ll ask him to find out all he can about Victoria. She was so friendly the day Rafael and I met her. Apparently it was an act.”

  “Maybe we’re reading too much into the photo. Maybe she was waiting to cross the street.”

  “I don’t think so. Juan called. He’s bringing over more fan mail.”

  “Did he say it was bad?”

  “I don’t believe the expression he used translates well.”

  Her heart fell. She didn’t want to see anything even remotely as awful as the eyeless drawing, but she wouldn’t be able not to look. “Okay, so we’ve been warned. Is it time for lunch?”

  Santos checked his watch. “No, but that’s no reason not to eat. Ask Tomas to bring us some fruit or whatever you’d like.”

  The elevator supervisor joined them before she could leave the table. “I’ve prepared an initial estimate for a residence elevator of a similar size. I’ll need to go up on the roof and—”

  “The roof!” Santos exclaimed. “We forgot about the roof. Is there an entryway for the elevator shaft someone could have opened to enter the house?”

  “Yes, but it should have been secure.”

  Santos pulled a business card from his pocket. “I’ll have the arson investigator check. He’s the one gathering evidence. I doubt the security company thought of wiring it into the alarm system.”

  “They should do it now. I’ll wait for the arson investigator to clear the roof before we go up there. Give me a call when it’s clear. I’ll mail you a written estimate.”

  “Thank you, I will,” Santos said.

  Libby waited for the elevator supervisor to leave before she sat forward on her chair. “While we were at the bullfights, someone could have driven up in a workman’s van, used a ladder and climbed up on the roof. No one would have paid any attention if they’d seen him.”

  Santos nodded. A high wall separated the far side of the house from the neighbors, and whoever had broken in could have left the ladder in place, relaxed on the roof and enjoyed the ocean view until it was time to set the fire. “Someone entering from the roof could have jumped down into the elevator and gone down the back stairs to get the trashcan. Every kitchen has one. There would be time before the fire was discovered for him to climb down the ladder, return it to his van and drive away.”

  “I’ll find Cazares, and we’ll look outside,” Libby offered. The detective sat on a step near the bottom of the staircase in the foyer, writing in his notebook. “Excuse me.” She explained their latest thoughts. “Will you come outside with me and see if we can find any trace of a ladder used to reach the roof?”

  He rose with a slight sway and shoved his notebook into his pocket. “I was concentrating on the windows, not the ground. I may have inadvertently trampled whatever evidence there might have been.”

  “Let’s hope not.” She swung the door open and led the way around the side of the house. Not wanting to search on her hands and knees though the foliage for clues, she skirted the bordering flowerbeds.

  The detective stood back. “They’d not have placed the ladder near a window where it would be noticed. And they couldn’t have used too steep an angle, so if they entered from the roof, they should have propped the ladder out here on the sandy path near the wall.”

  They moved along slowly. “There, do you see it?” Cazares asked. “Someone kicked the sand to cover the ladder’s tracks, but once you know what you’re looking for, it’s easy to find.”

  “Is that the secret of detective work?”

  He shrugged. “It’s one of them, but perseverance is the key to most success, no matter what the field.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  They returned to the patio, and she listened carefully as Cazares described what they’d found. “We didn’t disturb the scene. Will the arson inspector be here soon?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t sound pleased that I’d called. The alarm company should be here this afternoon. Apparently we should have run an occasional test of the system, and I don’t believe anyone here ever did.”

  “Would that have been Mrs. Lopez’s job, or Tomas’s?” Libby asked.

  “Neither of them thought to do it. I’m going to give the job to Manuel. He’s the only one with the skill to do it well.”

  Cazares glanced around to make certain they wouldn’t be overheard. “Are you sure he’s trustworthy?”

  “Positive. He’s worked for us for years.”

  “Good, but it’s difficult to know every aspect of an employee’s life,” Cazares offered. “There can be personal problems of which you’re unaware.”

  “I’m not running background checks on people I’ve known most of my life,” Santos countered. “Let me know what you discover at the protesters’ meeting tomorrow night.”

  “I will. I’ll wait for the locksmith. If entry was actually made through the roof, we may not need to change the locks, but it might be wise to do so anyway.”

  “I think you’re right. Thank you.” Santos waited until he was gone to speak. “Was I too hard on him?”

  “No, but his job is to look beyond the obvious for clues. He doesn’t know Manuel or the others who work for you like you do.”

  Santos was silent a long moment. “I know there’s a Mr. Lopez, but if he’s ever come here to drive Mrs. Lopez home, I’ve not met him. I don’t know Tomas’s wife, and while Manuel is more of an uncle than an employee, I don’t know what he does with his free time, other than being an avid soccer fan. My employees’ private lives will remain their own business, not mine.”

  His troubled frown made his discomfort plain. “You’re right,” Libby said. “Privacy is important in any relationship, and you trust the people here. Now I have to have something to eat.”

  In few minutes, she reappeared with a ceramic bowl filled with fresh fruit and a plate of small pastries. “These are so good. Has Thomas been baking them long?”

  S
antos eyed the puffed pastry topped with cherries. “They were one of my favorites when I was a child. He must want to offer all the comfort he can.”

  Libby took another. “I feel comforted already.” He leaned over to take a bite of hers and licked his lips. She felt warm all over. His unshakable confidence shone in his dark eyes, and she was so easily lost in him, the pastries could wait. “The house is filled with people. Could we hide in the Hispano-Suiza?”

  He moaned softly. “That’s exactly what I want to do, but I don’t want the arson investigator to come looking for us. Please go read on the beach, or go shopping, or go for a walk and give me time to handle everything that has to be done. Then, I’ll meet you in the car.”

  She took the last bite of the pastry, picked up an orange and looked over her shoulder with a sultry smile as she walked away. “I’ll never want to be in your way.”

  Santos nearly slid out of his chair. With Libby there, he didn’t care if the house burned down.

  Chapter Ten

  As she walked along the shore, Libby bounced the orange between her hands. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep up the sex-kitten routine, and while it was fun, it was playing a part rather than being true to herself. But nothing was real here. Santos was a dream man Spanish women idolized but few had the opportunity to actually meet. She’d gone much further and taken up residence in his magical house for the time being. She’d never had a relationship with an expiration date, and it saddened her she did now.

  Before she realized how far she’d walked, she reached the marina. She moved up on the sand to a bench to eat the orange and watched the boats sailing along the horizon. Gliding over the sea, they were as beautiful as swans. Santos’s knee would keep them on land, but she wished they could have gone sailing again. It was easy to forget anything else existed while on the water.