by Phoebe Conn
“Another time. Please help me think of reasons for Jaime’s murder.”
He was silent a long moment. “All right. He was a photographer. Could he have blackmailed someone, or photographed something he shouldn’t have seen?”
“A drug deal?” She made a quick notation.
“That’s possible, or a prominent man being with a woman who wasn’t his wife?”
She pushed her chair back from the table. “Millionaires who didn’t want to be seen discussing business together?” she added.
“Government figures plotting,” Alejandro offered. “There’s also an entirely different angle with photography. You refused to pose for nudes, but could he have been producing porn, or bondage and S&M photos that attracted the wrong kind of people?”
“I see where you’re going. Barcelona is a large commercial port, and it’s possible to buy almost anything here, isn’t it?”
“I’ve not looked, but yes, I suppose so. Call security and ask if the paparazzi are still out front.”
“Give me a minute.” She came back quickly. “They’re gone, and I told the night guard to expect you.”
“Is there anything you’d like me to bring?”
“Your company is all I need.”
Alejandro parked at the side of the condo building. He scanned the street, but nothing struck him as being out of place. As he entered the building, he paused at the security desk.
“Good evening, sir,” Juan greeted him.
“Miss Santillan is expecting me.”
“Sign in, please.”
Alejandro did. “Are you armed?”
Juan stepped back. “If I have to be, sir. We lock the entrance early and don’t admit anyone we don’t recognize, unless it’s an expected guest. We all take this job seriously.”
“Good. Thank you.” Alejandro walked to the elevators and pressed the button. He was becoming as jumpy as Ana. When she opened her door wearing only a white satin robe, he framed her face with his hands and kissed her, licked her lips and spread tender kisses over her cheeks.
She kicked the door closed, took his hand and led him into her bedroom. “Let’s talk about murder later.”
He flung his sports coat toward the chair in the corner. She crawled up on the bed and leaned back to prop herself on her elbows. Her robe slid open to show a long, shapely leg. He grabbed her feet to pull her closer until her legs dangled over the end of the bed. He knelt between them. “Count this later when you want me on my knees.”
He tickled her feet and made her laugh. “I have a very poor memory. You may have to do this often.”
Kissing his way up her thighs, he grazed his knuckles along her slit in a teasing swipe. He leaned back to catch her foot and kissed her toes. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”
“Are you talking about indiscriminate toe kissing, or am I something special?”
“It’s only you. I’m no danger to barefooted sunbathers on the beach.”
She pulled free of his light grasp and wiggled her toes. “Our whole bodies are sensitive, but my feet are too ticklish.”
He danced his fingers up her thighs and kissed her knees. “I like all of you.” He leaned down to lick her cleft. “You taste so good, sweet and salty like tears. Luscious.”
His glossy black hair fell over his eyes in a boyish wave. “I like watching you. You have such a handsome smile,” she nearly purred.
“Who wouldn’t smile with you?”
“Or with you, Alejandro.” She ran her foot up his shirt. “Take off your clothes.”
“Later.” He spread her legs wide, slipped his arms under her thighs and dipped his tongue into her. He’d known how to satisfy a woman, but being with Ana was a wild exotic trip rather than a hasty hookup. He slid crossed fingers into her core and twisted them in time with his tongue. He felt her first quiver of pleasure and sucked gently to bring her to a peak. He loved her grateful moan and savored every throb and grasp of her core. He didn’t pull away until she lay too limp to desire more.
He pulled off his clothes and moved over her. “Is this too much now?”
She wrapped him in her arms and rolled her hips under him. “No. Come with me.”
He loved going slow, plunging into her slippery heat until neither of them could stand another stroke. He’d been an idiot to stop seeing her for even a minute and vowed to make up for it tonight.
A wild pounding on the front door woke them at six thirty a.m. Alejandro sat up and threw the sheet aside. “The building must be on fire. I’ll get it.” He pulled on his jeans and pushed his hair out of his eyes as he opened the front door.
The detectives leaned in to look around him. “I’m Sergeant Robles, and this is my partner, Sergeant Mesa.” They flashed their badges with a practiced swing. “We need to speak with Miss Santillan.”
“At this hour?” Alejandro asked incredulously. “You could have called and made an appointment.”
“We need to speak with Miss Santillan now,” Robles emphasized gruffly.
Ana came up behind Alejandro, the belt on her robe tied tightly. She’d made no effort to smooth her hair and looked as though she’d just walked out of the jungle. “What is it, gentlemen?”
“We need to take you down to the station for a few more questions.”
“I could meet you there,” she offered.
“No, you need to come with us,” Mesa stressed. He swept Alejandro with a hostile, dismissive glance. “Alone.”
“Wait downstairs while I dress. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
“We’ll wait right here.”
Alejandro pointed out the padded bench under the window at the end of the hallway. “Wait there.” He closed and locked the door before they could object. “Bastards.”
“I love waking up with you.” Ana caressed his back. His skin was warm and smooth. “I’ll answer whatever questions they’ve raked up, and if I need to, bombard them with our suggestions of real possibilities in Jaime’s murder.”
“I’ll follow you.”
“Don’t you have classes?”
“Not at this hour.” He went into the guest bathroom where the kittens were stretching, meowing and looking for breakfast. He found the cat food in the refrigerator and fed them before getting into the shower. Needing more than a toothbrush, he was grateful for the basket on the counter with every grooming product he could possibly need. He was ready to go and had time to make coffee before Ana was dressed.
She appeared in a conservative gray skirt suit with a pale gray blouse and low heels. She’d wound her hair into a bun at her nape. “I don’t wear glasses or I’d put them on. How do I look?”
“Like a loveable librarian. You’ll be mistaken for an attorney down at the police station.”
“Oh no, I need to call my agent and get the attorney there.” She opened the door, and the detectives jumped to their feet. “Which police station is it?”
Mesa hurried toward her. “The main station. It isn’t far.”
“I know where it is,” Alejandro offered. “It would easier if I drove her there so she’d have a way home.”
“We’ll bring her home,” Robles replied.
Ana finished her call to Paul Perez, gave Alejandro a quick good-bye kiss and carried her travel mug as she left with the detectives. “An attorney should meet us there, but it may take her a while to arrive.”
“We’ll wait,” Mesa assured her.
The backseat of their dark blue sedan was cleaner than she’d expected, and it had no grill to prevent passengers in the backseat from attacking the officers in front. She wondered what the pair had learned, if anything. When they reached Barcelona’s main police station, she was surprised to see Valeria waiting on a bench near the door. Dressed in a black top and jeans, the model had pulled her hair back to form a huge red puff.
Valeria leaped to her feet to hug Ana. “Why do they want to see us?”
She looked near tears. Ana gave her a comforting squeeze. “I’ve no idea how their tiny minds work. I
have an attorney coming. Do you?”
“No, I know absolutely nothing about Jaime’s death and didn’t want to pay for an attorney to sit beside me while I said so.”
The detectives had gone to the front desk. Ana sat down beside Valeria. There were uniformed officers and people in plain clothes everywhere she looked. “This is a busy place. I’d no idea there was so much crime in Barcelona to warrant all this activity near dawn.”
“I’ve no idea about anything,” Valeria replied.
Alejandro saw them as soon as he came through the front doors and joined them on the bench. Ana introduced him, and he smiled. “I’m glad to meet you, Valeria, but wish it had been under better circumstances.”
“So do I,” Valeria responded. “This is the first time I’ve ever been inside a police station.” She rubbed her arms. “It’s not a place I’d like to visit again.”
They waited nearly an hour before the attorney Paul Perez had called rushed through the door. Dressed in a black pants suit, with dark brown hair in a short stylish cut, her appearance was both striking and professional. She spoke in a hushed voice. “Miss Santillan, I’m Elena Covarrubias. From what I learned from Paul, the police are repeatedly questioning you without reason, which is harassment, and they’ve leaked a photo that has defamed your image and harmed your ability to earn a living. I’ll handle whatever questions they have. All you need do is sit quietly and listen unless I encourage you to speak.”
Ana was enormously relieved. “Thank you. Alejandro and I came up with some reasons Jaime Campos might have been slain, but none of them had anything to do with the models he knew.”
Elena’s proud posture stiffened. “Keep all speculation to yourself, Miss Santillan. Let the police do all the work in this case.”
Alejandro winked at Ana, and she nodded. “I understand.” She was puzzled when her name was called before Valeria’s. “There must be some mistake. She was here first.”
Sergeant Robles insisted there was no mistake. Ana and Elena followed him out of the room. Alejandro moved closer to Valeria. “I can understand their doing a thorough investigation, but they aren’t looking in the right place.”
Valeria responded with a shaky smile. “When we were on Mallorca, Ana said she’d met someone nice she wanted to see when she got home. I’m glad she wasn’t disappointed.”
She had such a wistful expression, Alejandro feared she had been disappointed all too often. “Thank you. We met by chance and just clicked. Do you know anything about Campos other than his work as a photographer?”
“I barely knew him. I’ve only been working professionally a year, and Ana’s worked since childhood, so she knows more about everyone.”
It jarred Alejandro to think Ana might know the murderer.
Elena Covarrubias and Ana sat on one side of the interview room’s table and Robles took the other while Mesa paced behind him. Robles cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d talked with Valeria Godina about Mr. Campos’s art photography?”
Elena leaned in to whisper in Ana’s ear, and Ana nodded. “You didn’t ask if I’d discussed it with anyone.”
“It didn’t seem relevant?”
“No,” Ana replied without prompting. She sat still to appear confident and unconcerned by the question, but she was more annoyed than frightened.
“We’d like to hear your version of the conversation.”
Elena only raised a brow, and Ana took a moment to recall before she spoke. “She asked if Mr. Campos had mentioned his art photography, and I said yes. I told her I didn’t do nudes and urged her not to let him coerce her into posing for him if she didn’t want to.”
Robles smiled. “So you spearheaded the models’ opposition to Mr. Campos’s project?”
“I spoke to Valeria, no one else. It was a casual conversation, not a diatribe against nude photography.”
“Well, now, Miss Santillan—”
Elena brought her open hand down on the table with a loud smack. “You summoned Miss Santillan at dawn for this? We’d like to know how the bogus photograph of her reached the tabloids. It was in your possession on Monday and published Tuesday. Is your security here so incredibly lax? Or was it released in an attempt to focus blame on her while you scramble for viable suspects?”
Robles bristled at the attorney’s questions and looked over his shoulder at his partner. “There was more than one copy, and we’ve no idea who released it.”
“You’re admitting this insulting photo of my client was widely circulated in your department?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“That is pathetic,” Elena continued, her voice low and taut. “Publication of the phony photo has cost Miss Santillan work, and we plan to sue for damages for the harm you’ve done her career. Do you have any questions that actually pertain to the case?”
Mesa paused midstride and pressed against the table. “We are near an arrest, Miss Covarrubias, and are being thorough. You cannot sue us for doing our jobs.”
“I most certainly can sue you for the way you’re doing them.” She dropped her card on the table. “Call me if you wish to speak to Miss Santillan in the future.”
Ana restrained the impulse to cheer and silently rose as Elena left her chair. They walked out of the interview room at a stately pace, but Ana longed to run back to Alejandro. He stood when he saw them coming, and Valeria looked very lost and alone remaining on the bench.
“We’re finished,” Elena remarked. “We never discuss anything here.” She handed Ana her card. “Come to my office. We’ve plenty of time before my usual office hours.”
“This is close,” Ana observed. “I’ll take the Metro, and you can go on to your classes, Alejandro.”
“I’m free until this afternoon,” he said. Valeria was looking up at him, her enormous blue eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Did you call your agent? Someone ought to come to be with you.”
The redhead shrugged. “The detectives asked me to stay until they’d spoken to Ana, so if you’re done, I must be too.” She stood and slung her fringed purse over her shoulder. “I hope I didn’t get you in any trouble.”
Elena lowered her voice. “We talk about nothing here.” She handed Valeria her card. “Should you need legal advice, call me.”
“Thank you.” Valeria left the building first and ran right into a wall of paparazzi shouting for her to look their way.
Elena stepped in front of Ana and Alejandro. “It’s important to look ethereal in photographs, not real life,” she cautioned. “Let’s lose this crowd in the Metro.” She marched through the wide doorway with the bravado of a four-star general. Ana and Alejandro followed.
“Don’t you look pretty today, Ana!” one man shouted, while his companions yelled only her name.
Valeria had already pushed her way free and disappeared. Ana gripped Alejandro’s hand, ignored the paparazzi, and followed Elena zigzagging through the stream of people rushing toward the Liceu station. Without a clear shot for a photo, the paparazzi fell back. Elena pulled a transport card from her purse when they reached the bottom of the station stairs.
“I’ll go back to my office on the Metro. What about you two?”
Ana checked with Alejandro. “I have a card. Do you?”
“I ride the Metro, just like everyone else. Let’s go with Elena, and we can come back for my SUV later. If you’ll let go of my hand, I’ll pull my card from my wallet.”
Embarrassed, Ana dropped his hand. “I’m sorry.” People were moving around them to reach their trains, and she stayed close. They waited while one of the sleek silver Metro train cars emptied and pushed in with the other passengers ready to go. Ana grabbed a pole rather than sit with Elena, and Alejandro stood facing her.
“This is a great place to watch people.” He had to nearly shout to be heard.
Ana nodded and leaned against the pole. At first she thought the man standing behind her had been jostled against her, and then realized he was rubbing against her butt. She jam
med her elbow into his stomach so hard he cried out. Infuriated, she swung around to face him. He was a middle-aged man in a shiny suit. He had only a sparse fringe of hair circling his head above his ears, and even in his teens, she doubted he could have been handsome. He blushed deeply and looked as ashamed of himself, as he ought to be.
“What’s the matter with you?” Ana cried. “Buy a blow-up doll if you need female company, but don’t accost women on the Metro.”
Alejandro moved to confront the man. “Are you bothering her? If you so much as touched her, I’m going to pull you off this car at the next stop and make you very sorry.”
“No, no, I did nothing,” the man swore, his lower lip trembling. “The train is crowded, that’s all.” He burrowed through the passengers behind him to put a safe distance between them.
“What was he doing?” Alejandro asked.
“You don’t want to know,” Ana assured him. “Elena’s standing. We must get off here.”
Elena’s office was a couple of blocks from the station, and she talked as they walked along. “I meant what I said about suing the police. They’ve no reason to question you once, let alone twice, and if they dare to come near you again, I’ll double the sum we’ll ask.”
Her office was on the second floor of a building packed with law firms. She had several partners and led them past the receptionist into her cluttered office. “The place is a mess, but I know where everything is. Sit. Do you want coffee?”
Ana had stowed her empty travel mug in her bag. “No, thank you.”
Alejandro shook his head and pulled his chair closer to Elena’s desk. “If you work with Ana’s agent, do you have many criminal cases?”
“I do contracts mainly, but I know how to scare off the police. Now that nobody is listening, who do you think really killed Jaime Campos?”
Ana pulled her notebook from her bag and first noted the time they’d arrived. “I’ve no real clue. Maybe it was something personal, or he could have photographed something he shouldn’t have, or have been blackmailing someone. We also wondered if he might have had a dark side, done porn photos and got involved with the wrong crowd.”