Holiday Havoc (13 page)

“You—you're Maria Fuentes. High school Maria Fuentes.” His voice held just a hint of accusation.

“Yes.” Maria poked lettuce with her fork, calmly took a bite.

When he continued to stare at her, she motioned to his plate. “You can eat now.”

Ben still didn't move. “I don't know what to say.”

“My aunt had this cross-stitch on her wall. I always thought it was really cheesy, but now—I think it's true. It said, ‘Wherever God closes a door, he opens a window.'”

“Your window was crime scene investigation?”

She smiled. “I don't know if you've noticed this because I've been on my best behavior, but I'm very tenacious. That quality makes me a good fit for CSI. I like my life.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” He still hadn't taken another bite of his salad.

That was a good question. Why hadn't she told him? “I remembered losing that scholarship as being so humiliating. I guess it was, to a seventeen-year-old.”

“And look at you now.”

She laughed. “Yes, because I always wear velvet and diamonds.”

Their private dinner passed with quiet conversation, laughter and animated talk of new technologies. For each of them as teenagers, science had been an escape. Now it was common ground.

As the coffee was served, Ben stood. “I need to go tuck Caden into bed. You can come, if you like.”

Cops weren't scared of cute little boys—or their handsome dads.

Maria followed Ben to Caden's suite. Like hers, it had a small kitchen and a private sitting room. Unlike hers, there were baskets of toys and little trucks. On the bed was a spread covered with colorful freight trains.

“Story time, Daddy!” Caden bounced on the bed, his fresh-from-the-bath hair sticking out from his head.

“One story, Capo, because it's time for you to go to sleep.” Ben held out his hand. Caden handed him his favorite book.

As Ben read, using silly voices and making bug-eyed faces, Caden giggled. Then slowly, his eyes got heavy as he played with the floppy ears of his stuffed bunny. He was so adorable, obviously bright. She couldn't imagine what it must've been like for Ben to see that bright light trapped inside Caden's little body and be afraid he would never be able to communicate.

They were so blessed.

As Ben finished the book, Caden held up his arms for a hug. Ben hugged.

The nanny, Julia, hugged.

“Her, too.” Caden's voice, so sleepy seconds ago, piped up from the bed.

Ben's gray eyes were apologetic, asking for her understanding. “You don't have to—but it's sort of a ritual now. Hugs from everyone before bed.”

“It's fine, Ben. I've got at least a dozen nieces and nephews—I'm familiar with bedtime rituals.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “'Night, Caden. I'll see you in the morning?”

He nodded. “Sing?”

She looked at Ben, who shrugged. So this was a departure from the ritual. “I have a niece about your age who comes to stay with me sometimes. She likes to hear ‘Twinkle, Twinkle' before she goes to sleep.”

“Sing,” Caden commanded.

“All right, Captain Caden. You lay your head on the pillow and I'll sing you a song.”

Maria sang the words to the simple nursery rhyme. In a few seconds, she felt a warm hand nestle into hers. She was having a little trouble catching her breath as she squeezed the little hand.

She looked at Ben, whose eyes were wide, and thought,
God, I could really use some air about now. Do You think You could open a window?

C
offee on the terrace with the film crew was less than stellar for Ben. It was a little hard to keep his mind on saying the right thing when his insides were all jumbled up. He kept replaying in his head that single moment when his four-year-old had put his chubby little hand in Maria's.

For a normal kid, maybe that wasn't such a big thing, but for a kid like Caden—it was huge. It hadn't been so long ago when doctors were warning him it might be unrealistic to expect affection from Caden. The reality was that Caden was not only capable of showing affection, he did—often. But usually only with family, which made those moments with Maria all the more remarkable.

As the film crew packed up and left, he joined Maria at the balcony rail. The breeze was stiff, yet she leaned into it, her eyes closed, lashes a lacy semicircle on her cheeks.

She shivered.

Ben pulled off his sport coat and draped it around her shoulders, pulling her close into his side. “You're an incredible woman, Maria Fuentes.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“That's just it. There are no other girls.” Yeah, he said it out loud and he probably should have been embarrassed, but he wasn't. It was freeing to have her know him—and she did. She knew his past and she most definitely knew his present. He wasn't sure about the future yet, but now that he'd found her he wasn't sure he wanted to let go of her.

She laughed softly. “I bet you say
that
to all the girls, too.”

“You know what I find the most incredible? You've seen me at my absolute worst. Literally gasping for air. You've seen what my life is like, how hard we have to work every day just to achieve a little bit of normal. And yet, you didn't run screaming from the building.” He tugged her closer to see what she would do. She didn't move away. Maybe she snuggled a little closer.

“And my hair's not on fire and I'm not in need of medication. Contrary to what you might think, Ben, your life is not that weird compared to what I see on a regular basis.”

He turned her to face him, searching her beautiful golden-brown eyes. “Are you still sorry your coworkers sent your name in for this contest?”

Maria made a face, contemplating her answer—and his stomach twisted. “They're still going to pay. But how could I be sorry?”

Sliding his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, he cupped her face in his hands. He kept forgetting how small she was, how beautiful. It snuck up on him. He placed his lips at her hairline by the temple and felt her tremble.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, just holding her.

His phone beeped in his pocket. He sighed. “I have to go.”

She stepped out of his arms and slid his coat off her shoulders. “I'll be here when you get back. And Ben, I know I can't go with you to this one, but please—be careful.”

 

With Ben at a meeting, Maria changed into flannel PJs and pulled the file from the fax machine. Evidence was empirical—it made sense, even when people's actions didn't.

She sipped her cup of coffee and tried not to think about how long it would take Ben to get back from his meeting of weather forecasters. He'd decided to go it alone rather than call attention to himself by having her along. She still wasn't sure she agreed that it was the safest action to take.

From her first cursory glance at the reports, Ben's wife's car wreck looked like an accident. She'd been on her way home from an out-of-town meeting. Her power steering had failed as she went too fast around a curve. Unable to keep the car on the road, she hit a tree before she could adequately slow down. The car exploded on impact.

The accident had taken place on a back road in Georgia and was investigated by the local cops, who had documented the scene. Pictures had low resolution over a fax, but as she studied the pages, what happened that night became more and more clear.

The elevator chimed softly. Ben stepped off, his navy sport coat draped over his arm. Even tired and worried, he was so handsome it was ridiculous. When he caught sight of her on the sofa, he smiled.

The slow spread across his face started an equal spread of warmth in her belly. She leaned into the cushions, wrapping her old gray sweater tighter around her. She hadn't often felt in danger—she'd been taught from an early age to defend herself, but how did a girl defend herself from that smile?

“Work?” He dropped onto the couch beside her and gestured at the papers on the coffee table.

She drew in a breath, not sure how to tell him what she suspected. “Not exactly.”

“Those are evidence reports, right?” He reached for the papers on the table, then stopped with his hand in mid-air. “May I?”

“It's your wife's accident report.”

His hand dropped to his knee. “What?”

She shrugged, the warmth replaced by a queasy insecurity. “After we talked earlier, I wanted to check it out, make sure the investigators didn't miss anything.”

He stood, paced to the wide windows, where she could still see the twinkling patio lights from their intimate dinner. “I don't know what made you think you had the right.”

His words were toneless, very unlike the Ben she'd come to know. But she'd touched a raw place—and he was protecting himself, and probably Caden, too, in the only way he knew how. She couldn't let it get to her. “It's what I do, Ben.”

Even knowing why he reacted that way, it hurt. She retreated to evidence, her comfort zone. “There are some things that you might want to see in this report.”

“Maria, I don't know how to make it any more clear that I don't want to discuss my wife's death. It was a horrible accident.” His eyes were full of pain, even after
two years, and she didn't blame him. The mother of his child had been killed.

“It wasn't an accident,” she blurted. “At least, I don't think it was.”

“Are you serious? You haven't physically seen the evidence, and from a report you can put together something that the cops couldn't and didn't?” He shook his head. “No. I don't believe it.”

She stood and laid the pages out on the coffee table. “You're a scientist. I know it's hard to be objective here, but follow the evidence with me. Look at the damage report to the car. There's damage on the driver's side of the car that isn't consistent with her running into the tree and the car exploding. It looks more like someone forced her off the road.”

Ben whipped his head up to meet her eyes. “Someone did this deliberately?”

“The report says that the seal on her power steering was stripped. I don't think that's a coincidence. If someone forced her off the road, with no power steering she might not have had the skills to avoid a crash.”

“She was
murdered?
” He jolted to his feet and paced away, only to turn back, the awful truth sinking in.

“The police report says that the driver's side damage means she probably bounced off another tree. But if she had, it would've affected the trajectory. And look at the tire tracks in this photograph. Straight tracks down the hill. There's no way she hit another tree.”

His hands turned up in a position of surrender. “I don't even know what to say. I never imagined that she might've been—I never imagined it.”

Maria stacked the pages and closed the file. “We need
another list. One with names of people who might have something against either you or your wife.”

His horrified eyes met hers. “I was supposed to be in the car with her that night. She'd been speaking about her charity at a Rotary Club meeting in that little town and I was going to go with her, but Capo was fussing with the sitter. He had a cold and wouldn't settle down. I stayed home.”

Her heart went out to him, but she couldn't give him sympathy, couldn't allow him to fall apart. It was too important that they get to the bottom of this. “Whoever it was tried to kill both of you. They didn't know you weren't in the car until it was too late.”

“I can't believe this. How could the police miss it?”

“Easy. They believed it was an accident so they looked for confirmation. They saw the unexplained dents and rationalized them away. It happens.”

He turned back to her, his skin ashen. “I'm sorry, Maria. I just can't take this in. Do you mind if we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow will be fine, Ben. Let it process.”

“I'm addressing the conference in the morning at ten.”

“You should have a whole team protecting you at an event like this. I could call a few friends—”

“No. It would leak to the media and this can't become about me and a stalker. It has to be about the date, about the network and the future.”

She paced the room, too, ending up by the Christmas tree, its peaceful beauty doing nothing to calm savage nerves. “I need to be where I can see the room tomorrow.”

“What if I bring you up and introduce you as the woman who survived a date with me? We'll make it funny.” Ben walked to the tree and reached for her hand, sliding her fingers through his. “I'm thankful you're here—that you're walking through this craziness with me.”

“Yeah, I'm thankful, too.” Her dry tone made him chuckle and he put his arms around her.

“I'm serious, Maria. I know this weekend has been anything but fun for you, but in spite of everything, being with you makes it bearable. I said it earlier and I meant it—you're beautiful, inside and out. I never expected that.”

Her heart was rattling inside her chest. She laced her fingers tighter into his. “I think you're overwhelmed by all that's happened. Maybe you're more emotional than usual. When you take a step back, you'll realize that you needed a friend, and I was here.”

Very gently, he tipped her chin up and brushed his lips across hers. Her breath caught in her chest, unwanted moisture springing to her eyes.

He tilted his head back and looked at her again, his eyes narrowed. “Nope, sorry. That didn't feel like friends to me.”

She pulled her hand free. Flattening both hands on his chest, she gave him a gentle push.
“Tú eres un sabihondo.
I'll see you in the morning.”

He chuckled as he backed away from her. “You know, I've spent a lot of time in Latin American countries. I know you just called me a know-it-all.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here, weather boy.”

As he disappeared into his bedroom, with shaking hands she gathered the papers from the accident report
and walked back to her suite. It took three tries to get the key card to work but finally it did.

There had been so much change in such a small space of time. Her mind was reeling.
Dear God, what should I do?

People weren't scientific. How did she deal with this, with these feelings for Ben, which were getting stronger every time she was around him?

It was hard to put a name to them, they were many and varied, but she could identify the most pressing. Fear. She'd watched her friends and siblings fall in love and get married, have children. She'd never dared to even imagine that such life could be for her. Happily-ever-after was a fairy tale that happened to other people.

But Ben made her dream, which seemed to her a surefire recipe for disaster.

 

Ben had the whole ballroom rocking with laughter. He was pretty sure that it was the story about the bee stinging him on camera that won them over, though the video of the slide into a mud-filled canal during a typhoon in Japan had been epic. He waited for the laughter to die down. “Working for Weather 24 has been an adventure every day.
Weather
is an adventure. I love it.

“I wouldn't do this job if I didn't have a passion for the weather and how it affects our lives—our basic human condition. We report the weather, yes, but we also live it. In doing so, we have the rare opportunity to bring the world closer together. The mother in Little Rock can experience what's going on in Indonesia. The businessman in Prague can understand the tourist industry in Mazatlan and the climate that fuels it.”

His heart pounded. He was so close, so incredibly close to finishing this. Ben's gaze connected with Maria's. She was standing to his left at the corner of the stage. Her hair was pulled back into a low, smooth ponytail. In a few, short days, she'd come to mean a lot to him, and six months ago he couldn't have imagined that he would ever have feelings for another woman besides his wife.

Everything changed.

“I've loved every minute of my job with Weather 24, but it's time for me to move on.” The audible gasp from the floor amused him. Truthfully, he would've reacted the same way ten years ago when he was first starting out. What kind of idiot would leave a sweet job like his voluntarily?

He looked at his notes and then set them aside, deciding to talk impromptu to the men and women, many of whom he'd known for years. “My friends, I would say this to you. Be passionate about life, share your love and don't be afraid to reinvent yourself.”

Ben picked up his notes and left the podium as the room erupted in applause. Cameras flashed. He reached Maria's side and took her arm.

“Other side.” She moved to partially shield him from the crowd. Clearly uneasy, her eyes darted back and forth in the crowded ballroom. “We've got to get out of here.”

Something popped and a vase on the stage exploded, sending shards of glass flying, water and flowers spilling onto the stage floor.

Where there had been applause, screams now echoed. People knocked over chairs to get out of the ballroom.

Ben couldn't make sense of the chaos. Maria stopped
pretending to walk and gripped his arm, nearly dragging him out double doors into a service hall that ran behind the ballroom.

After they cleared the room, Maria didn't slow down. She hustled him down the hall toward more doors, her gun in her hand.