Fierce Passion (42 page)

“Yes, it’s superb,” Ana replied. “Lucien believes I’d be the right photographer for a series of figure studies he’s envisioned, but I’m not sure I’m ready for such a big step.”

Alejandro responded with a wide grin. “Of course, you’re ready. Do you still have the photos of me on your camera?”

“I do. I always carry my camera so I don’t miss an opportunity to get something unique.” She hurried through the photos she’d taken on board the
Mediterranean Siren
and found the two of Alejandro. “I love this one of him curled over the table.”

Lucien nodded as he studied it. “This is a remarkable composition. Do you have more?”

“The one of me in bed is good. Go ahead and show him,” Alejandro urged.

Lucien’s face lit with a bright smile. “Yes, we could use this one. This is exactly what I want. You’d be handsome in any pose, Alejandro, but this candid photo is far more appealing than a posed nude would be.”

“You see.” Alejandro leaned over to hug Ana. “This would be a great opportunity to not only gain experience but to launch your new career. You should do it.”

She chewed her lip. “Your confidence is so flattering, Alejandro, but let me consider it, will you, Lucien?”

“Of course, and let’s meet again to discuss details when you decide to say yes.” He smiled as though she’d already agreed.

“I wish I had your confidence in my talent,” she remarked.

“Confidence is vital to any pursuit,” Lucien replied. “Wouldn’t you agree, Alejandro?”

“Indeed, I do.”

Alejandro finished his dessert first and watched as Ana licked her spoon. “I love desserts, so it’s a good thing I’m going to ride again this afternoon. It also takes my mind off the constant stress of running the Ortiz Line.”

“It must be a great burden,” Lucien offered. When they were ready to go, he offered his hand. “Thank you for your enthusiasm for my idea, Alejandro. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

As soon as they were seated in his SUV, Alejandro kissed Ana hard. “You played that so well, Lucien will never guess why you’re so reluctant to work with him.”

She looked at him askance. “You overdid it with the encouragement, or do you actually believe I’d care more about my career than catching a murderer?”

“You’re not going to do it, so I made it look as though I were on Lucien’s side. It was an act on both our parts.”

“Really? Didn’t you refuse to be bait for Montoya—and now you’re eager to go out and ride?”

“I did, but I’ve reconsidered. Working with Lucien really would build your photography career. Unfortunately, it’s far too dangerous to even consider. I want him caught before you’ve taken a single photo for him.”

“What about you? It’s too dangerous for you to ride hoping René Charles will pursue you again. What if he shot at you rather than attempt to crowd you off the road?”

Already on guard, he studied his rearview mirror. “It has to be difficult to shoot a cyclist.”

“Undoubtedly, unless he’s a good shot.”

He glanced toward her. “He used a knife on Jaime.”

“So what? Maybe he has a wealth of lethal weapons. He could blow poison darts at you.”

He reached over to give her hand a loving squeeze. “Have you always had such a lively imagination?”

She looked out at the people on the street. “I’m an only child and learned early to amuse myself.”

He laughed but reined it in when she scowled at him. “If you don’t count Carlotta’s boys, I’m also an only child, or I was brought up as one. Maybe that’s why I took to drawing and didn’t need anyone else.”

“Fascinating to hear, but what are you going to tell Montoya?”

“That I let Lamoreaux know I plan to go out for a ride, and if René Charles shows up again, they can catch him.”

“How is Montoya going to protect you? Will he take to a bicycle himself?”

Alejandro shrugged. “He looks fit. He might own one.”

“You told me I’d be well provided for if a crane toppled and crushed you. Do you already have the baby in your will?”

“Would it surprise you to learn I do?”

“Yes, I’d be shocked.”

“I updated my will this morning after our attorney finished reading my father’s. It’s signed and witnessed, so if I flip over the handlebars and break my neck this afternoon, you and the baby will still be able to lead very comfortable lives.”

She turned away, but he caught a gleam of tears in her eyes and wondered if she’d really miss him. He reached for her hand. “I missed you last night. Let’s not spend tonight apart.”

“We won’t have a choice if you’re in the morgue.”

He could almost see her mind work. She feared he’d die trying to catch René Charles, and she’d be left all alone. It hadn’t been quite a year since Miguel Aragon had died. Maybe she feared he’d also be taken from her. It was too painful a thought to consider.

When they reached her condo, he walked her up to her door. “I’d like to call Montoya from here so you’ll know the plan. Be careful opening the door—I brought the kittens home.”

She peeked around her door. There was no sign of the cats. “All right, come in, but don’t expect me to be part of this.”

Fatima rushed up to them. “Did Lamoreaux admit he knew anything about Jaime’s death?”

“No, but we believe it was his chauffeur who killed him,” Ana answered. The kittens were asleep on the sofa, and she sat down and gathered them into her lap. They yawned lazily, showing their pink mouths, and went back to sleep. “We don’t actually know anything for a fact, but Alejandro is determined to solve the crime on his own.”

Fatima swept him with an appreciative glance. “You look as though you could, but isn’t it the police’s job?”

“Thank you for reminding him of the obvious,” Ana offered. “He’s completely overlooked it.”

“That’s not good,” Fatima replied.

Alejandro dropped into the wing chair and called Montoya. He explained he’d had an opportunity to let Lucien Lamoreaux know he planned to go riding again that afternoon.

“Where did you begin yesterday, from the Ortiz building or from your apartment?” the Lieutenant asked.

“I keep my bike at my studio.” He gave Montoya the address, and they agreed upon a time.

“Begin there, but go a different route from yesterday. I’ll station men on bicycles nearby, and they’ll follow you at a distance. If René Charles appears and threatens to harm you in any way, they’ll arrest him. Leave everything to us.”

Alejandro ended the call. “It should work. We’ll have a lot to talk about later. Do you want me to bring dinner tonight, or would you rather go out?”

Fatima returned to the kitchen, and Ana focused on the kittens. “This could get ugly, Alejandro.”

“It could, but it won’t. Charles may not show up, but if he does, he’ll be the one being tracked. I’ll call you later.”

“Please do—and it better not be from the hospital.”

He stood and wound his fingers in her beautiful hair to pull her close for a long, deep kiss. “I wouldn’t jeopardize what we have, Ana. Trust me on this.”

He left her with the cats and Fatima for company and hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he saw them all.

There was no parking garage for Alejandro’s studio. He parked on a side street and loosened his tie as he walked toward the corner. When he heard footsteps rapidly closing in behind him, he shot a glance over his shoulder. It was all he needed to recognize the burly man from the hospital. Rather than risk fighting such a muscular brute hand-to-hand, he had to move fast. While it had been years since he’d studied karate, he’d learned his lessons well. He jumped into a flying turn and sent a savage kick into the man’s knee.

The man howled as he fell and struck his head hard on the concrete walk. Knocked out, he lay sprawled where he’d fallen, and his knife slipped from his grasp. Alejandro took a moment to catch his breath, and then pulled off his tie to secure the fallen man’s hands behind his back. He picked up the knife with his handkerchief, surprised by its weight. Jungle Warrior was stamped on the nine inch black blade. The wicked weapon looked to be the perfect for a jungle’s hazards, if not a quiet Barcelona street. He’d relied on instinct and struck first. It had saved his life.

He called Montoya before anyone walking by on the main street noticed a man down. “I’ve got him, and he needs an ambulance.” He gave his location and leaned against the ficus tree shading the sidewalk for support. He heard sirens in the distance and fought not to shake uncontrollably while he waited for the police to arrive. Rather than being frightened, however, he was enraged by how easily death could have overtaken him.

Montoya flew out of his car. Paramedics were working over the injured man and after ascertaining he was alive, Montoya crossed the sidewalk to Alejandro. “Clearly his plans didn’t coincide with ours.”

Alejandro handed him the knife. “Keep the handkerchief. He dropped this when I kicked him. He meant to attack me from behind. Fortunately, I heard him coming.”

Montoya frowned as he studied Alejandro closely. “Do you have a black belt in karate, Mr. Vasquez?”

Still shaken, Alejandro wisely kept the tree at his back. “My father feared I’d get into trouble on the docks and insisted I learn to defend myself. I didn’t earn a black belt, but mastered enough to survive today. If I’d been talking on my phone, or lost in thought, he’d have caught me.”

“Probably meant to cut your throat,” Montoya mused aloud. He called to a policeman to ask for the man’s wallet, but no identification had been found in his pockets. The officer approached to hand Alejandro his tie.

“Thank you. This is one of my favorites.” He rolled it up and shoved it into his pocket.

Montoya kept a firm hold on the knife. “He’s most likely René Charles. We didn’t release details on Jaime Campos’s murder, but this matches the murder weapon. When Charles comes to, he may implicate Lamoreaux, but even if he doesn’t, we’ll have him for Jaime’s murder and an attempt on your life.”

“See if he’ll tell you why he wanted me dead. There’s no link between Jaime and me, or Lamoreaux, for that matter.”

Montoya laughed softly. “How can you misunderstand? Miss Santillan is the link, but I try not to anticipate how a criminal will justify his misdeeds. You needn’t remain here. I’ll call you tomorrow, and we’ll arrange a time for you to give us a written statement.”

Alejandro glanced away. “Ana won’t want to hear this was about her.”

The lieutenant nodded thoughtfully. “True, but you tell her the truth, don’t you?”

Alejandro sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll wait until Charles, or whoever he actually is, tells his story.”

“A delay might be wise. I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”

The paramedics were hoisting the unconscious man’s stretcher into the ambulance. Satisfied he was no longer in danger, Alejandro struck off for home. As soon as he’d locked his door behind him, he called Ana.

“The police arrested the man they were after near my building, so there’s no reason for you to worry. I’m fine, but I’d rather not go out to dinner. What would you like me to bring tonight?”

“You’re sure you’re fine?”

He’d not seen the knife before he’d kicked Charles with brutal force. Had he known what he’d intended, he might have aimed higher and broken the fool’s neck. He’d never killed a man, and didn’t wish to begin. Still, whatever damage he’d done had been self-defense, and Montoya knew it.

“It hasn’t been a pleasant afternoon, but I’m fine. There’s not a mark on me. I promise. Montoya will let us know what he learns from René Charles, or whoever he is. Let’s forget him. Do you know a place with really good squash?”

“Squash? Do you remember the first time we went to dinner? They have excellent squash. All their vegetables are good, and you could order a steak for yourself.”

He didn’t give a damn about squash—he’d simply wanted to steer the conversation away from that afternoon. “Yes, I remember where it is. I’ll check the menu while I’m there.” He told her good-bye and laid his phone on his worktable. He looked for the kittens before remembering he’d taken them home to Ana’s. He stretched out on the futon and replayed his encounter with René. He’d reacted quickly, without wasting a second to think and thank God, it had worked. He’d thank his father for the foresight to send him to karate instruction, but the man was no longer alive to hear it.

Ana had changed from the outfit she’d worn that morning into her gold top and skirt. “Does it bother you when I say you’re beautiful?” Alejandro asked. “Have I said it too often?” He carried the take-out bags into the kitchen and pulled plates from the cupboard.

She remained by the door. “I haven’t heard it too often from you. Are you embarrassed when I compliment you?”

He swept her with a warm glance. “You don’t do it often.”

“I don’t? I’m sorry, I should. You’re a very handsome man, and you don’t gloat the way Gian Carlo does over his looks. I wonder if he’s still staying at Lourdes’s place.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Do you care?”

She hopped up behind him, slid her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his shoulders. He was deliciously solid. “No, not at all.”