Twilight, page 28
As badly as she wanted to tie up all the loose ends, Dana couldn’t entirely buy Rick’s not-quite-far-fetched theory. “Why would they need to embezzle church funds? Carolina’s loaded. You saw her house. And Drake does okay.”
“Are you sure about that?” Rick asked. “Appearances can be deceiving. Maybe Carolina’s husband kept her on a tight budget. Maybe Drake lived beyond his means.”
“And Tremayne? Where does he fit in?” she asked.
“Maybe he doesn’t,” Kate chimed in. “Maybe we’ve been focusing too hard on him, because we don’t like him.”
“Or maybe he’s behind it all, to get money for his failed development deal in South America,” Dana said slowly.
“We need to see the books,” Kate concluded. “Or bank records. Do you have any of that stuff around the house?”
Dana shook her head. “It’s all in the church office. Even if we found the books, do either of you know anything about accounting? I certainly don’t. It’s not the kind of thing I ever investigated.”
“I do,” Rick said. “I’ve had to take a crash course since opening Yo, Amigo. The government demands very accurate records for the funding it provides.”
Kate cast a resigned look toward the stove. “That roast was destined to taste like sawdust, wasn’t it?”
Dana grinned. “Then it will be just right for that cop who stood you up.”
Kate visibly perked up at that thought. “Yes, it will.”
“Which cop would that be?” a familiar voice asked just as they reached the front door.
They found themselves facing a very disgruntled-looking O’Flannery.
“Oops,” Dana murmured under her breath.
O’Flannery didn’t wait for a reply to his question. “Now, just where would you all be off to this time?” he inquired cheerfully.
“A walk,” Kate said at once. “We were just going for a walk to work up an appetite.”
“I thought we had dinner plans,” he said.
“We did. You canceled,” she reminded him. “Your message said you’d catch up with me here.”
“And take you out,” he elaborated.
“You didn’t say that. Besides, I’d already cooked. I brought the food over here.”
He beamed. “Terrific, then we can all eat together.” His gaze settled on Dana, then skipped over to Rick and back again. “Maybe over dessert you two can tell me what you were doing sneaking around inside the Vincenzi home just prior to my arrival there.”
Dana sighed. Rick scowled.
“Who is this Vincenzi person?” he asked.
“Oh, give it up,” O’Flannery said. “I know you were there. I saw you as you made a dash for the woods. I didn’t waste time giving chase, because I knew exactly where to find you.”
Dana’s expression brightened. “Precisely. Would you have felt the same if you’d seriously thought we were fleeing felons?”
“Felons? Maybe not, but you were fleeing a crime scene. How’d you get in and why were you there?”
“Do we have to do this standing in the middle of the living room while my roast dies a little more with each passing minute?” Kate grumbled peevishly.
O’Flannery sent a warm smile her way. “Of course not. I’m sure we’ll all be much more relaxed over a nice, hot meal.”
“Speak for yourself,” Dana muttered.
“Hush, querida,” Rick whispered as O’Flannery followed Kate toward the kitchen. “You will stir his suspicions.”
Dana stared at him incredulously. “His suspicions are on full alert as it is. I don’t have any explanations I care to share with him, do you?”
“No, but I am very quick on my feet. There was a time when it was the only thing between me and prison.”
“How reassuring.”
He caught her hand in his and squeezed it. Oddly enough, she felt better almost immediately. Not relieved exactly, but warmer. Hotter, in fact. No, she corrected at once, that was another reaction entirely, and one that was growing increasingly troublesome.
“Ah, I see the table is already set for four,” O’Flannery said jovially. “What good planning. Or were you expecting someone else?”
“It would serve you right if we were,” Kate muttered as she began shuttling dishes of food to the table—enough food for an army, which only confirmed her earlier agitation.
His gaze narrowed. “I thought you understood that I had to go out on a call.”
“That was before I knew you were going to try to pin a crime on my friends.”
“Nobody said anything about locking your friends up for a crime,” he protested. “Besides, Tony Vincenzi was long dead by the time they broke in.”
Dana exchanged a congratulatory look with Rick. Obviously, she knew more than she’d ever wanted to know about dead bodies. A few more and maybe she’d qualify for a career in forensic medicine.
She was so intent on patting herself on the back that she apparently missed the significance of the rest of O’Flannery’s statement. Kate didn’t.
“Are you going to charge them with breaking and entering?” she demanded.
“Not if they open up and tell me what they were doing there,” he said, then gazed first at Dana and then at Rick. “Well?”
“Do you actually have evidence that we were ever in that house?” Rick queried quietly.
“An eyewitness, namely me.”
Dana gathered from the question what Rick’s strategy was going to be. She chimed in. “Where were we when you spotted us?”
“Hightailing it across the backyard toward the woods.”
She grinned. Rick looked complacent.
“Interesting,” she said. “That would be outside the house, then, correct?”
O’Flannery scowled. “Oh, no, you don’t. You two were inside. There’s not a doubt in my mind about that.”
“But you just said that you didn’t actually see us inside,” she reminded him. “You’re making an assumption based on circumstantial evidence.”
He didn’t look nearly as rattled or as defensive as she might have liked. He turned calmly to Kate, instead.
“Did these two happen to mention anything about Tony Vincenzi when they arrived here?”
“You mean that he was dead?” Kate asked.
Rick groaned.
“Oh, Kate,” Dana murmured.
Kate stared at them. “What did I do?”
“They would only have known about Vincenzi if they were in that house,” O’Flannery explained gently.
“Oh, hell,” Kate muttered, glaring at the detective. “You tricked me.”
“I was only able to do it because you’re an honest woman. Thank you. You’ll make a terrific witness.” He paused and stared pointedly from Rick to Dana and back again. “If it becomes necessary.”
Dana broke first. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you why we were there.”
He chuckled at the belated and very reluctant offer. “No need,” he said indulgently. “Remember, I was there when Juan Jesus described the woman who’d been crying in your husband’s office. I knew you’d head straight over there to confront her. I parked a block behind Rick and waited to see how things would play out.”
Dana regarded him incredulously. “You tailed us?”
“You bet.”
There wasn’t so much as a hint of repentance in his voice, which irritated her no end. “Well, given the number of reinforcements you obviously called in,” she said sarcastically, “did anybody think to tail Peter Drake when he slipped out of the place?”
The detective’s smug expression slipped just a little at that. “Who the hell is Peter Drake?”
“He’s the man who was inside Carolina Vincenzi’s house when we got there,” Rick supplied. “Too bad you missed him. I suspect he could tell you quite a lot about who murdered Tony Vincenzi and why.”
To Kate’s obvious irritation, O’Flannery shoved aside his plate and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Maybe you’d better start at the beginning,” he suggested, glaring at Dana. “And this time, don’t leave out any of the significant details, okay?”
Something in his impatient tone suggested that there would be dire consequences for jerking him around again. Dana took the hint seriously. After a quick glance at the others for approval, she elaborated on the skimpy story they’d sketched for him earlier. When she was finished, the detective sighed heavily and stood up. After casting a regretful look at his untouched plate of food, he motioned toward the door.
“Let’s go, all of you.”
“You’re taking us to jail?” Kate asked. She seemed to have lost a little of her righteous indignation.
“Not yet,” he retorted. “Right now we’re all going over to the church office. While you’re in the vicinity, you might want to say a prayer or two that I don’t charge the whole bunch of you with obstructing justice and anything else I can dream up.”
Her temper clearly revived, Kate planted herself in his path and glared up at him defiantly. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He scowled right back. “Try me.”
Dana had the feeling that a very promising romance was about to go up in smoke unless someone stepped in to prevent it. Against her better judgment, she interceded.
“Kate, he’s just doing his job.”
“Well, it’s a lousy job,” Kate grumbled.
“Could we debate the merits of my career choice some other time?” O’Flannery asked. “Or, if you’d prefer, you three can stay here and argue about it while I go over to the church.”
“Not a chance,” Dana said, heading for the door. She smiled at him smugly. “Besides, I’m the one who has the keys.”
“The lack of keys doesn’t appear to be a real impediment with this crowd,” he retorted dryly. He reached in his pocket. “Besides, I have a set, too. It’s a crime scene, remember? Only the police have access for the moment.”
Check and checkmate.
Everyone dutifully trailed after the detective. Dana was so irritated, she was oblivious to the biting, bitter cold wind. She was imagining all sorts of dire fates befalling him, and enjoying each and every scenario, when Rick tugged her to a halt.
“What?” she asked, lifting her gaze to meet his.
“You go on. I’m going back into town.”
Given the circumstances, the announcement stunned her. She studied his face intently, but his expression was unreadable. “Why? I thought you were going to help us interpret the books.”
“I’m sure O’Flannery can do that.”
Her suspicions mounted. “And you can’t bear the thought of letting another man steal the limelight?”
“Hardly.”
“What, then? Why run out now?” She fastened her gaze on his, or tried to, anyway. He continued looking everywhere but directly into her eyes. Either they were getting too close to a solution he didn’t like or... She regarded him with excitement. “You’ve thought of something, haven’t you?”
“Maybe,” he admitted.
“Then I’m coming with you,” she said at once.
“No. O’Flannery’s going to be ticked enough when he realizes I’m gone. He’ll blow a gasket if you pull a vanishing act, too. He’ll come charging into the city, instead of staying out here and examining those books.”
“But you don’t think he’s going to find anything in the books, do you?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Rick, if you know something, you have to tell me.”
He touched a finger to her lips to quiet her. “That’s just it, querida. I don’t know anything. I am only guessing. I will call you as soon as I have something concrete. I swear it. Just cover for me now, okay?”
When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to relent and tell her a thing, Dana shrugged indifferently, vowing to herself that she would join him the very instant it was safe to leave Kate and the detective. “Fine. Go.”
“What will you tell O’Flannery?”
“Let me worry about that. Get out of here, before he realizes that something is up.”
“With Kate beside him, I don’t think the investigation is all that’s on his mind. He will remain distracted for a moment or two longer.” He leaned down and brushed a slow, lingering kiss across her lips.
“I will call you,” he whispered eventually. “I promise.”
As he turned and hurried swiftly out of sight, Dana sighed. Didn’t he understand that that was another thing Ken’s death had accomplished? Ken had left her with very similar words on the night he’d been shot. She no longer had any more faith in promises than she did in prayers. The streets of the barrio almost guaranteed that even the most honorably spoken vows couldn’t be kept.
29
Something had been nagging at him from the minute he’d stumbled on Tony Vincenzi’s body, but not until they’d been playing mind games with Detective O’Flannery had it come to Rick what it was. If he was right...
Madre de Dios, he hoped he wasn’t. He also hoped like hell that Dana would be able to keep the detective off his tail. She could do it, if she felt so inclined, but he’d seen the doubts in her eyes, the fear that he was about to betray her to save either himself or Yo, Amigo.
Right now he needed luck and time. He needed to buy a few hours to see if he couldn’t straighten this mess out on his own...if he was right that there was a mess and that his old friend—Tico, his triumphant success story—was smack in the middle of it.
His first stop was Yo, Amigo headquarters. With any luck, the information he was after would be in the files, files that Maria kept so organized that he should be able to put his finger on it in a heartbeat. Even after the office had been ransacked, she had managed to put everything pretty much back in order by working day and night, with help from Rosa, Marco and the others, who would have walked through fire for her.
He went straight to the alphabetized stacks of files, searching until he found the Gs. He went through the pile twice before determining that the file for Tico Garcia was missing. Though he knew he would have no better luck there, he also searched the Ts, in case it had been misfiled by someone uncertain of correct filing procedures.
In the end, there was only one conclusion. It was gone. And with it, the only solid piece of evidence linking Tico’s restaurant and Tony Vincenzi, if Rick’s guesswork was correct.
He sank down into the chair at Maria’s desk with a heavy sigh. The fact that the file was missing was as much confirmation as he needed that he was on the right track. Oh, he didn’t have all of the pieces of the puzzle just yet, but he didn’t like what he did have: one chunk with his old friend’s angry face on it and another he was all but certain would have Tony Vincenzi’s signature on a loan guarantee.
Only a handful of people knew who had been in on that deal. The investors had insisted on anonymity. They had shunned publicity.
Ken had been one of those who knew. In fact, he had been the one who had organized the backers in the first place. Had he subsequently stumbled on something questionable about the operation? Was that what had put his life at risk? Had the killer also suspected that Ken might have duplicates of the loan papers in his Yo, Amigo files at the church?
There was only one place to get answers, and it was the last place on earth Rick wanted to go, the last person he wanted to confront. Feeling bone-weary and heartsick, he walked the few blocks to the restaurant.
At this hour of the night, business was booming. The salsa music was lively, the aromas mouthwatering. Tico’s mother greeted him with an exuberant hug.
“Think you can squeeze me in, Mamacita?”
“For you, there is always room. I save the best table for special friends.” She bustled down the narrow aisle toward a small table for two, where she usually sat herself when business was slow.
“Sit. I bring you chips right away and a margarita, perhaps? You look as if you need to have your spirits brightened. Tequila is very good for that.”
“No margarita, por favor. Is Tico around?”
“Not just now.” She studied his face and frowned. “Is something wrong?”
Rick wasn’t ready to answer her questions. “When will he be back?”
Her expression faltered, then turned to worry. “I do not know. He has gone after Joey.”
Something in Rick’s stomach went ice-cold at that. “Gone after him where? Mamacita, this is important. Please, where are they?”
She hesitated, clearly torn between the two sons she adored and the man who had given her oldest a chance at a better life.
“You want to help them?” she asked, a soft, pleading note in her voice.
“If I can.”
She sighed. “Florida. Joey went to Florida. Tico went after him. He was a wild man when he heard his brother had gone there. What is happening? I don’t understand this.”
Neither did he, not entirely. He closed his eyes against the sick sensation that washed over him. Eventually he forced himself to stand. As he stood, he squeezed Mrs. Garcia’s trembling hand. “Don’t worry, Mamacita. I will do what I can for them.”
“This is very bad, isn’t it?”
Thinking of Dana’s sons, who were now very much in the path of a man on the run, Rick could only nod. “Yes, I think it may be very, very bad.”
He debated taking action alone, keeping silent until he had all the facts. He weighed Dana’s frantic worry against her right to know, and saw what he had to do. He owed her the truth. Honesty, in fact, might be the only chance at salvaging whatever there was between them. If he kept silent and anything happened, she would blame him forever.
“Can I use your phone?” he asked.
“Of course. It is in the kitchen.”
He called the church office, a number he knew by heart from calling so often to talk things over with his old and trusted friend.
