“The report says YOU attacked Aria, and that you drove Sinclair’s car to the hospital to stalk her,” he said suspiciously.
“But I didn’t!” she insisted. “I had no idea it was Declan’s car because I wasn’t thinking. My car was gone, and it was the first car I saw that had keys in it; it happened to be outside of the house. Marchelle had been the last one to drive my car. I had no idea where it was, and I took the opportunity when I saw keys in the ignition.”
He was impressed at how easily she came up with the story, but since she was a pathological liar she could be very convincing.
“If you know the whole story,” she resigned, “they said Marchelle asked Carter to forgive her before she died. She needed forgiveness, Manny. If she would leave a woman dying on the road, don’t you think she would be capable of attempting murder?”
Pondering the possibility, he cocked his head, a sly smile tugging at his lips.
“Manny you know me,” she said persuasively. “I might be a bitch but I would never do that, hurt another person physically. If I’d wanted to hurt Aria, I had other ways to do it. I didn’t need to resort to what Marchelle did.”
“And how exactly would that be?” he asked quickly, trying to throw her off guard.
“Such as buying every house she restored and ruining them!” she explained without a moment’s hesitation. “People would see how quickly my company turned around sales, but if the work which was done on them was inferior, it would destroy her business.”
She was creative; he’d give her that. She covered all her bases, but still had a few little glitches. Her version of the truth was stretched, as well as diabolically creative, and he admired her cunning. It would just take a little time to digest this cover story to see if it would fly legally. For right now, he saw one hole in her version of the events.
“I still don’t see how a few bad repairs would hurt business if you were paying her price. It only benefitted her.”
He was buying it!
“Oh, that! It’s simple really when you think about it. Of course I paid her price, or rather The Vencedor Corporation did, at my request. She never knew it was me. I was going to have a few, let’s say, unsavory people go into the houses and sabotage some things. You know, things like the plumbing, or electrical. These things would show up a month or so later. Even though Vencedor would be involved in the lawsuits, all the shoddy work would be blamed on the contractor. Vencedor would align with the buyers in the resulting cases, offering assistance. Eventually, the contractor—namely Aria—would be responsible for the deficiencies.” She was intoxicated by her own cunning and smirked jubilantly. “My plan was to take her company down, so in effect, I would destroy her personally and professionally.”
She greatly amused him. He was also impressed she’d thought this through as far as she did. It must be how she was spending all her spare time—and it just might work.
“And the Vencedor Corporation?” he asked.
So he was paying attention. This was almost too easy. She could tell he wanted to believe her, but it would have been unlike Manny to be ignorant of facts in any matter that concerned him. He investigated all of this before seeing her, she was sure of it.
“Oh!” she said, pretending to be surprised. “It was just my way of covering my intentions, which is why I also chose to use an attorney. He was paid well to protect my privacy. This way neither Aria, nor her real estate agent, would know what I was up to.” She then spoke in a reverent whisper, “I chose the name because of Papi,” she lied. “I’m sure you will agree that we both were raised by a man who was a victor. It was to honor him.”
She’d hit his soft spot—Papi—and she knew it.
The speaker on the wall announced loudly that visitation was over just as they’d concluded their conversation. Several guards moved into place to escort the prisoners/patients back to their cells. Marisol was relieved and exhausted. She’d worked very hard during the past hour. It took much effort and cunning to play the part of injured victim.
She stood, quietly obedient while waiting to go back to her room. She knew Manny would be mulling over everything she’d told him, but she was confident he would find her faultless—or shrewd. Either, or both, were to her benefit.
“Thank you for your visit, Manny,” she said politely, and offered him a sweet smile. “It does get lonely here, and I know you’re a very busy man.”
Damn her! He felt a twist in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt before. He must be getting soft, but knowing she was confined—and that he wasn’t in control of it—touched something inside. It was a mixture of pity and anger. She was beautiful, more beautiful than when she was younger, and he found himself glad that she was bound to him legally. Her smile drew his attention to her full lips, and his thoughts began to travel down a carnal path. He had to get her out of here—find some way - and put his own plan for her into motion.
Suddenly, something occurred to him.
“Mari? Wait!” he called out. “Just one more thing…”
She stopped just before going through the doorway.
“What exactly did the police say when they took you—either from the hospital, or at the police station? Did they ask you anything about understanding your rights?”
“Say to me?” She was confused. “They said some things, but I didn’t understand all of it. They talked so fast I just didn’t understand it all.” She looked embarrassed to admit a weakness. “I still don’t understand English sometimes…”
His lips twitched as he fought a smile. “Don’t worry, mi amor,” he consoled. “Everything will work out.”
Watching as they led her away, he called out a little louder. “I’ll be back soon, chica. No se preocupe… don’t worry.”
She disappeared down the hall. Once he could no longer see her he made his way to the parking lot. There was much for him to think about.
Reaching the car, he pulled out his cell and punched speed dial for his attorney.
“Juan Carlos, it’s me,” he said as he began to drive away. “Pull the records from Marianna’s arrest. I think there’s a way to get her out, but we need to go over the details.” He hoped he was lucky or clever enough to pull this off.
“I think they screwed up,” he said hopefully. “She didn’t understand the charges when they arrested her. She may also have incriminated herself by misunderstanding questions. We have to find out if they made an attempt to clarify for her. I don’t even think they read her rights to her… in Spanish!”
Three months later…
“You’re a prick!”
The conversation wasn’t going in the direction he’d hoped. Declan wasn’t holding back—not at all. It seemed he and Aria hadn’t spoken with Aimee, thinking she was getting settled in. Today, apparently, they spoke, and he was on his brother’s shit list. Truthfully, he was surprised she hadn’t called them months ago, after their argument. It was blatantly clear by the yelling on Declan’s end that he’d wasted no time in calling him once he had talked to her.
“What in the hell would possess you to be so damned lousy to her? She’s never done a thing to you,” he ranted.
Resigned to letting his brother blow off steam, he sat barefoot, leaning forward on the sofa as he listened. He held the phone a respectable distance away from his ear since most of what was coming from the other end was a raised voice.
“She’s a friend! A really close one! From what Aria dragged out of her, it sounded like you were a real bastard. You don’t treat your friends like that!” Declan huffed.
“Yeah, you would know all about how to treat your friends, wouldn’t you?” Carter answered cynically.
The phone went dead.
Several minutes later, his brother spoke in a much calmer tone.
“That’s a low blow… even for you.”
Carter felt a flicker of remorse, but he justified his statement without a hint of apology. “I call ‘em like I see ‘em, Dec”.
Again, more silenc
e. He could hear his brother take a deep breath on the other end of the line. Then he started droning on again. This time more composed.
“Aimee’s a friend of mine—and Aria’s—and I thought she was a friend of yours too. What were you thinking? She said she got the impression you didn’t want her there; that she was trespassing. She didn’t need your permission to move, or buy a house, or anything else for that matter.” He paused before continuing, this time he sounded like his normal self. “You know, I don’t know if you realize it, but in a business where everyone, pretty much, gets screwed up by money, drugs, or their own ego, Aimee is squeaky clean. She didn’t have an ulterior motive for picking Deep Creek, Carter, if that’s what you think. She just wanted a place to get away, and she liked it there. You have to stop being suspicious of everyone’s agenda.”
He shrugged off the implication. Cautious was a natural instinct for him, and old habits die hard.
“I was just surprised when she showed up at my door,” he explained.
“She showed up at your door because she was looking for a good place to eat,” Declan said exasperated. “It was that simple. From what she told Aria and me, you acted like she was a dog pissing on your territory. Not to mention you gave her the third degree.”
Carter rolled his eyes. Why in the hell did he get himself into this crap?
“I’ll go apologize, if it’ll make you happy,” he surrendered. “I have her phone number, I’ll call. Better yet, I’ll stop by and apologize in person. Give me her address. She told me, but I wasn’t paying attention.” He had a piece of paper in front of him.
Declan read off her information. “Just be decent when you talk to her,” he warned. “She’s a friend—she’s MORE than a friend. She’s like a little sister. Don’t be pissy with her.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Carter’s pungent sarcasm was enough to reach through the line.
“I mean it,” Declan ordered.
“All right! I’ll be nice! Now shut up! Give the phone to Aria,” he demanded.
“Yeah. She wants to talk to you, too—but it’s not going to be pretty,” his advised.
Carter laughed. “I think I can handle her.”
As Declan walked the phone to her, Carter could hear his footsteps on the hardwood. “Yeah, you do that, hear? Let me know how it works for you.”
As the conversation transferred from Declan to Aria, he laid back on the bed with his eyes closed. He knew what was coming.
“Carter?” she hesitated, and for a moment gave him hope for a reprieve. It was short lived.
“Yeah?” he answered. Then all hell broke loose.
“What is wrong with you?! Why would you be so mean to Aimee? Don’t you know she likes you? You should really…”
He pulled his ear away from the phone. For the next five minutes all he heard was “blah, blah, blah.” He loved his sister-in-law, but he knew she hated any type of harsh treatment to those she cared about, so she was justified.
As Aria fumed and vented her frustrations on the same topic as her husband, he zoned out and contemplated a way to repair his unwarranted behavior. He was wrong to have been so aggravated with her.
They were right; she didn’t need his approval for anything she did. He needed to come up with a plan which would not only pacify her, but make peace with his brother and sister-in-law.
He stood staring blankly at the bizarre house. What was she thinking when she bought this piece of crap?
Although a long time resident of the Deep Creek Lake area, he wondered why he hadn’t noticed this place before. It was the craziest damn thing he ever saw. Her house was shaped like a boat, which would explain why she said she lived on, or rather in, a house boat. After the way he’d spoken to her, there was no wonder why she misled him. He had to give her credit for being a smartass! She’d succeeded in being elusive. Her vague description had him going around in circles to find her. He’d searched for days down at the water’s edge, looking on the lake for a house boat, not a boat- shaped house.
As he lifted his hand to knock on the door, he saw that the knocker was shaped like a life preserver. It was aged iron and he wondered if Aimee or the previous owner had found it, because it certainly fit with the house. In any case, he thought it was clever and light-hearted. Leave it to Aimee to make you comfortable before you walked in the door.
After giving a few solid knocks, apprehension set in. She had no idea he was coming, and he hadn’t been too nice to her the last time they were together.
On the other side of the door, the sound startled her.
“Who could that be? Nobody knows I’m here…”
She looked out the peephole.
Carter!
She could see him leaning against the doorframe, so she quietly turned around. If she pretended she wasn’t home, maybe he’d go away. She’d begun to tiptoe away when she heard his deep voice.
“It’s no use. I know you’re in there.”
Damn!
Attempting to pull some semblance of order to her messy hair, she ran her fingers though it to form a loose ponytail. It would have to do. That’s what he gets for coming uninvited!
She opened the door with a hesitant grin. All at once a familiar flutter developed in her stomach. He was too damn sexy for his own good and it gave him some kind of magnetic power where she was concerned.
“What do you want?” her tone sarcastically dripped.
He continued leaning against the frame, looked straight into her eyes, and gave her a shit-eating grin. “I was in the neighborhood,” he chuckled, repeating verbatim what she’d said when she showed up at his house.
She deliberately crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him… for several, long, uncomfortable minutes.
He boyishly grinned at her. “Let’s get this out of the way, why don’t we?” he said. “I know I was an ass. You know I was an ass. I’m sorry. End of story.”
She continued staring with her arms crossed.
“C’mon, Aim. Aren’t you going to let me in? We are friends, after all.”
His cocky attitude and smile should have offended her, but all it did was charm her. She rolled her eyes. “Why should I—friend?” she enunciated sarcastically.
Standing up straight he was tall enough so that she had to look up at him. He had an evil twinkle in his eye. “Because when you did the same thing to me by showing up, I let you in. Remember? You were just in the neighborhood?”
“Yeah, right!” she spat, then turned and walked away from the open door. He invited himself in as she walked across the room, slightly pissed off.
“The difference between then and now, sweetheart,” he said joking, “is that I really am in the neighborhood.”
That earned him a biting glare.
“Why are you really here? You made it obvious you weren’t fond of my being here—unless that’s the way you treat all your friends.”
Grinning playfully, he nodded and she instantly forgot every acidic word in her head.
Damn him!
“You’re an ass, Carter. You really pissed me off,” she confessed.
“It’s why I’m here. To do damage control,” he replied.
Still sporting his sexy grin, he walked the perimeter of the living room.
“How long are you going to chew on this, Aim?” he asked, cocking a wicked grin. “You know, we could hug it out,” he laughed.
“Umm… No. Thanks. I don’t think so,” she chuckled in spite of her irritation, which was rapidly evaporating.
He held his arms out, coming toward her.
“No!” she said emphatically. She began to walk backwards as he came near, his arms outstretched like the Frankenstein monster. Once he got close enough, he pulled her in, earning him a giggled refusal.
“Stop! Stop!” she laughed. “I get it! You’re sorry!” She pushed him away. “Now get off of me, you jerk!”
As she seated herself at one end of the sofa, he followed and took a seat on the adjacent overstuffed chair.
“Can we stop this?” he asked sincerely. “I’d like a do-over. I know I was rude. Seriously, I’d like to say I’m sorry.”
She wasn’t a person who held grudges. The word sorry was her Achilles heel. Although chastising herself for giving in so easily, the pitiful look on his face seemed sincere and won her over.
“You hurt my feelings,” she confessed.
His shoulders relaxed when he heard her resigned tone, and he leaned back in the chair. “Yeah, I figured that. What can I say? I’m an ass sometimes.”
“It seems when things aren’t going your way you and your brother share the same trait.” She refreshed his memory with regard to Declan’s behavior after his accident.
He knew what she was referring to. “Yeah we do,” he admitted. “Really, Aim, I am sorry about how I treated you.”
“You were a real grouch that day,” she accused.
“What’d you expect? You woke me up from a nap!” he replied.
“Yeah, well at least Cody was happy to see me. Where is she, by the way?” she asked.
“She’s home,” he answered quickly. “Okay, let me cut to the chase here. I came to apologize, and ask you if you want to get dinner sometime… that is, if the supermodel is allowed to eat.”
She grinned. “Oh, I eat! You’d better watch your wallet!”
He laughed. Not just a chuckle, but a belly-laugh. It happened without warning, but that kind of laughter usually does because it comes from a happy place, and he hadn’t been in a happy place for quite some time. It felt refreshing because it felt good. It was strange, but he liked it. For a moment, in the light hearted and playful atmosphere, it was as if he saw Aimee for the first time. Really saw her. He’d seen hints of it before when he lived at the beach, but either she was being too much a pain in the ass, or he was too preoccupied to notice. Those brief glimpses of her lightheartedness were usually disguised by her smart mouth. They got along, but they irritated each other.
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