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Authors: Susan Crosby

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BOOK: Hot Contact
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Thirteen

A
rianna arrived at her office early the next morning. Only one other car was in the parking lot—Sam's. She went directly to his office, hoping he had information for her.

“You look like hell,” he said when he spotted her.

“You're so good for a girl's ego.” She sat in a chair opposite his desk. “You don't look so spit and polished yourself.”

“Missing my wife. But I'm getting on a plane in a couple of hours for D.C.” He leaned back. “What's going on?”

She gave him a rundown of what they'd learned yesterday. He let out a low whistle. “Tough day for both of you. I take it you didn't get much sleep last night.”

“Actually, I slept pretty well.” Every time she woke up, Joe's arms were still around her. The nightmare didn't surface, maybe because she knew her father's killer was dead. But still there were other questions that needed to be an
swered before she could put it all to rest. She also had to come to terms with the fact that her father wasn't what he'd seemed to be. And that her mother had lied to her all these years, long after it was necessary to protect Arianna the child.

“Have you moved in with Vicente?” Sam asked.

“Just until we're done finding out what we need to know.”

“Enjoying yourself, Ar?”

She found she could smile. “He's…different.”

“You can't lead him around by the nose.”

For a second she thought she should be offended. However, it's hard to offend with the truth. She liked strong men. She just didn't date them. She didn't like the fight for control that always occurred. “Lovely image, Sam.”

“If the nose ring fits…”

She laughed.

He passed her a sheet of paper. “Here's the address on Fred Zamora. Retired a few years ago.”

“He lives in San Francisco?”

“Has a daughter there and a couple of grandkids. Will you go up and see him?”

“Definitely.”

“Want to meet Doc while you're there and check him out?”

“Sure. He's interested in working for us?”

Sam shrugged. “I wouldn't go that far. But he said he'd talk. Here's his phone number.”

“Do we know his real name?”

“Nope. And we probably won't unless we hire him.”

“Frankly, I can't imagine him giving up his independence. He gives a whole new meaning to
private
investigator.” She stood. “Tell the senator hello for me.”

“If we find time to talk, I will.”

She smiled as she made her way to her office. When Nate had fallen in love last year, it had changed him a little, settled him in a way Arianna never thought to see him settled. But when Sam fell in love it had opened floodgates. Maybe only someone who knew him as well as she did would see the difference, but they were obvious to Arianna. He smiled more, laughed more, got out in public more. He might not have rivaled Doc for privacy, but he had come close.

She called Joe as soon as she sat at her desk. “I've got an address and phone number for Fred Zamora. He's in San Francisco. Want to fly up there tomorrow?”

“Definitely. We should probably call ahead, though. It's not like we can just drop in and expect him to be home.”

She wanted to catch Zamora off guard, as they had Mary Beth Horvath. Arianna glanced at the second sheet of paper that Sam had given her. “Let me work on that. In the meantime I'll get us booked on a flight for early in the morning. Do you like a window or aisle seat?”

“Aisle.”

“We have a problem, then, Detective.”

“Big surprise. You like aisle, too.”

She heard the smile in his voice. She wished she was there, kissing that smile right off his face. She'd deprived herself of a kiss goodbye this morning, just like yesterday. It had seemed too domestic, as if he would expect more of her because of it. “Yes, I like aisle, too,” she confirmed.

“We'll flip for it.”

She grinned. “A gentleman would give up his seat to a lady.”

“What's your point?”

She doodled on a piece of paper. “Maybe I'll get us two aisle seats.”

“Suit yourself. By the way, we're going to the movies tonight.”

“We are? Why?”

“Because we've been cooped up for too long.”

“You mean
you've
been cooped up,” she said, but with real sympathy.

“I can't say the rooster has minded being stuck with the chick, but there's more to life than this investigation. Consider this an intervention.”

“It's for my own good?”

“And mine.”

“Okay.”

“Want to know what we'll be seeing?” he asked.

“Surprise me.”

“Remember you said that.”

After she hung up she looked at what she'd doodled. A heart. A great big heart with an arrow shot through it and the initials A.A. and J.V. She snatched up the sheet and put it down the shredder in the open cabinet behind her, her heart pounding.

It was because he was taking her out on a date, a real date, like in high school, that she'd drawn what she had. A momentary return to adolescence, that was all.

That was all, she repeated to herself, then looked at her watch. How long should she wait to contact Doc? She decided to try him at a more decent hour. She certainly had plenty to keep her busy in the meantime.

The problem was, for the first time since they'd started ARC, she didn't want to be at work. She ignored the stack of paperwork in her in-basket and logged onto the Internet, then she did some research on Alzheimer's disease until the staff began arriving and she had questions to answer and calls to field.

Finally she called Doc. She wondered how old he was
and what he looked like. She needed to remember to ask Sam.

“Good morning. This is Arianna Alvarado from ARC Security & Investigations,” she said when he answered.

“Morning.”

“Sam says you might be interested in joining our company.”

“I might.”

“Yes, he stressed that. I find I have to be in San Francisco tomorrow, and I'd like for us to meet, if you've got the time.”

“I'll make time.”

“Good. I also have a job I could use your help with, if you're interested.”

She told him she needed to know if Fred Zamora was at home now, and then again tomorrow morning, so that she and Joe wouldn't waste their trip.

He was silent for several seconds. “You want to pay what I charge for a surveillance assignment that any kid with the ink still fresh on his license could do?”

“That's right.”

“It's your money.”

She could almost hear his shrug. “You'll do it?”

“Sure. What time is your flight?”

“Eight-thirty.”

“Give me your cell number. I'll call you in time to cancel your flight if he's not home. If he's home, do you want me to stay there until you arrive? Follow him if he leaves?”

“Yes. Can we meet in the afternoon to talk business?”

“You've got my number.”

After Arianna hung up she went to see Sam, who was packing his briefcase, ready to leave for the airport. “Are you sure we should be pursuing this guy, Doc?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You know how important communication skills are with our clients. We've got to be part psychologist. Doc is…brusque.”

“I didn't notice that. Maybe he doesn't like women bosses.” He grinned.

“Then we definitely don't want him.”

“Give him a chance, Ar. Maybe you woke him up or something.”

“Okay.” She started to leave but turned back. “What's he look like, anyway?”

“Our age, my height and build. Black hair. Looks like he's won a fight or two in his life.” He locked his desk drawer. “I'm out of here. I'll be on the red-eye Sunday night. See you Monday morning.”

Arianna headed back to her office. She didn't envy him his commuter marriage. But at least he had someone to go home to, even if only on weekends for now.

She stopped just inside her door. Someone to go home to? When had she started envying that?

“Mija?”

Arianna was proud of the fact that she didn't jump at the sound of her mother's voice. She turned around slowly.

“I'm not ready to talk to you yet,” Arianna said, crossing her arms.

“I am your mother and you will listen.”

Paloma pushed past Arianna and took a seat on the sofa. Not willing to make a scene in front of her staff, Arianna shut the door then leaned against it.

“I am sorry for causing you pain,” Paloma said. “It was what I'd been trying to prevent all these years. You must believe me.”

“I do—for when I was a child. You could have told me as an adult. And you certainly could've told me two weeks ago when I came to you and said I was going to investigate
on my own. Think of all the trouble you could have prevented.”

“I wanted you to keep your faith about your father. No matter what happened between him and me, he was a good father. And a good police officer. It was important to me that you remember him that way.”

“He wasn't what he seemed.”

“That had nothing to do with you or your relationship with him. There were things that happened between us that you don't know about. Things—”

“No!” Arianna came toward her mother. “I don't want to know, okay? Your marriage is private. I really don't want to talk about any of this.”

“There is one thing you should know.” Paloma put her shoulders back. “Mike Vicente was in love with me.”

A hammer against her skull would've had less impact, Arianna thought, staggered. “I don't believe it.”

“I am not bragging. I am ashamed, in fact. But Estebán convinced me that I needed to tell you the final truth. Now you know it all.”

“I do not believe it.” In her head Arianna heard Joe talk about his parents, about their friendship and love and respect for each other.

“I'm not saying he acted on his feelings for me. He didn't. And in retrospect I understand that he was drawn to me—and you, in a way—as strong men are drawn to helpless women. He wanted to take care of us.”

“And what did you do?”

“I used that love, or most likely infatuation, to get what I wanted.”

“To get my father's case declared unsolved so that I wouldn't know he'd been having an affair.”

“Yes. And I would do it again.”

“How did you end things with Mr. Vicente?”

“Gently. Will you tell his son?”

“I don't see how I can't. What's one more disappointment? Might as well get them all over with.”

Paloma closed her eyes for a few seconds. “We're all human,
mija.
It was a horrible time in my life. I am not proud of how I dealt with your father, nor of how I tempted Mike with promises of more. I have tried to make amends by living a charitable life since then. I made a mistake, a big one, but I learned from it. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Maybe. In time, Arianna thought. In time. “I can't talk to you any more, Mom.”

Her mother stood. She gripped Arianna's shoulders.
“Te amo, mija.”

“I love you, too. I just need to figure out what I'm feeling now.”

“All right.” She left the room, her scent lingering.

Arianna couldn't stand to be there a moment longer. Joe. She wanted to see Joe. She had to tell him. God. What else were they going to learn? How many more earth-shattering revelations were ahead? Would Fred Zamora have a few?

She grabbed her purse and headed for the front door, then detoured to Nate's office.

“Hey,” she said from his doorway.

He looked up, started to speak but rose instead and came to her. He tugged on her arm until she was inside the door, which he shut behind her.

He held her by her shoulders. “What's going on, Ar?” he asked.

“Too much to explain right now. I just wanted to let you know that I'm taking the day off. Can you field the calls?”

“Sure.” He released her. “I don't think I've seen that look on your face since we thought we were going to die.”

“I haven't felt this way since then.” Hollow and scared.

“Is it Vicente? Is he giving you grief?”

“No. I'm about to give him some, and I hate the thought of doing it.” She drew a deep breath. “I'll see you later.”

“I'll be around all weekend if you need me.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Arianna rolled all the windows down in the car before she headed out of the parking lot. Her hair blew wildly, her skin chilled. She tried to let her mind go blank. Soon she was passing the house where Joe's father lived. She saw Joe's car out front and pulled up behind it. Almost blindly she walked up to the front door and knocked. A middle-aged woman answered. Her eyes were kind.

“Hi,” Arianna said. “I'm here to see Mike Vicente. I see Joe's car out front. Would you let him know Arianna is here, please.”

“You can just go back. Do you know where his room is?”

“Yes. Are you sure?” she asked, worried about surprising them.

“I'm sure.” She smiled. “Mike loves company.”

Arianna almost tiptoed down the hall. The door to Mike's room was open. She could hear Joe talking.

“I'll only be gone one day, Dad. I'll bring you a loaf of sourdough. Would you like that?”

She didn't hear an answer.

“You took me to San Francisco when I was sixteen. We went to watch the Dodgers play the Giants the final game of the season. I've never forgotten that. The Dodgers won in the twelfth inning.”

Arianna stepped into the doorway. Joe was massaging lotion into his father's feet. His tender touch broke her heart. His gentle smile for his father made her eyes sting.

How could she tell him his father had been in love with another woman? How could she?

BOOK: Hot Contact
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