Beautiful Storm (Lightning Strikes Book 1) (4 page)

"Hold on. You don't have anything to fear from me."

"If I did, I doubt you would tell me."

"Good point, but it's the truth. I heard about the tag from a police officer. As soon as the causeway opened, I came here to see if there was anything else to be found." He paused, his gaze meeting hers. "Is that why you're here before dawn? To look for a clue you might have missed? You're the one who found the tag, aren't you?"

There didn't seem to be much point to lying. "Yes. I couldn't sleep, thinking about what I'd seen, so I came back."

"What exactly did you see?" he asked, a sharper tone in his voice now. "I thought you just found the tag."

"And I thought you said the police filled you in."

"They told me the witness had a head injury and couldn't remember details." His gaze raked her face. "What happened to you?"

"Lightning struck the tree next to me and the branches came down on my head, but that was after I saw a couple struggling over what appeared to be a knife."

He stiffened at her words. "I didn't realize there was a weapon."

"I wasn't close enough to know for sure."

"Where were they standing?"

"Right here."

"And you? Where were you when you saw them?"

She pointed to the path through the trees fifty yards away. "I was up there. I was coming back from the beach."

"Will you show me?"

It was such a simple request. Yet, the idea of going into the dark trees with this man seemed like a bad idea. She preferred this clearing, where the early morning light was beginning to get stronger. "There's nothing to see. Maybe we should wait for the police. I'm sure they'll be here soon."

"If that's what you want, but I have to tell you that if I were going to hurt you, I could have done it already. You don't appear to have a weapon, and I don't think anyone knows you're out here."

She stared back at him, seeing determination in his eyes but not danger. Still, she needed to know more about him before she took another step. "You said you're old friends with the missing woman?"

"Yes. We grew up together. Liliana lived across the street. I don't remember a time when I didn't know her. Her brother Juan and I were the same age; Liliana was two years younger, but she was always around. Over time, I found I had more in common with her than with Juan. She was an amazing girl."

There was a heavy note in his voice now, as if he didn't think his friend could still be alive.

"Was?" she asked gently.

"Is," he immediately corrected. "The last two months have been difficult. I—we've been trying to keep hope alive, but as the days pass…" His voice trailed away. "It's rough."

Even in the shadows, she could see the pain in his expression. He seemed genuine and honest. She wanted to believe he was a friend and not an enemy. "Tell me something about her that only you would know, that wouldn't have been in the papers or the police reports," she said.

"Like what?"

"Something personal."

He thought about her request. "I don't know. There are probably lots of things about her that weren't in the papers."

"So give me one."

"Well, she almost got married when she was seventeen—she was so desperate to get out of the neighborhood. I don't think her parents even knew that she was that serious about the older guy she was dating. Luckily, she called me first, and I talked her out of it. Instead of running away, she joined the Navy, and she made a good life for herself as a military lawyer."

"Who did she almost marry?"

"Brad Harte. Did I pass the test?"

"You do seem to know her, although I have no way of knowing if you're lying to me."

"You're trying to figure out whether you can trust me—I get it. Maybe I'll just go down the path on my own. You were standing where a tree came down, right? That shouldn't be difficult to find."

"I'll show you," she said impulsively. They'd been alone for the past ten minutes. If he'd wanted to hurt her, he would have already made a move. She took him down the path, not stopping until she reached the tree that was sprawled across the trail. "I'd been at the beach, but I thought the gold rods on the carousel might attract the lightning, so I came here, and I was right. It was an incredible show of light. Flash after flash—I was shooting pictures like crazy. In one of the bright moments, I saw the fight between a man and a woman. I heard the woman scream and then the tree next to me was hit by lightning and the falling branches knocked me down. There was fire all around me. It took me a few minutes to get free. By the time I got down to the carousel, the people were gone."

"How long was it between the time you saw them fighting and when you reached the carousel?"

"Five minutes or so."

"Or so? You don't know, do you?"

"I was a little dazed, but it wasn't very long."

"What about the pictures you were taking? Do they show what you saw?"

"No. The lightning washed everything else out. All I could see were shadows."

He nodded, his gaze grim. "What happened next?"

"I went to where they were standing, and I found the tag in the dirt. After I got home, I looked up Liliana's name on the computer. When I realized she was a missing person, I developed the film to see if I had captured the scene, then I went straight to the police. I told the detective on the case everything I just told you. They assured me someone would start looking for her right away. I must admit it's a little disappointing not to see anyone here now."

"The police here on the island searched the park last night, but there will be another search this morning."

"Good. I hope the tag will help to find her."

"It certainly gives the detectives a new lead to follow, and God knows they've needed one. It's been the longest two months of my life. You have no idea what it's like to live through something like this. The uncertainty kills you."

"I have an idea." Reading about the search for Liliana had triggered painful memories of the night her father's plane had gone down and the days of questions and worry that had followed.

"You lost someone?"

"I did—a long time ago. He's partly the reason I came back here this morning. I know what it's like to wait for answers, and I haven't been able to get Liliana out of my mind. I read everything I could find about the case last night. I watched a video of her parents pleading for her safe return. I saw her sister crying and her friends with sad hope in their eyes. If I can help bring her home, I have to try. I have to find a way to get her scream out of my head."

His face paled at her words. "Tell me about the man you saw. What did he look like?"

"He was tall. His clothes were dark. He wore a jacket or a sweatshirt with a hood."

His hand moved to the strings of his hooded sweatshirt. "The sweatshirt. That's why you jumped when you saw me."

"I thought for a moment…"

"It wasn't me. I wasn't here last night. I would never ever hurt Liliana. She was a good friend to me at a time when I really needed one. I don't know what happened to her, but I intend to find out." He stopped talking, his gaze turning down the path.

She was happy to see police gathering by the carousel, some of them with dogs. "It looks like the search party has arrived." She felt relieved that she was no longer alone with this man. A part of her wanted to trust him. Another part of her was afraid. She'd never had such an intense reaction to a stranger. She blamed it on the circumstances, the spooky early morning light, the events of the night before, the bump on her head; anything that would explain why her stomach was churning and her palms were sweaty.

"We should talk to them," she said.

"Before you go—you may hear things about me, but they're not true."

"What do you mean? What would I hear?" It suddenly occurred to her that she'd never asked him his name. "Who are you?"

"Michael Cordero."

A shiver ran down her spine. "You were the last person Liliana texted and—"

"A person of interest." He gave her a direct look. "Which means I want to find Liliana more than anyone else. Not just to make sure she's all right, but—"

"To also clear your name."

"Yes."

Now she knew why he'd come to the park before daybreak, why he seemed so intent on persuading her that he was innocent. What she didn't know was how she felt about his story. There was a chance Michael Cordero was innocent, but there was also a chance he was a really good liar.

* * *

She didn't believe him
, Michael thought as he stood in the shadows of the trees watching Alicia Monroe talk to the police. He'd learned her name when Detective Kellerman had quizzed her on her presence in the park. That was, of course, after the detective had asked him the very same question, but with a lot more hostility.

During his exchange with Kellerman, Alicia had watched him with a sharp, speculative gaze. He'd thought he'd won her trust earlier, but it was clear that the detective's suspicions were now coloring her thinking.

He probably shouldn't have come to the park and put himself in yet another vulnerable position, but he hadn't been able to stay away, and in truth, he didn't give a shit what Detective Kellerman thought of him.

Changing the detective's mind wasn't important. Finding Liliana was all that mattered. Then the truth would come out—whatever that was.

He wanted to believe that Liliana was alive after what Alicia had told him she'd seen the night before. But the ferocity of the storm, the huge tree that had knocked Alicia to the ground, and even the doubt in Alicia's own voice gave him pause. While she'd obviously found the tag, and she seemed quite certain about the rest of her story, there was a gap in time when Alicia had been on the ground and the couple had disappeared.

The fact that Liliana hadn't already been found was also disturbing. Had they come so close only to be thwarted again?

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he blew out a breath of frustration.

He hated being out of control, not knowing what would happen next, feeling helpless to make a change. Those feelings reminded him of his childhood when life had been chaotic, unpredictable, and lonely. When he'd left Miami at fifteen, he'd left those emotions behind him. He'd become the kind of person who set goals and achieved them, who knew what he wanted and went after it.

He was good at fixing things. He was a builder. He put things together. He executed a vision every day of the week, but he couldn't fix the problem with Liliana. He couldn't find her. He couldn't bring her home, and it was driving him mad.

Hopefully, today's search would yield something new, but the fact that there was no sign of Liliana didn't bode well for that outcome. Still, they had something new to go on—because of Alicia.

His gaze moved back to the woman who had recharged the investigation.

Now that the sun had come up, he could see her more clearly. She was young, mid-twenties, he thought, slender and fit in her jeans and jacket. She was pretty, too, in a natural, not-really-trying kind of way. Her dark hair was pulled back in a thick ponytail that hung halfway down her back, and her brown eyes were wide and framed with long black lashes. While the bump on her forehead and the shadows under her eyes made her look tired and beat-up, there was a fighting spirit, a curiosity, a determination that came through in her gaze and in her actions.

How many random witnesses came back to the scene of a crime to look for more clues? And she hadn't even waited for daylight. She'd come to the park before dawn.

But he also had to ask himself why she was so interested in an unsolved mystery. She didn't know Liliana, and she'd already turned in the military ID, which would make her eligible for the reward, so the money couldn't be driving her.

Maybe it was guilt. She'd seen a woman being attacked, and she hadn't been able to help her. Now she wanted to find that woman and make it right. It made sense, but he still came back to his original question: how many witnesses would return to the scene of the crime to help out a stranger?

Probably very few.

Alicia shifted her gaze from the police detective to him, and even from a distance he could read the wary suspicion in her eyes. No doubt Kellerman had warned her away from him. He wondered if Alicia would listen.

He got his answer a moment later when Alicia said something to the police detective and then started walking toward him.

She had her back to Kellerman, so she didn't see the police detective watching her, but Michael was acutely aware of Kellerman's gaze following her steps, those steps leading straight to him. He had a feeling Alicia's action was only going to add another complication to his life, but right now he was more interested in finding out if Kellerman had shared any information with her.

"What did the detective have to say?" he asked as she stopped in front of him.

"He had more questions than answers. He wanted to know if I'd met you before this morning. I said no, but I'm not sure he believed me, which was strange. Why would I lie?"

"He's suspicious of everyone, especially if they're seen with me."

"He told me not to trust you."

"I'm not surprised," he said evenly, but her words still burned through his soul. He'd straightened out his life a long time ago, and he wasn't used to people doubting his actions or his intentions.

"I know you and Liliana exchanged texts on the day she disappeared, that she was supposed to meet you, but that doesn't explain why the detective is so suspicious of you."

"He has no other leads. And he's never been a fan of mine."

Her eyebrow lifted in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"A long time ago, when I was a teenager, I had a few run-ins with the police, with Kellerman in particular."

"Like what?"

"Vandalism, theft," he said with a shrug. "I was fifteen and running with a bad crowd. Kellerman was a beat cop back then. He still thinks of me as that punk kid, but I'm not that person anymore. Hopefully, this new clue will take the investigation toward whoever is responsible for Liliana's disappearance. That isn't me."