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Authors: Desiree Holt,Cerise DeLand

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BOOK: Until Noon
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sent me to take a look when the incidents became more serious.”

“As they should. A night watchman was killed, and shortly after that a pipe

exploded during the transfer to a tanker and two people were killed.”

“Do we know who is responsible?” Raul asked.

“The cases are still open,” Tafoya murmured, his dark eyes troubled. “Tony was

conducting his own investigation. Very quietly. When I hired him he came on board as

a refinery worker. That gave him access to every area without piquing anyone’s

curiosity. He was also probing into who else besides us might be looking to lock up the Libyan oil reserves.”

“Someone must have been curious,” Raul commented. “Somehow he must have

yanked the wrong chain.”

“I agree.” Tafoya looked down at his desk, then back at the two of them. “He had a

meeting with someone he thought could give him key information.”

“Who was this?” Pilar asked.

“I do not know.”

Raul frowned. “He did not tell you?”

Tafoya shook his head. “No. He said it was best I did not know. Tony had his

contacts, his means. I did not demand answers. Perhaps I should have.”

“Ah, well.” Raul sighed, but a glance at Pilar told her he was worried about this.

“Each of us has contacts that are by their nature confidential. If Tony didn’t offer up names, it was best you did not know.”

38

Until Noon

Pilar sat forward. “But what about Montserrat? Did he say anything about going

there? It seems a strange place for a meeting.”

Tafoya agreed. “We have no facility or offices there. It is such a small town. Lovely, of course. A tourist attraction. Nothing else of any repute except the Benedictine

monastery. Some visitors like to hike through the rock formations but I hardly think

Tony went there for that.”

“Maybe,” Pilar said, “he chose it or the person he met there did, because it was

remote. If they met in Barcelona there’s no telling who might have had eyes on them.”

“That’s true,” Raul agreed. “
Señor
Tafoya, has the
Guardia
interviewed you yet about Tony? Have they asked for employment records?”

“Yes.” Tafoya shook his head. “Late yesterday, Enrique Petron came to see me

personally to ask questions about Tony’s service to us. But he did say that Montserrat hillside was a strange place for the body to be found. As if someone had just tossed it there. Hideous way to die. And for what?” The man’s face took on a distressed look.

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Raul assured him. “How long ago did these

incidents start,
Señor
Tafoya?”

“About six months ago. At first we marked them off as evidence of sloppy work. I

got on to my supervisors. Told them to tighten security.”

“But?”

He shrugged. “But then we discovered a few odd events occurring overnight in

places where no one was assigned to work. I added extra guards and for a while that

seemed to scare off intruders and stop the problems. But then…”

“Then?” Raul prompted.

“One of my guards was discovered in the morning, out cold with a concussion.

When he came to he said he’d heard something in one of the connection areas. When he

went to check it out he got knocked on the head. Right after that we had the explosion and another guard killed.”

“So you were unable to chalk these up as accidents anymore,” Pilar guessed. “I

wish you had let the EU know you had hired an investigator. Roca supplies so much oil to the EU that I was assigned to focus completely on what was happening here.”

“I appreciate that,
Señorita
. Forgive me for being blunt but you didn’t seem to be making a lot of progress.”

Pilar shifted, the heat of a flush crawling up her skin. “I was following a number of threads. We’ve heard chatter that the Russian mafia was trying to move in on you and I was working it from that angle.”

Raul shot her a look laced with alarm.

Not noticing his reaction to her words, Tafoya inclined his head toward her. “I

appreciate that. But I’m convinced that’s a little farfetched. I think the answer lies closer to home. Among my Spanish competitors. Some of whom are not so principled.”

39

Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand

“Do you believe your competitors would do something as vicious as blow up a line

and kill two people? Murder a guard? Kill Tony Graham? Who would you list?”

“Only one. Blanca Oil.”

Pilar blinked. That was news. Blanca had never registered on her radar as a

company that would stoop to violence. Five years ago under a different president, yes.

But not under the new one. “Blanca has a new CEO. Do you distrust
Señor
Montarosa?”

Tafoya sat stoic for a long minute. “He used to work for me. We parted badly. I do

not trust him farther than I can throw him.”

“I have examined
Señor
Montarosa and Blanca,” Pilar offered, gaining another surprised look from Raul as he took in the news. Of course, she had not told him this.

Her investigation of Blanca and its CEO had been in conjunction with another case.

Sabotage at Blanca’s refinery, in fact. One incident last summer.
Still. How coincidental…

“I find nothing in his current operations that suggest criminal activity.”

Tafoya shifted in his chair, pursing his lips. “I did not mean to offend you in any

way,
Señorita
Terrasona. I am well aware of the excellent work you do. But Blanca could do this.”

“Why?” she persisted. Blanca’s books were clean. They paid their taxes. Their

operations were efficient. Their only problem was that they needed to invest more in

their equipment, getting it up to environmental standards.

“My fears are…” Tafoya flinched. “Personal.”

“Has Montarosa threatened you? Implied in any way that he—”

“No! He wanted me to approve of him courting my daughter. I would not allow it.

He is angry.”

Pilar sat, stunned at Tafoya’s antipathy for Montarosa and yet understanding a

father’s protectiveness of his daughter. “And you think he is angry enough to sabotage your refinery?”

“Yes! No!” Tafoya cursed in rich, melodious Spanish. “I only know a thirty-five-

year-old man should not be interested in a twenty-one-year-old girl.”

My own parents had such an age diversity. Age does not define love, you idiot.
“Fourteen years is not unusual in marriages,
Señor
.”

“It is for me. For my wife.” Tafoya seethed, his hands clenched.

And your daughter? What does she say?
“I see. Did you tell Tony about these suspicions?”

“No,” he spat. “I should have.”

“Yes. Anything like this is useful to us and would have been to Tony. So then, to

your knowledge, Tony had no contact with Blanca or
Señor
Montarosa?”

“None.”

She nodded. “Very well. Nonetheless, I will interview
Señor
Montarosa.”

40

Until Noon

“Do as you must.” Tafoya swept out a hand in a gesture of irritation, obviously

incensed at being disregarded. “I want done with this problem. I simply believed we

needed another set of eyes on the situation and I hired Tony to get quick answers. Now he is dead and I am to blame for exposing him to this. But I must say I have seen no

evidence of Russian interest in our facilities here.”

Pilar struggled to keep her temper under control at Tafoya’s continued attempt to

discredit her investigation. “I understand your motives and actions. But I am concerned about any activities by Russian companies. Russia only supplies eight percent of the

world’s oil right now. If they could put Roca out of business and strike a deal with

Libya, they would put a chokehold on the EU.”

“Then I’m hoping you and
Señor
Cordona will make it your business to see that doesn’t happen.”

“If they are using criminal means to subvert you, yes, I will do all in my power to

end their activities.” She glanced over at Raul, who stared at her. She could almost hear his accusations that she had kept facts from him. Facts about the Russian mafia

interests. About their insidious involvement in everything from the value of the Euro to the fluctuating prices in the oil market. She would do her best to explain herself. And if he could not accept her explanation, if he walked out because she withheld what she

knew, then she might have created an adversary here.
Well, hell.

She and Raul were not at cross-purposes here. He was a good guy, interested in this

case because he’d been nearby and capable of assessing facts. He was even a friend of the police detective on the investigation. She would leave here, listen to his outrage and learn if she’d made a big mistake agreeing to work with him. If, indeed, last night had been an even bigger mistake. She wasn’t sure what kind of sign she was looking for

from him but he simply nodded to Tafoya as if everything were proceeding the way it

should.

The mood eased slightly when Tafoya’s assistant brought in a coffee tray and

another copy of Tony’s reports. The three of them moved over to a conversation area to scan the papers. All of Tony’s entries seemed complete, in order. Pilar detected no red flags. Indeed, Tony seemed to be finding no clues to the identity of Roca’s adversary. At the end, Tony had assured the Roca Oil president that he would report in to him

regularly.

“Why do I not officially hire you?” asked Tafoya.

Raul sat back, his brows arching in surprise. “That is not for me to decide. I am an

employee of Nemesis.”

Tafoya was gleeful as a child on Christmas morning. “I can call Maddie. She will

agree. It makes good sense.”

Pilar stood, unnerved. She could do nothing but agree. Yet would such an

arrangement set Raul as her adversary? How competitive was the man in an official

capacity rather than when he was doing a favor for a friend? This was the scenario that had destroyed her trust in Rhys. As head of security for a Welsh energy company, Rhys 41

Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand

had kept facts from her in an investigation that ultimately led them to a French terrorist group. She had found out about his secretive nature. They had fought. Rhys had

explained himself saying he needed a promotion and could not afford to let
anyone
in on what he’d learned. It was critical that he be the one to resolve things.

Pilar knew that was bullshit. What he had really needed was a salary hike to pay

his gambling debts. She had left him, cursing her stupidity and promising not to fall for any man in her line of work. Not ever again. And yet, here she stood. Shaking her head.

Watching yachts and freighters sail the harbor of Barcelona.

Raul had remained silent. “I don’t think it is a good idea.”

Really? Why not?

Tafoya laughed off his objection. “No, no. This would be good. Listen to me. I have

spoken with your owners. You were at the murder scene. You and Miss Terrasona

know each other and trust each other. I insist. I will call Maddie, make it official. What do you say?”

She turned slightly to catch Raul’s expression.

“Pilar?” Raul urged, locking his gaze on her own.

Asking for understanding in this?

She nodded. “It does make sense.”

Raul narrowed his eyes on her lips.

Don’t believe me?

She spun back to look out to sea.

Tafoya laughed, obviously jubilant at his small victory. “Wonderful. It is done then.

I will make arrangements for both of you to tour the entire facility including the storage tomorrow.”

She crossed her arms, accepting what she could not change here. She had been

thrust into a situation where she was forced to work with Raul and she needed to prove to herself she was capable of it. She had to lock away past history and deal with the here and now. As the two men talked about the terms of any Nemesis agreement, she

realized that her view of the harbor from five stories up gave her a clear sweep of the sparkling pale-jade waters. She recalled an aspect of her investigation that troubled her.

She counted Roca’s docks, the innumerable refineries, the ships sailing into Roca’s

private ports and the sailboats and yachts headed in and out of the recreational

shoreline. Three days ago, she had asked the city’s maritime commission for a map of

the coastline with property ownership lists included. She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. Why hadn’t she gotten those documents yet?
It cannot take that long to
find a schematic and lists that should be in their files. At their fingertips.

She cocked an ear on the men’s conversation. Raul said he was confused by one

matter and she turned toward the two who still sat at the table.

42

Until Noon

“I have a question about the last entry in Tony’s daily reports.” Raul pointed to the paper. “Look here. He hired a maritime surveillance team to take him out of the harbor and chart your private waterfront.”

“He told me he needed to do this,

. I told him this was not necessary, that the maritime commission had maps. He could call them, but Tony said he had done it

already and that they were too slow to provide copies to him.”

Very slow. For both Tony and me. Interesting.

Raul shook his head, a dog with a bone, and he wasn’t letting go. “Tony made a

reservation to sail out today.”

“This is true.” Tafoya was nodding, agreeing.

“But he does not record here which company he hired. Do you know?”

Tafoya threw up his hands. “He did not tell me.”

“But he would have billed the service to Roca.”

Tafoya shook his head, his eyes blank with innocence. “
Sí.
This is so. But I assume because he did not take the journey, they did not invoice us.”

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