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“Lucas has some details, and I expect that means Antonio does too. But other than us, the only person who knows everything is Tamar. I was doing official Premier business, and I had to tell her. Besides, I wanted to run it by someone we both trusted before I brought it to you. What if I was wrong?” She draws a long, shaky breath. “I thought it should be your decision about whether to contact Afonso’s wife, and Tamar agreed.”
Lexie takes a piece of paper out of her pocket, and hands it to me. “This is the address.”
I unfold the paper and stare at the swirls and scrawls, before sliding it into my back pocket. The answers I’ve searched for my entire life were less than forty kilometers away the whole time.
My first inclination is to turn over the bar cart and watch the glass shatter against the stone. But it was a housewarming present from Valentina, and Lexie will be crushed if I destroy it.
“I need some air.”
She doesn’t comment on the fact that we’re in an open-air terrace. “I’ll come with you.”
“No.” I shake my head, and touching her arm, I press a kiss to her forehead. “I need some time, alone, to decide what to do.”
“Please don’t go by yourself to see her,” she pleads, reaching for my hand. “Take me with you. I’ll wait in the car.”
“I don’t even know if I’m going.” It’s a lie I tell both of us.
“I love you,” she says, not calling me on my bullshit. There’s no pity in her voice or in her face. Just strength and resolve. “I need you to come back to me.”
“Always,” I assure her, going back through the house, my thoughts and emotions tangled in my head.
Before I reach the garage, I’ve made my decision. Despite what I said earlier, it was always a foregone conclusion.
* * *
“Senhora Costa?” I say to the hunched woman who comes to the door with a cane. She appears to be well into her seventies—perhaps older.
“Yes.”
“My name is Rafael Huntsman. I believe you have information about my mother.”
She nods and steps aside. “Come in, senhor.”
It’s almost as though she’s been waiting for me.
I follow her through the spotless, modest house. When we get to a small parlor, she points to a chair for me to sit. “Would you like a coffee or perhaps some cheese and wine?”
It’s customary to accept food and drink from the host, but I’m not here for refreshments. I shake my head. “Tell me what you know about my mother’s disappearance.”
She sighs deeply and lowers herself to a chair perpendicular to where I’m seated. “My husband, Afonso, was Vincente Costa’s younger brother.”
I draw a breath to steady my nerves.
“Afonso was a good man—not like his brother.”
I’ll be the judge of whether he was a good man, not you.
“His one flaw is that he did everything Vincente asked. Everything. And Vincente was a bad man.”
She’s right. The son of a bitch did my uncle’s dirty work and later my father’s. But I don’t give a shit about the Costa family dynamics. “Senhora, I’ve waited a long time for news about my mother. Get to the point.”
“Vincente was ordered to kill your mother and dispose of the body. For his loyalty—and I’m sure his silence—your father agreed to pay off his house and to give him some additional money so he could take his wife on a trip. I don’t know if any other arrangements were made.”
A trip. I can barely breathe.
She fiddles with a small gold cross that hangs from a chain around her neck, while her lips move like she’s saying a silent prayer. It’s as though she needs divine assistance to finish the story. When she’s done, she peers up at me.
“Vincente was always greedy, and he decided to sell your mother instead of killing her.”
