Beautiful Storm (Lightning Strikes Book 1) (14 page)

Still…

"Alicia?" Ron queried, impatience in his voice.

"Sorry. Yes, I can cover the vigil."

"Great. It's at five o'clock at St. Peter's Church. Send me the photos as soon as you're done. We want to get the story online tonight."

"Will do."

"I appreciate the help. I owe you one."

"Speaking of that," she said quickly. "I need to take a few days off this coming week."

"Why?"

"It's a family issue," she said vaguely. "I have vacation time available."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Two or three days."

"Well, Jamie promised to be back to work tomorrow, so do what you need to do."

"Thanks. I'll let you know my plan as soon as I finalize it."

As she set down her phone, she had a feeling she'd just taken the first step to putting her crazy plan into motion.

Step two was next. She punched in Michael's number.

He answered on the first ring, his deep baritone voice stirring her senses in a way that had nothing to do with the mystery they were trying to solve. Her mind ran back to the night before when he'd covered her hand with his. The heat between them had been intense.

Michael was under her skin, no doubt about it. He was like no one she'd ever met before. She couldn't totally read him. Most of the time he was dark, moody, angry, and frustrated, but then she caught glimpses of another man, one who was lighter, who smiled more. She knew he was capable of deep emotions. She'd seen how he felt about Liliana. She'd also seen how his family's rejection had hurt him. He might be reserved on the surface, but he had all kinds of emotions simmering underneath.

"Alicia, are you there?" he asked impatiently.

"I just got a call from my assignment editor. He wants me to take photographs of the vigil tonight for the
Chronicle
."

"Then I guess you're going."

"Are you?"

"Yes. Do you want to go together?"

"I'll meet you there. Maybe we could talk afterwards."

"About your idea?" he asked. "Why don't you tell me now?"

"Okay, here goes. I was thinking that we should go to Texas and find out what Liliana was working on."

"I think we should do that, too. Ever since Brad told me Liliana might want to talk to me about her case, I haven't been able to think about anything else. Can you get time off work?"

"I can take a few days. What about you?"

"I'll make it work. We can leave tomorrow and come back Tuesday night or Wednesday. I'll look into getting us airline tickets."

"Okay, good." She paused. "Are we nuts?"

"Probably. But at the worst, it will just be a waste of time. At the best, we figure out where Liliana is."

"Right. I'll see you tonight."

As she ended the call, she hoped the worst would be nothing more than wasted time, but there was a part of her that wondered what would happen if they kept stirring the pot. Because someone had taken Liliana, someone who wanted to do her harm—maybe had already done her harm. If they got too close to finding out who that someone was, they might be in danger, too.

* * *

The candlelight vigil started with the lighting of hundreds of candles, a procession around the two blocks surrounding St. Peter's Church, followed by a Mass.

Alicia shot over two hundred frames, taking care to get as many of the participants on film as she could. She'd seen Michael arrive just as the Mass began. She'd actually been watching for him during the procession and had wondered if he'd changed his mind when he didn't show up, but he'd obviously wanted to make a less conspicuous entrance.

He slipped into the last pew in the church, giving her a nod as he did so. She'd set up her camera on a tripod at the other end of that row. She didn't really need to shoot the Mass. She'd already sent two dozen digital shots to Ron, and was quite sure he had whatever he needed for the story, but since she was here, she wanted to stay until the end, see who was in the crowd, hear what everyone had to say, and maybe see if she could find another clue, something that could only be seen by an outsider looking in.

As the Mass continued, her gaze drifted back to Michael. He wore a black coat, gray shirt, maroon-colored tie and dark slacks, looking more like the successful businessman that he was than the man she'd first met in the park dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. But she liked both versions of the man. In fact, she liked the man way too much. She'd actually missed him today. How ridiculous was that?

She turned her gaze back to the front of the church. The priest had started Communion and long lines of people made their way down the aisle. Liliana certainly had been well-loved by many.

Alicia couldn't imagine that she could draw a crowd this big. Her family, sure—maybe some coworkers—but who else would come? She'd lost track of most of her childhood friends, and the past few years she hadn't made many new friends outside of work.

It was her fault she'd become isolated. She'd put her storm photography ahead of everything else. She was beginning to realize that shooting life as it occurred wasn't the same as living life.

As Communion came to an end, she noticed a few people slipping out of the church as the priest said his final words. Standing in the shadows was Detective Kellerman, wearing a gray suit and open-necked white dress shirt. His gaze swept the crowd, lingering on the back of Michael's head, then it moved on to her. She blinked in surprise as he gave her a speculative look.

Why did she suddenly feel guilty? She wasn't doing anything wrong. In fact, she'd been assigned to come here.

Turning away, she snapped a few more photos as the Mass ended, then took down her tripod and put her equipment away.

The crowd filed outside, their candles to be relit once more in preparation for another processional journey around the church. She didn't need to shoot that trek since it would be no different than the one done earlier.

Detective Kellerman came over to her. "Miss Monroe. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I was assigned to cover the vigil for the
Chronicle
. They want to get the story online tonight."

"Do they know you're part of the case now?"

"I didn't mention it."

"Why not?"

"I'm hardly part of the case. I just found her tag."

"And yet you're extremely interested in the abduction of a woman you never knew."

"You sound suspicious of my motives."

He met her gaze head on. "I'm suspicious of everyone's motives. You've certainly gotten friendly with our primary suspect. A word of advice—don't be taken in by expensive clothes and a smooth smile."

She stared back at him, not sure what to say to that. It was clear that Kellerman disliked Michael. His personal feelings were definitely clouding his professional judgment.

"Michael told me that you arrested him when he was a teenager."

"I did. His rich grandfather got him off."

"You don't like him very much."

"That doesn't matter."

"It sure seems like it does."

"And it seems to me that it would be quite convenient for Michael if there was a new clue that pointed away from him."

"You think Michael set all this up? That he's using me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Or you could be working with him."

"You're wrong. That isn't what happened. And Michael is innocent."

"We'll see. People don't change," Kellerman replied, shooting Alicia a hard look. Then he turned his head toward Michael, who was walking toward them. "Once a punk, always a punk."

Michael didn't respond to the taunt, but she could see the anger in his eyes.

"I've got my eye on both of you," Kellerman added. Then he turned and left.

She blew out the breath she'd been holding. "I don't like him."

"Join the club."

"He thinks you put the tag in the dirt and I discovered it to throw the search in another direction."

"I don't care what he thinks. We know that didn't happen."

"True. I'm glad I didn't tell him we were going to Texas. He might have tried to stop us."

"Speaking of Texas, there's a nonstop at nine-twenty in the morning. Should we be on it?"

She nodded, even though her stomach was twisting now with the realization that she'd just agreed to go back to Texas. "Yes."

Michael must have read something in her hesitation, because he said, "You don't have to go, Alicia. I'd prefer if you did, because you have good ideas, but I know you have a job here."

"I can take time off. I have a lot of days saved up. I just wish Liliana hadn't been living in Corpus Christi. Going back to Texas, to my hometown, could be a little problematic."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why is that? Do you have outstanding parking tickets?"

"No, but I have a mother living there, and I don't see how I can go to Corpus Christi and not see her."

He shrugged. "So you'll see her. We'll make time for it. I'd actually like to meet your mother. Is she like you?"

"Not in any possible way. We're not close at all."

"It looks like Liliana's disappearance is bringing both of us back to our families." He gave her a dry smile. "Still happy with the lightning strike that started this whole thing?"

"I don't know if I'd say happy, but lightning lit up the trail. Now we follow it and see where it goes."

"Only a storm chaser would say that. Most people would run the other way."

She smiled. "Obviously, neither one of us is like most people. Do two crazy people make one sane person?"

He grinned back at her. "I think we're going to find out."

Eleven

They landed in Corpus Christi just after noon on Monday. They rented a car at the airport, then drove to a hotel near the naval station and checked into two adjoining rooms.

After stowing her overnight bag and taking a moment to freshen up, Alicia went into Michael's room and found him on the phone. She paused, wondering if he needed privacy, but he waved her inside. As he went over what appeared to be construction questions for his job, she walked over to the window.

The hotel overlooked Corpus Christi Bay, Padre Island, and the Gulf of Mexico. The water sparkled in the bright early afternoon sunlight. Like Miami, Corpus Christi enjoyed warm temperatures most of the year. Today it was already in the high seventies with a high of ninety expected. Also like Miami, Corpus Christi saw its fair share of hurricanes and was known as the
other windy city
. In fact, most people thought this part of South Texas had more wind than Chicago, but it was a different kind of wind, a wind that had always made her feel restless; a wind that often foreshadowed a bigger storm.

She felt like that now—on edge, eager but uncertain.

She'd had time to rethink her decision to come to Texas with Michael, and while she believed it was important to learn what Liliana had been doing in Texas, she also worried that they were headed straight into a hornet's nest.

Then there was the issue of her family. She loved her mother and her siblings, but she didn't want to tell them why she was in Texas. They would shake their heads in despair if she said that she'd followed a lightning strike straight into a criminal investigation. Maybe she'd find a few moments to stop by right before she got on the plane back to Miami. For the moment, she was going to concentrate on finding information on Liliana.

Michael finished his call and walked over to the window. "Sorry about that."

"No problem. What do you think we should do first?"

"I called the JAG offices. The receptionist passed me on to a woman who said she'd worked closely with Liliana and would be happy to talk to us."

"That's great. It almost sounds too easy."

"Which probably means we're not going to find anything, but at least we have a place to begin."

"Should we go now?"

"She said she had a lunch but would be back at two. I'm thinking we should grab a bite and then meet her. Do you know any good places around here?"

"Let's see. The last time I was in this particular part of Corpus Christi was my first year in college. I went to Texas A&M."

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know that."

"Don't be too impressed. I didn't finish school. I got a job working for a photographer my senior year, and I was so in love with what I was doing that I took the year off, thinking I'd go back sometime, but sometime hasn't come."

"Do you need a degree for photojournalism?"

"Not really. Now that I have a big portfolio, my work speaks for itself. But sometimes I think I should go back and finish, because you should finish what you start."

"That sounds like someone else's voice coming out of your mouth."

She made a face. "My mother. She always complained that I was like a butterfly, flitting from one leaf to another, never settling down, never finishing what I started. She's not totally wrong."

"Am I going to get to meet her while we're here?"

"We'll see. Let's concentrate on Liliana. We should come up with some good, leading questions for her coworker."

"We'll do it over lunch. Shall we go?"

She nodded. "I'll take you to what was my favorite burger place. Hopefully, it's as good as it used to be."

* * *

Half an hour later, they were enjoying burgers smothered with onions and guacamole at a restaurant called Burger Bob's. It was three blocks from the university and filled with college students.

"Excellent," Michael commented as he finished his burger and wiped his face with a napkin. "Good choice."

"Probably not as fancy as you're used to."

"You think I'm fancy?" he said with a grin.

She laughed. "Maybe not so much. At least, not when it comes to food. You have a few crumbs on your lip."

He wiped his mouth with his napkin. "I prefer a good burger over an overpriced steak. I like food that's not pretentious. I like my friends that way, too."

"So do I."

As the air warmed between them, she felt a spine-tingling dance of butterflies in her stomach. Michael was attractive, smart and, when he let down his guard, very likeable.