by Phoebe Conn
“What decisions?” Maggie asked as she came back to the table.
“What’s to become of little Miguel Angel,” Libby replied.
“Rafael and I are hoping for a family.”
“You don’t want that kid,” Santos remarked sharply. “His mother has to be nuts.”
Libby exchanged glances with Maggie, and she nodded. Santos’s mother certainly had not been a model of sanity, but they’d not remind him of it.
Chapter Seventeen
Santos’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. “Yes?” He listened and soon ended the call. “Cazares says Luis Rubio just drove into the driveway with Fermin Ramirez. I don’t care what you see, Libby; if it’s a runaway horse or an overturned boat, you’re staying right here.”
“I’d no idea you were so bossy.” She sat with her feet propped on an empty chair reading the same page of Great Expectations over and over. “No, wait a minute. We have discussed it, haven’t we?”
“I swear I’m ready for a sweet convent-raised Spanish girl.”
Libby winked at him. “She wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.”
“Fun isn’t everything.”
She raised a brow, and he glanced away. “I thought so.” She looked out at the sea and fortunately didn’t see anyone calling for help. They waited and waited, with their only source of hope the lack of gunfire up the beach.
Santos yawned and got up to stretch. He pulled his phone from his pocket and called Cazares for a brief update. “Nuñez took Fermin and Luis Rubio into the house, and Cazares says they haven’t come out.”
“Luis has to be blaming Rigoberto Avila,” Libby said.
Maggie nodded. “I’d do the same thing if I were in his shoes.”
Santos looked down the beach, where a woman with short curly gray hair was rapidly approaching. She held a baby boy in her arms. He cursed under his breath. “Do you believe this?”
The attractive woman wore a pretty floral dress. The baby hung on to her collar with one hand and sucked his fingers with the other. “I’m so sorry to bother you. You are Santos Aragon, aren’t you?”
Santos nodded. The baby had shiny black hair and beautiful brown eyes. Libby thought he resembled Santos so closely he could have been his child rather than his father’s. She pulled a chair out for the woman. “Won’t you join us?”
“Thank you. I’m Beatriz Ramirez, and we live down the beach. I’ve never had such a frightening day, but from what I’ve overheard, Victoria and her father may have threatened you. You must have encountered other overly enthusiastic fans, but Luis and his daughter are such nice people, they couldn’t have meant you any harm.” She bounced the baby on her knee and made him giggle.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Santos cautioned. “We had to involve the police.”
“Is he Victoria’s son?” Maggie asked.
“Yes, isn’t he adorable? He’s the sweetest little thing. She’s never told me his father’s name, but apparently the man abandoned her. She’s had a difficult time managing on her own, and now the police have arrested her. However you’re involved, Mr. Aragon, I hope you’ll show compassion. Miguel Angel needs a mother who’s free to care for him.”
Santos leaned forward. “Mrs. Ramirez, I think you ought to go home. The detective handling the case must have told your husband why Victoria was arrested. Ask him to explain it to you.”
Libby stood and gestured toward the beach. “I’ll walk you home.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Maggie interjected. “Nuñez told us to stay put for the time being.”
“He told me to stay out of the way,” Beatriz added, “but little boys don’t know how to be quiet. That’s why I came here. I was hoping we could straighten out everything this afternoon so Victoria wouldn’t have to spend the night in jail.”
Santos pulled himself to his feet. “Someone tried to kill me, Mrs. Ramirez. Not once, but three times, so I’m all out of compassion. Please excuse me. I need to go in.”
Beatriz Ramirez’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. As Santos left, she looked to Libby and Maggie. “Kill him?” she asked incredulously. “Victoria and her father can’t be guilty of attempted murder.”
“Let’s leave the matter to the police,” Libby answered. “Why don’t you look after Miguel Angel and let them conduct their investigation.”
“This is terrible,” Beatriz replied, and the baby began to cry. “Oh, I’ve upset him. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Let me hold him,” Maggie asked. She got up to take the baby, and he looked up at her and stopped crying with a gulp. “Aren’t you a handsome little guy,” she cooed and walked him around the patio.
“Would you like something to drink?” Libby asked. “I would, and I’ll be happy to ask for something for you too.”
Beatriz sniffed back her tears. “A glass of water, please.”
Libby went into the kitchen, and Julian followed her out with three glasses of water and a plate of cookies. He smiled as he placed them on the table along with napkins. “Thank you,” Libby said. “The chef here makes the best cookies.” She took one.
Beatriz took a sip of water and twisted her hands in her lap. “My husband’s an attorney. If he’d been home when the police arrived, they wouldn’t have arrested Victoria.”
Maggie retook her chair and put Miguel Angel on her knee. “Do you know Carmen Aragon, Santos’s grandmother?”
“No. I knew this was Miguel Aragon’s home but never met him or his family. We have no friends in common. Santos is nearly as well-known as his father. Whoever wished him ill, I hope they’ll be caught soon, but Victoria and Luis can’t have anything to do with it.”
“Do you know her well?” Libby asked.
“We’ve watched her grow up. She lived with her mother but came by our home to visit her father from time to time. Luis is a kind, non-assuming man. He wouldn’t have anything to do with murder.”
“They’re both fortunate to have such a loyal friend,” Maggie complimented.
“I want to see if Santos needs anything. Will you excuse me?” Libby went inside and checked the den first. Santos was stretched out on the sofa with his arm thrown over his eyes.
He looked up. “You might as well come in.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep.” He moved his legs over. “Come sit with me.”
She sat by his feet and rested her arm along the back of the sofa. “Will your lawyer be able to handle the DNA testing so you can stay out of it?”
“He’ll handle whatever I pay him to do. That’s the way my world works.”
Libby pulled off his shoes to rub his feet. “Good, then you can stay out of it until decisions have to be made.”
“You mean I can pretend to stay out of it. This is splattered all over me. It’s a sad legacy for such a cute little boy.”
“He is cute, isn’t he?” She knew right where to rub to soothe his dark mood. “I’m glad I stayed with you when my family went home.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
He was wearing shorts, and she leaned over to kiss his left knee. “Damn, even your knees are handsome.”
“So it’s just my looks?”
“No, your looks wouldn’t be enough. It has to be more.”
“Tomas’s cooking?”
“You’ve caught me; that’s it. Although I like having the magic clothes hamper in my bathroom. Everything I put in it turns up clean and folded the next day.”
“You don’t have that same service at home?”
“No. The sorority house has washing machines in the basement, and I’m responsible for my own laundry.”
“What if I employed a terrible chef and had no maids to do your laundry?”
Libby enjoyed teasing him, but her true purpose was to keep him from becoming so depressed he wouldn’t speak to her. “I’d volunteer to cook and take my clothes to the Laundromat. Do they have them here?”
“I
think so. Now stop distracting me. I’m trying to decide what to do with Manuel.”
“I’m sorry. I’d forgotten about him.”
“Well, I can’t. There’s someone at the front door. Maybe it’s Nuñez finally.” He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, put on his shoes but left the laces untied.
Mrs. Lopez ushered in the detective. He looked even more annoyed than usual. His cheeks were nearly as bright a red as his hair and mustache. He opened his notebook and ruffled through the pages. “I’m giving you a report merely as a courtesy, Mr. Aragon. Victoria Rubio fled the Ramirez home as we entered. We would have apprehended her without your help, Ms. Gunderson. If you mistakenly believe you have other opportunities to aid the police during your stay in Spain, rethink them. Other than cursing us all, Victoria provided no useful information.
“Fermin Ramirez has become Luis and Victoria Rubio’s attorney. Other than to search the chauffeur’s apartment, we were unable to get any information from him. Luis would not even admit to knowing Rigoberto Avila. We will untangle this all soon, however.”
“Did the chauffeur have a rifle?” Libby asked.
“No, he did not, and Fermin Ramirez doesn’t own one.”
Libby left the sofa but moved away from the detective. “Rigoberto asked if I’d like to go sailing. Does the Ramirez family own a sailboat?”
“A sailboat?” Nuñez repeated. “That wasn’t among my questions.”
Santos remained seated. “Whoever shot at me could have done it from a boat. If Mrs. Ramirez is still here, you could ask her if they own one.”
“Mrs. Ramirez is here?” He nearly choked on the question.
“Let’s go see if she’s on the patio.” Libby led him out through the door behind the main staircase. “Yes, she’s still here.”
Beatriz rose when she saw the detective. “Have you come to arrest me now?” she asked crossly.
“No, of course not, Mrs. Ramirez. I was merely wondering if your family owns a boat.”
“We live on the shore,” she answered sarcastically. “Of course we own a boat. It’s moored at the marina.”
“Thank you. Let me walk you and the boy home before your husband begins to worry.”
“I would prefer to go alone.” She stood to take Miguel Angel from Maggie and walked across the sand the way she’d come.
The detective shoved his notebook into his pocket. “What a perfectly marvelous day.”
Libby bit her lip to keep from laughing, but she was only partially successful. When Santos made his way outside, she told him the Ramirez family did own a sailboat.
“Can you search it?” he asked Nuñez.
“Fermin Ramirez will have a say in it, I’m sure. Does your family attract problems like this one often?”
Santos leaned on his crutches and cocked his head. “Attempted murder is a rarity.” He glanced at Maggie, who was focused on the bracelets hiding her scars. “We are all grateful for it.”
“As well you should be. I’ll stay in touch.” He took the path around the side of the house to the street.
Libby slid into her chair and waited for Santos to take his chair. “Mr. Ramirez probably took Victoria sailing with his daughters. She could have told Rigoberto the gate code. He could have shot at you from the boat and left the rifle on board.”
“With Rigoberto dead, will the authorities search for proof of that?” Maggie asked.
Santos reached for Libby’s water glass and took a long drink. “I could send Cazares to the marina to watch for Fermin. He’d recognize him and I wouldn’t. But if Fermin took the boat out this afternoon and tossed the rifle into the sea, it would be gone.”
“That would be tampering with evidence,” Maggie pointed out. “Isn’t an attorney an officer of the court here?”
Santos lowered his voice. “We sent Carmen to a private hospital rather than report a murder attempt, so I’m not going to comment on anyone else’s approach to the law. Now what should I do with Manuel?”
“You’ve worried long enough,” Libby offered. “If you were going to fire him, you would have already done so. You must want him to stay, on your conditions, of course.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket, called the chauffeur and asked him to come to the den. “We don’t need an audience. I’ll talk to him there.” He wore a preoccupied frown as he left.
The sisters returned Manuel’s nervous smile as he walked by them to enter the house though the kitchen door. “Santos isn’t nearly as fierce as he’d like everyone to believe, is he?” Libby asked.
Maggie regarded her with a slow, knowing smile. “I’ll bet he can be fierce when he wants to be.”
“He certainly can, but a fierce passion is another thing entirely, and quite a wonderful thing. He’s spoiling me terribly. I wonder if he’d let me spend every summer here.”
“If that’s what you want, say so.”
“It ought to be his idea.”
“Who cares whose idea it is if you both want it?” Maggie stressed.
Libby looked out at the sea. “Santos has too many people asking him for things. He needs the space to find what he wants for himself.”
“That’s a good plan, I suppose, but if he doesn’t realize how badly he needs you, you ought to give him some broad hints.”
Libby smiled and thought she’d been doing it all along
Javier Cazares made his final report for the day when Santos was still in the den. “I’ve discovered Fermin Ramirez is a highly respected defense attorney. With his close ties to Victoria and her father, he’ll give them a vigorous defense, if they’re charged with a crime. They may not be. Rigoberto’s gruesome drawings were sent to you, but there’s no witness to prove he or Victoria held the mirror in the arena. The house was entered through the elevator shaft, but no evidence was found to identify who did it. Even if a rifle were found, it would have been thoroughly cleaned by now, and there would be no way to prove who fired at you. Ramirez will probably have Victoria released this afternoon, but she should have been so frightened by her arrest this morning, she’ll think of a better way to contact your family.”
“I doubt it. The only piece of evidence we have is the baby,” Santos replied. “I’ll insist upon a DNA test. If the boy is an Aragon, then I’ll threaten to sue for custody. That should convince her to leave me alone.”
“Do you want custody of the boy?”
“No, of course not.”
“Would anyone else in your family want to take him in?”
“I can’t see my aunt doing it, but my sister might. I’ll have to ask them. My father had children with four different women. A fifth is a complication we don’t need.”
“I understand. What did you decide about your chauffeur?”
“I’m keeping him, but I frightened him so badly with the threat of dismissal he’ll show more loyalty from now on.”
“I hope so,” Cazares responded. He closed his notebook and slipped it into his pocket. “If there’s nothing else you need, I’ll mail my final bill.”
“I hope this is the last of it.” Santos thanked him, but he had the uneasy feeling they weren’t anywhere close to being done.
Santos and Libby were eating a delicious roast chicken dinner that night, when Mrs. Lopez entered the dining room and announced through primly pursed lips, “A Mr. Fermin Ramirez is here. Will you see him?”
Santos responded with an exasperated grimace. “The man certainly doesn’t waste any time. Show him in, and he can be the evening’s entertainment.”
The housekeeper left briefly and returned with Fermin Ramirez. She left him at the dining room door. The attorney offered an apology, but didn’t smile. “Forgive me for interrupting your dinner, but we have something very serious to discuss.”
Santos gestured to welcome him in. “As long as you’re not carrying any weapons, why don’t you join us? Would you care for something to eat or drink?”
“Mr. Aragon, this isn’t a social call. We should speak privately.�
� Fermin took a seat in the middle of the table, laid a large leather envelope in front of him and folded his hands on top. He was an attractive man with silver hair and hazel eyes, smartly dressed as he might have been for court in a navy blue suit, white shirt and a red-and-blue paisley tie.
Santos took another bite of chicken and chewed slowly. He sipped his wine before looking the man’s way. “Ms. Gunderson has been a witness to all the attempts on my life. If that’s what you’ve come to discuss, she definitely belongs here. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a glass of wine?” He continued to eat his dinner with a gracious display of fine manners.
Fermin refused the offer of wine, opened the leather envelope and took out several pages of notes. “I’m representing Luis and Victoria Ruiz. You’ve made several allegations against them, and they must stop.”
“What?” Libby cried.
Santos reached for her hand and squeezed lightly. “I’ll handle this. Mr. Ramirez, the police are investigating the murder attempts. You should be speaking with Detective Nuñez rather than us. I’ll have Mrs. Lopez show you out.”
“I’d hoped we could settle this as gentlemen,” Ramirez responded.
“It was no gentleman who flashed a mirror in the bullring, set a fire in the elevator here or took a shot at Santos,” Libby exclaimed, and she gave Santos’s hand a returning squeeze.
“There’s no proof my clients had anything to do with those unfortunate incidents,” Fermin insisted, his manner glass-smooth.
“This is a matter for the police,” Santos repeated. “I won’t bargain with you.”
“You may change your mind, Mr. Aragon. Miss Rubio has an issue that must be addressed.”
“Are you referring to her claim my father fathered her child? I want a DNA test before we begin that subject. If the boy is my half brother, then I’ll sue for custody and raise him myself. If you’ve no wish to share dessert with us, please go.”
Santos made his point without raising his voice. His body language projected an admirable cool, but anger lit his dark eyes.
Fermin returned his papers to the envelope and zipped it shut. “You’ve misunderstood, Mr. Aragon. Miss Rubio says you’re the father of her child.”