Seeing them to the door, she watched as they climbed into a low, sleek Cadillac. A second vehicle, a gleaming black Chevrolet truck with tinted windows, glided behind the Cadillac as it nosed through the security gates, and she tensed. She had been aware they had a driver, because she had suggested he eat in the kitchen if he was hungry, but not that there had been a second vehicle. The only possible reason for a second vehicle was security, which meant Lopez had had additional men loose on the property that she hadn’t known about.
Suddenly the interlude in the garden began to make sense. There had been someone there, maybe more than one. Cesar must have been aware of their presence, because otherwise Jorge and Tomas would never have admitted the second vehicle.
As the gate closed behind the truck, Esther turned on Cesar. She didn’t care if they did go bankrupt. “Finish with them.”
It wasn’t often she demanded, but in this case it was too strong a reaction to deny. She was itching to go to the police, but she was going to have to wait until Cesar got clear. Perez was a wanted man, but as much as she needed to see him behind bars, she wouldn’t allow Cesar to be dragged into the investigation or the media storm that would follow when Perez was picked up.
“I can’t—not yet.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve already made arrangements for Lopez to look at the project. He’s a new player in the market and he’s got cash. We can’t afford to throw away the opportunity.” He indicated for her to precede him into the house, the gesture normal and courteous, but the fact that he was avoiding her gaze made Esther’s stomach plunge.
She stepped into the foyer, her heels rapping on the marble floor. “What have you signed?”
His gaze was rapier sharp, a glimpse of the old, imperious Cesar. “Relax. Like I told you, I’m just researching options. Lopez has got some heavy-duty connections.”
“I don’t like Lopez, and Perez is a wanted criminal.”
He locked the front door and set the alarm. “Ease off, honey. Like I said, Perez can go, just not yet.”
She watched as Cesar crossed the foyer, heading for the stairs, his gait very slightly unsteady. “Promise me you’ll get out of whatever it is you’ve gotten involved with.”
She was like a terrier with a bone, but she couldn’t let it go. It was panic, pure and simple. Her stomach was tight and her eyes were burning. She was on the verge of crying and that was something she hadn’t done in years. Something was happening that she couldn’t control and she needed to find out exactly what had gone wrong.
Business—money—had always been an exciting game, one that she and Cesar were very good at. They took risks and lived like kings. That was part of the excitement and the reward of what they did, but in no way did they break the law. She didn’t tolerate underhanded business ethics, and she wouldn’t tolerate involvement with criminals. With everything they did, there was a moral line between greed and good business practice, and Esther believed in staying on the right side of that line. She’d seen too much ugliness and too much dirty dealing to ever want to join those ranks. Naive or not, she believed that if she behaved with integrity she would always prosper. They would always prosper.
Until tonight, she was certain Cesar had shared that view. With a sudden chill, she wondered if that was what had gone wrong. Cesar had gotten tied up with criminals and their luck had dissolved.
She shook off the thought, which was patently ridiculous. Cesar had said he wasn’t committed. There would be logical answers as to why so many of their ventures had failed, one after the other. Lately, she’d been working overtime to find the key to the failures and a definite pattern was emerging, but she needed more time to find her way through the paper companies and isolate exactly who it was sabotaging the deals.
“Promise me, Cesar. These people are dangerous.” Images from the newspaper article flickered through her mind. “Perez was tied in with Marco Chavez.”
Just speaking the name aloud made her feel sick. For a moment she thought Cesar was on the verge of telling her something, then the soft burr of the phone broke the moment.
Esther watched as he changed direction and strode into the office to take the call. She listened long enough to ascertain that this was “normal” business, not Lopez, before she strolled through the house and back out into the garden.
The kitchen was darkened, and the patio and the pool area were quiet now. Only the hum of the pool filter disturbed the peace. The leaf was still floating near the center of the pool. Directing her gaze upward, she checked the nearest trees, most of which were palms or subtropicals with large, fleshy leaves, nothing like the small, square leaf in the pool.
Strolling around to the far side of the pool, where a small shed was concealed behind a screen of plantings, she located one of the pool scoops. Seconds later, she examined the “leaf,” which wasn’t a leaf at all, but the torn-off cover of a small book of matches emblazoned with the name of a bar on Grant Avenue.
A chill roughened the surface of her skin. She had watched as it had landed in the water. Someone had been there, and they had enjoyed playing a cat-and-mouse game with her.
Three
An hour later, Esther eased out of bed. Cesar was sound asleep, his breathing heavier than usual, courtesy of the amount of alcohol he’d sunk during the evening. Normally, she hated it when Cesar drank, but tonight his comatose state provided her with the opportunity she needed.
Slipping on a silk wrap, she padded through the house and downstairs to the office.
The fact that Cesar had failed to advise her that Lopez had personnel loose on their property kept playing through her mind. Normally any extras were invited into the kitchen or the staff lounge, where they could have a meal and watch television if they wanted, and where Jorge and Tomas could keep an eye on them. Security was important. There were priceless works of art in the house, not to mention her jewelry, and they had Rina’s safety to consider. The risk of kidnapping wasn’t high, but it was always there.
She began to search Cesar’s office, carefully leafing through files and replacing them. An unfruitful hour later she sat down at the computer and booted it up, but was stymied when she was denied access. Cesar had changed his password and hadn’t advised her. It was possible he had just done it that day and had forgotten to tell her, but Esther didn’t think so. Cesar hated computers with passion. Normally, he got her to change his password and load any new programs. She had her own separate office and her own computer, but she had always had unlimited access to Cesar’s.
Feverishly, she searched the desk drawers, examining notepads and loose papers, just in case he had written the password down. On impulse, she searched the trash. Halfway down the basket she hit gold, a crumpled piece of notepaper with the word chameleon written across it in bold print. Holding her breath, she typed in the word. A split second later she had access to Cesar’s directory.
The alarm bells that had been ringing ever since Cesar had invited Lopez to dinner sounded even louder as she opened a file labeled “Lopez” and began to read.
Together, with her sharp logistical mind and photographic memory and Cesar’s genius for business, she and Cesar had made a great team. But not anymore. He wasn’t researching a possible business venture with Lopez; he was already involved.
Shutting the computer down, she sat back in the chair and stared at the blank monitor. She needed to sleep, but now she doubted that she would. Cesar had lied about his involvement with Lopez and hidden the facts from her. He had already signed a deal to salvage the Pembroke project.
Financially they were safe, which meant Cesar had also lied about that this evening, and the lie was unforgivable. He knew how worried she was about their financial