“Both,” she said, taking another step back.
“Don’t run from me. I just want to talk to you.”
Uh-huh. Right.
Another step, though now she became uncertain about turning her back on him, because he looked athletic and fast as lightning, and she doubted her ability to outdistance him.
But if she screamed, would the security guards hear her from here?
“Stop,” he demanded, yet he didn’t reach for her, which she took as a good sign. “Just hold on a second, would ya?”
Nope. If he was going to rape, maim or murder her, he’d have to catch her first, and she didn’t plan on being caught.
“I just want to know who you are,” he said.
She hadn’t lived in Rio all her life, but had been sent to private boarding schools in the United States, England and Switzerland. This man was indeed American, and southern American at that, given his slight drawl.
“Don’t run.” His voice was cool and quiet, but there was definite danger there. “And don’t scream,” he added. “I hate it when people scream. I just want to ask you some questions.”
One more step, she thought, slowly lifting her foot, just...one...more.
“This picture.” He thrust it beneath her nose. “What do you know about this picture?”
Foot in the air, poised for flight, Nina went utterly still. Her breath clogged in her throat. Her heart stopped.
It was her sister.
Meu Deus, he held a picture of Terry in the embrace of some man, and she looked so beautiful, so stunningly alive and happy, Nina’s eyes filled. “Terry,” she whispered.
The man stared at her. “My God, it’s not you.” His gaze was measuring. “It’s close....” Once again he studied the picture, then carefully searched her face. “Really close.” Before she could guess his intention, he reached up and unclipped her hair, tugging it free, ignoring her startled gasp. “But no cigar.” His eyes, those all-seeing eyes, chilled. “What do you know about this woman? What did you call her...Terry? Where can I find her?”
Nina nearly let out a laugh, but it would have been half hysterical, so she put her hand to her mouth and shook her head.
“I need to talk to her.”
For once, the streets were relatively free of the wandering tourists and loud boisterous locals. There was no one to rescue her from this bad dream. “You...cannot,” she said.
“Why?”
“She died a year ago last September.”
His frown deepened, his jaw tight as a drum. “Try again, lady.”
Nina shook off the fear and found her temper. “I do not know who you are, but I want you to leave these premises immediately. There is a guard right inside, and—”
“Don’t call him. I just want some answers. I need to talk to her.”
“No.” Terry was dead.
And she needed to remain so.
Everything depended on her remaining so.
“How long since you’ve seen her?” he pressed.
More than a year now. A lifetime. Nina closed her eyes and remembered the terror in her sister’s face when she realized that she was being watched. Stalked. Then the police had come, arresting her for embezzlement and smuggling gems in cahoots with a known smuggling operation.
It had been a lie, a terrible, vicious lie. Terry had been set up and framed, but the evidence against her had been insurmountable. Planted, of course, though neither Terry nor Nina knew who would have done such a thing.
Nina still didn’t know.
In light of that, while out on bail on charges that would put her in prison for life, Terry had vanished. Then she’d faked her own death, and Nina had grieved as if it had been the real thing, because she knew she’d never get to see Terry again.
“The waitress told me you were Senhorita Nina Monteverde,” the American said. “If that’s true, who’s Terry?”
If this man was looking for her sister, something had gone terribly, terribly wrong, and Nina backed up another step.
“Maybe Terry is...your sister?”
Nina’s eyes widened, she couldn’t help it. He was good.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding, still staring at her. “Your sister. I need to talk to her, Nina.”
Another step.
Then another.
And yet another, all the while her brain frantically racing. Terry, God, Terry please be all right.
Then finally she had enough space between her and the American. “Security!” she shouted. “Help! Security!”
Behind her the doors opened, and she whirled toward them, never so grateful for the wealth and status her family name afforded as two uniformed men rushed toward her. “Escort this man off the premises!” she cried, turning back to point out the American, as if he needed pointing out.
But the security men skidded to a halt, bafflement crossing their faces. Nina didn’t understand, until she realized she pointed at nothing and no one.
Her stranger had vanished.
RICK WASN’T a patient man. One would think that worked against him in his line of work, but he’d found frustration and intimidation good motivators.
Only he’d blown it just now, letting Nina Monteverde stun him stupid with just one blink of those huge, wide, drown-in-me chocolate brown eyes.
What was that about?
He’d interviewed plenty of women in his day, and while it was true few could resist his own dubious charms, it had happened on occasion. But he’d still always gotten what he wanted.
Not tonight.
Tonight he’d been the one blindsided, and for his trouble all he’d gotten was a lie.
No way could the woman in the picture have been dead a year and a half. She’d given birth only seven months ago, then dumped the baby girl on what she thought was Mitch Barnes’s doorstep.
Rick sat on his motorcycle contemplating his next move. He pulled out his cell phone, and without calculating the difference in the time zone, dialed Mitch’s home.
“Barnes here.”
“Does the name Monteverde mean anything to you?” Rick asked.
“No, why?”
“The woman in the picture, the one you’re looking for, her name is Terry Monteverde.”
“Terry.” Mitch’s voice, so professional and alert in his greeting, went rough with memories. “Terry Monteverde.”
“Nina, her sister, claims she died last fall.”
“That’s a lie. I had a paternity test. Hope is mine. The only woman I was with at the right time was the woman in the picture.”
“Yeah, Nina was lying. But I think she was protecting Terry, for whatever reason.” Rick couldn’t be sure why he thought so, he didn’t know Nina Monteverde from Eve, but his instincts had never failed him. At least not in four years. “I’m going to follow her home and see what else I can get.”
Across