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She pauses. “I have nothing definitive yet. But so far everything points to Marco Cruz.”
“Son of a bitch.” I’m going to disembowel that asshole. How could Valentina be so head over heels in love with that guy? Valentina. My first priority has to be to protect Valentina—her life, and also her heart. “Tamar, we can’t afford to be wrong about this.”
“Like I said, we have nothing definitive. Certainly not enough to accuse Valentina’s husband.”
Valentina’s husband. This is where it gets messy.
“Get Lucas involved. Don’t tell him we suspect Marco. See if he draws the same conclusion on his own. I want a definitive answer by the time the sun sets. And if it’s Marco, I’ll need to see the evidence.”
I’d be happy to string him up any damn day of the week without the evidence, but I can’t do that to Valentina. She’ll be crushed—and angry, mostly at me. I have broad shoulders, but I don’t want our relationship destroyed because I acted impulsively. It’s too important to me.
Could there be a worse time to be on a goddamn plane?
That bastard. Fucking thief. And maybe much worse. I gulp down what’s left of my drink and call Zé. “Do you know where Valentina is?”
“I saw her in the building earlier. Let me text her guards.”
There’s no way anyone could get to her in the building. It would be almost impossible. Even Marco wouldn’t be stupid enough to pull something inside Huntsman Lodge. I feel the tension in my shoulders unfurl a bit.
“Has Tamar talked to you about the missing money?”
“No. We stay in our own lanes.”
I never warned either of them not to mix business and pleasure, but it doesn’t surprise me that they came to it on their own.
“Ask her about it. Tell her I said to tell you everything.”
“Valentina’s in a meeting in her office.”
“Good. Before you talk to Tamar, put someone we trust on Valentina. She’s not to leave the building, Zé, until I get back. Not for any reason. And those guards that answer to her husband? Consider them suspect.”
“What’s going on?”
“Talk to Tamar. I need to get off and call Antonio. Talk to Tamar,” I repeat, more for my benefit than Zé’s.
I motion for the flight attendant. “Get me a bourbon, straight up. Don’t be stingy with the booze.”
She smiles sympathetically, like she knows that a midday bourbon means the day sucks balls.
I stare at Antonio’s number before I place the call. Normally I wouldn’t burden him until we had more facts, but this is his daughter, and he needs to know.
“Rafael.” Antonio whistles. “Heard you were in London. I would not have advised that.” He’s clearly amused, but I’m about to change his mood.
“That was yesterday’s problem. We have something new to worry about.”
He pauses, and I feel the energy shift. “I’m listening.”
I tell him everything I know, and he reacts predictably. I’m not entirely sure Marco will still be alive when I deplane in Porto.
“We can’t sit on our hands,” I grumble. “The deposit was enormous, and whoever authorized it will know that we’ll find out about it in short order. Marco is named the beneficiary. If I were him, I’d want Valentina dead as soon as possible, empty that account, and disappear.”
“He’s mine,” Antonio growls.
“We need to proceed cautiously.” It’s a very bad day when I’m the voice of reason in a situation that involves Valentina’s safety—or Lexie’s. “The stakes are high, but he’s her husband.” I don’t say he’s family, because I’ve never thought of him that way.
“You’re sure she’s in the building?”
“I’m sure, and I’m also sure she isn’t going anywhere.”
