Color of Danger Page 8
Luke smiled. Mari didn’t try to appeal to men, or to him, in particular, and that made her more appealing. He was always confident with women, but with Mari, he found himself wondering what she thought of him.
They sat down, and Luke said grace.
“Amen,” Mari said in a barely audible whisper.
His heart warmed. Maybe one day, she could become a believer. He’d do his best to help her.
Nowa left her now empty dish and took sentry duty near Mari. The light filtered into the room, filling it with sunshine. He took several bites but paid attention to the street through the window. A patrol car passed by several times. Probably Aidan or Derek were checking up on Mari.
“This is delicious.” She was putting a dent in her omelet. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m meeting with Larry Stephenson, June’s father, at noon,” Luke said. “Interested?”
The light in her eyes dimmed for a moment, as if she didn’t want to be reminded about the murder. “Sure. We can meet him at my office. It’s private enough. At least, it was before I found a woman’s head there.”
“We’ll be there.” He finished his own portion of omelet too soon.
Mari got up and collected the dishes to put in the dishwasher. Notwithstanding the grave circumstances, he… enjoyed this Saturday breakfast with her. When she forgot about her thorns — or daggers — she could be a pleasure to be with.
“Finally my stove is getting a workout. Dishwasher, too. I rarely eat at home. When I do, I just use Nowa as a dishwasher.” The corners of her mouth moved up. “Just kidding about the last one.”
She returned with ice cream bars and devoured hers while she handed him one. “Apparently I still have some things in my freezer. This is so good.” She licked her lips.
The gesture drew his attention to her lips, totally void of lipstick. What would it feel like to kiss them? Probably soft, sweet, and tender, all the things Mari wasn’t. Nah, it would feel like the slap in the face Mari would undoubtedly give him. That was more like it.
Void of lipstick. While her mirror was smeared with it. He sobered up. Why did he think about kissing her and touching her? He couldn’t like her. He was used to control, predictability, rationalism. Mari Del Lobo was anything but those things.
But she was a woman in danger, and as she wouldn’t accept protection from the police, he’d be the one to keep her safe. Even if she was Antonio’s sister.
The ice cream was sweet and creamy, but Luke finished it quicker than he wanted. “Did you check on Tara? How’s she?”
Mari’s gaze dimmed further. “She’s feeling better. But the tests showed a large dosage of epinephrine. Most likely, that’s what caused her seizures. The thing is, she doesn’t take epinephrine.”
He gritted his teeth. “So the cookies were most likely poisoned. It could’ve been you in the hospital. Or worse. I take it the results of the tests on the cookies are not back yet?”
“I called Derek. He said the lab is closed for the weekend, and it takes time to process the evidence.” Her gaze lingered on his eyes and then on his lips. She licked her own.
Did she think about kissing him, too? His heartbeat increased, and he rose to his feet.
Mari looked away. “Well, time’s up. I need to go to work. I’ll see you at noon.”
She walked to the door.
“Are you still going there alone after what I told you?” He followed her. “The Café means more to you than your life?”
“The Café is my life. I’ve got commitments to my business and my employees. Hmm, I sound so responsible I surprise myself. Besides, I’m in as much danger here as I am at The Café.” She gave Nowa a quick rub and stepped out the door. “Bye, Nowa. Please behave while I’m gone.”
Luke scanned the street. Mari did the same. Then she turned around and locked the place. He’d have to stick close to her at The Café and at the festival. He walked to his car, keeping Mari in his peripheral vision.
While he admired her courage, the escalating threats meant she should be very, very afraid. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be careful. He didn’t need to teach her how to defend herself. He needed to teach her to be scared.
* * *
At noon sharp, a knock on the office door made Mari wince. Meeting with a grieving father couldn’t be easy, but if it could provide any clues to June’s murder, it had to be done.
“Mari, it’s us.” Luke’s deep voice filtered through the door.
She rushed to open it.
Luke stepped inside, accompanied by a fifty-something gentleman who was wearing an expensive but wrinkled suit and a gaunt look in his faded eyes.
She offered her hand, which was accepted with a feeble handshake. “I’m Mari Del Lobo. I’m very sorry for your loss. Please take a seat.” She gestured to a cozy leather armchair. “Would you like some water? Coffee? Tea?”
“I’m Larry Stephenson. And no, thank you.” He fell into the chair as if his legs wouldn’t hold him any longer. “The police are investigating June’s death. But Luke said you were looking at… a different angle. I want to know who’s done this to my daughter.”
“We’re not trying to interfere with the police investigation. And anything you tell us will be disclosed to the police if it looks like it’s going to be useful to them,” Luke said as he took a chair.
“But if we can help find the murderer, we’ll do our best.” Mari leaned forward.
“I’ll answer any questions you have.” A cough shook Larry’s body.
Mari poured a glass of water from a decanter without asking this time and placed it in front of him. “Why did you fly to see your daughter? It wasn’t a regular visit, was it?”
Larry’s hands trembled as he took the water and drank a long sip. His teeth chattered against the glass. “She asked me to come. She said she needed to talk to me. In person. She didn’t say why. She was acting a bit strangely lately. Nervous. Subdued.”
“Sorry to mention this, but was there a new man in her life?” Mari asked.
“I don’t think so. She was faithful. I raised her right.” Larry’s back straightened. “She wanted to leave her husband because of his gambling. Not because she had someone. For the same reason she changed her life insurance.”
“Who was her insurance agent?” Mari asked.
Larry mentioned a name she didn’t recognize.
“How did she find out about his gambling problem?” Luke shifted in his chair.
“A text message. Anonymous.”
Luke and Mari exchanged a glance. That sounded familiar.
She drummed her fingers against the desk. “Besides gambling, did June suspect her husband of having an affair?”
“She told me she smelled perfume on his shirts several times. But as a sales manager, he worked with several women. I know one of them well. She assured me that if anything was going on in the office, she’d hear about it.”
“Do you know what the scent was like? What perfume?” Luke asked.
He shook his head. “No.”
“What time was your flight?” Mari asked.
A shaky smile touched Larry’s lips. “I was on the plane when June was killed. I have ticket stubs to prove it. I didn’t kill my daughter.”
Her face heating up, Mari looked down. Just because her father was a monster didn’t mean that others were, too.
After a quick thanks and good-bye, Luke left to drop off Larry at the Rios Azules Inn where Larry was staying. Mari looked through June’s pictures she’d found on the Internet. A figure in one of blurry photos was mostly cut off but looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place the person. Filing it away in her mind for later, Mari listened to the interviews with June’s co-workers and friends Luke had e-mailed her. Overall June looked like a responsible, kind, and honest person whose only mistake was marrying a gambling addict.
Why was she chosen as a victim? And what connection did she have to the story of the Smiling Killer?
* * *
The festival was still in full motion. She glanced around. They had a carnival, rodeo, concerts, dancing, a Wild West performance, booths with every souvenir imaginable. The festival drew nice crowds every year, and her booth had a long line of customers.
Lydia was working side by side with her, cleaning corn husks and handling the tickets.
She gave Mari a sympathetic smile. “Would you like to take a break?”
“Nope.” The scent coming from the corn and butter made Mari’s mouth water. She hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. But she couldn’t leave Lydia to handle the crowd by herself. “I’m fine.”
Mari’s body moved fast to serve the customers, but her mind was gnawing on the clues left on June Stephenson’s body like a hungry dog on a fresh bone.
Mari took a couple of greedy sips of icy water and resisted the urge to pour the cold water over her head. “What bright mind decided to have the festival at the end of summer? It’s South Texas!”
“It was established decades ago. It’s a tradition now.” Lydia cleaned another ear of corn from its husks and handed it to Mari. Lydia’s smile showed dimples on her slightly plump cheeks. Only Mari knew how much this outward happiness cost Lydia, but even she was fooled sometimes.
Grunting, Mari grilled more corn and passed it to the line. “I’ll probably see corn in my sleep tonight. Tradition or no tradition, I don’t give a… fish tail. It’s so hot I could fry eggs on the asphalt.”
Lydia handled tickets and husks, her blonde pony-tail swaying as she moved. “If you decided to take up cooking.”
“True. Grilling corn is as far as I’m willing to go.”
“We’ll be done soon.” Lydia was always optimistic. Except when her sister had died. From Tony’s hand.
Mari pushed the thought away. She couldn’t correct what her brother had done. And she couldn’t make up for it. There was no way to make up for it.
Lydia took a ticket from another happy customer. “We’re going to be relieved soon.”
Sweat trickled down Mari’s back. “Next year, only one booth.”
Of course, if she lived until the next year. Mari squared her shoulders. She had to make it and protect those she cared about. She scanned the crowd again, probably the tenth time in the last half hour.
The killer could be here.
Anywhere.
She had her gun in her right boot, strapped to her ankle, and her knife in the left one. She’d have put the gun in the holster on her waist, but it would make a too noticeable bulge underneath her turquoise apron with a goldfish applique. She spotted Derek on patrol and then Aidan, and it gave her some reassurance.
The country music floated to her, and then the sound of tap dancing from one of the stages. Mari sighed.
“Do you regret leaving the band?” Lydia asked.
“No. Rios Azules didn’t need a rock band. Past is the past.”
But now, her past might be catching up to her. Mari tensed. In the morning, she’d read the files Luke had sent her. Maybe June’s murder had no connection to her, and the hate mail was just that. But why had someone locked her in the freezer? Why had someone tried to break into her home?
While handing over a steaming corn on the cob, she nodded at several people she knew. Then her heart jumped. Luke joined the line. She almost dropped the corn but caught it in time and returned to her duties.
Of course the handsome doctor only needed her as a path to her infamous brother, who he thought was alive. She was the means to the goal for Luke, nothing more. She’d be smart to remember that. She focused on giving the corn to the crowd.
Was Luke still mourning the loss of his fiancée? The fiancée who’d been killed by Mari’s brother. Why did the first man she’d been attracted to in years have to have this horrible connection to her family?
She forced herself to work faster. Luke was right. She had to stop feeling guilty about what Tony had done. It was bad enough she felt guilty about what she’d done, and it was ripping her apart.
Luke showed up in front of her sooner than she was ready for it.
“One corn on the cob. I’d also like to talk to you. Would it be possible for you to take a break? I’d love to buy dinner for you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Not a good sign. But obviously, he was just using her to track her brother. Mari lifted her chin and handed him the corn on the cob. “Enjoy. No, thanks about dinner. I have to take care of my customers. Besides, I’m not hungry.”
Her stomach growled, and Luke arched an eyebrow. He stepped aside as she helped the next customer.
“You can totally take a break. I see the waiters coming up,” Lydia said, being her usual kind self.
Mari glared at her. But her waiters were indeed walking across the lawn, so she didn’t have an excuse anymore. Besides, she’d promised to help him. Luke might have new information about the recent victim. She could control her weird attraction to him, couldn’t she?
“It’s important,” Luke added, a solemn request in his gorgeous blue eyes.
Lives, including her own, could be at stake, so she could put her pride aside. “Okay. Fair warning, though. I eat a lot. Between Aidan and myself, we could consume what an elephant eats. Or eat an elephant, for that matter.”
He cast a doubtful gaze at her obviously slim figure.
“She once won a hotdog-eating contest.” Lydia placed a plate in front of her. “Here, Mar. You might as well try what you’ve been serving all day.”
Two of her waiters took the next shift, and Mari handed over the apron and the knife.
“Would you like to join us?” Luke asked Lydia.
Lydia shook her head. “No, thank you.”
Watching Lydia walk to her car, Mari took the plate and dragged her exhausted feet to the nearest empty table. As she took a seat, she caught Aidan’s gaze and nodded in Lydia’s direction. Aidan followed Lydia.
“You’re worried about her,” Luke said.
Mari winced. How did he guess?
“Lydia already suffered because of me… because of my family once. I can’t let it happen again.” Familiar pain, however, didn’t reduce her appetite. She sank her teeth into juicy corn.
Luke did the same. “If you thought you both were in danger, why participate in the festival?”
Mari polished off her food and flushed it down with a wonderfully cold Coke. “Sometimes the best way to hide is in the crowd. Besides, it’s not easy to make Lydia do something. She looks soft and kind, I mean, when she doesn’t carry her rifle. But she can be very stubborn, too.” She leaned closer to him because she didn’t want other people to hear her. “Do you have more information?”
“Maybe there’s a place where we can talk? In private? And I promised you dinner.”
“My office. But I’ll need a quick shower first. As for dinner, did you like the food at The Café?”
“It was great. This is surprisingly delicious, too.” He nodded at his plate.
“Local produce. We try to use local as much as we can. Of course, seafood is from the ocean. But the town is close to the ocean. As well as to the border.”
“By ‘we,’ do you mean The Café?”
“Yes, and the town in general. Rios Azules likes everything homegrown. Including a serial killer.” She almost bit her tongue at her last words.
On a beautiful sunny day, in the company of a beautiful sunny stranger, why couldn’t she enjoy herself and forget about her late brother? Because somebody was out there killing innocent girls with a signature very similar to Tony’s.
“Mari…” Concern showed in Luke’s eyes.
“I’m fine,” she said.
She lean
ed back. She couldn’t let him be concerned for her. Because she couldn’t let herself be concerned for him. That would make her weak, and she couldn’t afford to be weak. She’d learned early in life that the moment she became weak she’d get knocked to the ground.
Her exhausted muscles protested every move, but she forced herself to rise to her feet. She couldn’t let other people suffer because she was drawn to Luke or because she didn’t want to open up the old wounds left by Tony.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“Why don’t we use my car? We could also talk there.”
Mari opened her mouth to argue and closed it. While she liked the surge of adrenaline she got from driving her motorcycle, she could hardly move her limbs.
They walked to the parking lot, and minutes later, she collapsed onto the passenger seat of his car.
“Would you like to drive?” he asked, as if sensing her need and habit of being in a driver’s seat.
“Sure.” She closed her drooping eyelids for a moment. When she opened them, Luke and she were already on the road. When had she dozed off? “Luke, how about we make a stop at the hospital? I want to check on Tara.”
Luke nodded, and a few minutes later, they were in room seven at the hospital. Tara looked peaceful in her sleep, so they tiptoed outside and were back on the road.
“I’ve seen the pictures you sent me today,” Mari said. “The little metallic bird… It’s not an eagle. It’s a falcon. Was June’s cell phone found anywhere near her body? Were there any photos stored there?”
Luke turned into the lane leading to her place. “Yes.”
She tensed. “River or sea?”
“Neither one. It looked like a picture of the ocean. The police are trying to identify the exact place.”
She relaxed her shoulders. “Then it’s closer to the sea.” Hopefully that meant that the next target would be her and not River.
He handed her his cell phone while making a turn. “James managed to retrieve some other pictures from her phone. How did you know about the photo and the falcon?”