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Gabriel needed to control his facial expressions better if he was going to be effective in his new role. “I assume I will be briefed on the people and issues involved.” He wanted the briefing to be thorough since he was starting with zero experience.
“Of course. Francisco will be in touch with you.” Francisco Vargas was the king’s highest political adviser. “Make them feel listened to and report back not just their words but your impressions.”
“I will do my best.” Gabriel gave a small bow from his chair to indicate the gravity with which he accepted the assignment. He lifted his head again. “I am selling my guitars, Tío.”
The king made a sharp gesture of denial. “I wish you would not.”
“It is time. I need to move forward.” The terse response was all he could muster.
A shadow of melancholy swept over the king’s face. “I will miss your music, Gabri. It so often brought me solace at the end of a hard day.”
Gabriel kept the muscles of his face still as his uncle’s words sliced through his chest like spinning knives, making it hard to breathe. He had always felt honored when Luis would ask him to bring his guitar to this office for a private concert. His uncle would lean back in the big leather chair, utterly still, while Gabriel played for him. Yet the king’s eyes had blazed with the emotions the flamenco evoked.
A fist closed around Gabriel’s throat. He might help the king with practical matters now, but he could never again use his music to ease his uncle’s heart.
Chapter 4
Quinn walked into her office and stowed her bag in the blond oak credenza before she woke up her bank of computer screens.
After he hired her, Mikel had given her a budget that made her eyes bug out and told her to choose her own furniture. She’d bought a basic wooden desk, an ergonomic chair, and all the computer equipment her heart desired. When Mikel had walked in for the first time, he’d shaken his head and told Emilia to make the decor better.
Now Quinn’s office had soft blue carpeting, the credenza, two upholstered chairs for visitors, and some watercolor paintings of Calevan flora. She never looked at anything except the computer screens, and no one except Mikel ever sat in the chairs, so she considered the decorating a waste of money.
She was deep into tracking leads on the surgeons who might have cut off the duke’s ear when a message came in from Mikel, saying that the first video footage on Kodra from the surveillance team was ready. He wanted her to come to the conference room so they could review it together on the big screen.
Mikel gestured her into the big leather chair beside his. “Anything new on the doctor angle?”
“I’ve narrowed it down to three.” Quinn was excited. Now she could focus on which slime bucket was callous and money-grubbing enough to mutilate a kidnapping victim.
“Three?” Mikel’s eyebrows rose. “How did you eliminate the others so fast?”
“Great detective work…and social media.”
Mikel’s lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. “I think I won’t tell el rey that last part,” he murmured before he resumed his usual impassive expression.
Mikel could pursue Kodra and his crew, but the doctor was the one who had destroyed Gabriel’s career as a musician. Mikel had never said that, but Quinn had put those puzzle pieces together.
She had even tracked down the few recordings of the duke’s performances that she could find. The beauty of his guitar playing had made her weep, and she wasn’t prone to tears. She would find the rat bastard who had taken so much away from the duke, and from the world that would have fallen in love with his music.
“I’m sorry you had to deliver the news to el duque,” Mikel said. “I should have been here. However, he said you did an excellent job.”
“Thank you, but you needed to be with Serena. The duke understood that as well as I did.” She felt a flicker of pleasure that the duke had complimented her to Mikel, even though she had dragged up the bad memories of the abduction again.
Mikel’s expression darkened, and he glanced at the cell phone resting on the conference table. “I’ve heard nothing from the hospital for two hours.”
“No news is good news,” Quinn said in a gentle tone. “They would have contacted you if her fever had flared up again.”
“In my job, no news is suspect.” He nudged the phone two inches farther away from him. “In addition to tracking down the surgeon, I want you to view the video and audio that comes in from the surveillance of Kodra. Give me a daily report of anything you think is significant.”
“Yes, sir.” It was a flattering sign of Mikel’s trust in her abilities.
He hit a button on his laptop, and the big screen came to life. “I’ll fill you in on what I know so far. After that, it’s all yours.”
The screen displayed an angular modern villa made of stone with a paved courtyard bounded by a high wall and a heavy metal gate. Several cars were parked in it.
Quinn scanned the scene, noting the cars ranged from a gleaming silver Mercedes sports coupe to a rusty red Fiat 500. “I’m guessing the Mercedes belongs to Kodra?” She turned toward her boss.
Mikel nodded without taking his eyes off the screen. She watched him for a few seconds, fascinated by the focus etched on his face.
