From Barcelona, with Love (19 page)

“A crime of passion,” Mac said. It seemed almost too simple.

“The others are late,” Lorenza said, looking worried as Floradelisa sent out yet another tiny appetizer. “But then Jassy always is.”

Mac stared, puzzled, down at his plate at what looked like a small speckled brown egg in a curlicue of white sauce. He glanced up and met Lorenza's eyes.

She smiled conspiratorially. “Spoon or fork? What do you think?”

“Oh, fingers,” he decided.

He picked up the brown egg-thing and bit into it. Immediately his taste buds were hit by a pervading sweetness, than an edgy bitter undertone, then citrus …

“Wonderful,” he said, astonished.

Lorenza smiled, wiping her fingers delicately on her starched white napkin. “One of these days, I'm hoping Floradelisa will leave all this surreal experimentation behind—food as art—and cook real food again. Spanish food. At least then I can be sure my sauce doesn't have a deconstructed pig's tail in it.”

“Why don't we try a bottle of your de Ravel wine,” Mac suggested. He was suddenly having a good time and in no hurry to meet the siblings.

“Flora refuses to serve it, but I'll order a Txakoli, a local wine. You'll like it, it has a bit of a sparkle.”

“Like you,” he said and she laughed.

“Not quite as good as those rum punches,” she reminded him, as their eyes linked with memories again across the table.

 

Chapter 28

Antonio had arranged to
pick up Jassy at her surprisingly small but luxuriously modernized apartment in an Art Deco building on a chic street in the Eixample district, and drive her to Floradelisa's. He hated her tiny cage elevator, it gave him claustrophobia, so instead of going up he called on his cell and told her he was downstairs. Jassy said she was running late and would be down in a few minutes, then kept him waiting for exactly twenty. Antonio timed it on his watch, pacing the street, glaring at the parking officer patrolling the area. He got on the phone and called her angrily, again.

“I'm right here,” Jassy said, suddenly, from behind him.

Startled, he swung round. “Jesus Christ, Jassy, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Only
almost
?” she said, mockingly. “Too bad.”

“Jesus! I don't know why I bothered coming. I should have let you go on your own to meet this detective. I sure as hell don't want to meet him. I didn't want to hire him in the first place.”

He held the car door open, waiting impatiently while Jassy dropped into the low-slung seat of his dark blue Maserati.

“You must have short-legged girlfriends,” she complained, pushing back the tan leather seat. “And anyhow, is this
another
new car?”

Antonio ignored her. He gave the parking officer another frosty glare before taking off, too fast, only to jerk to a stop at the red light.

Exasperated, Jassy looked angrily at her brother. The seat belt had almost choked her. She smoothed her narrow cream-colored skirt over her thighs. “You'll end up killing somebody if you continue to drive like this,” she said. “And yes, I did ask if this is
another
new car. No wonder stepmother Lorenza is pissed off at you, squandering the sherry profits on fast cars and fast women.”

“What do you know about my women?” Anthony turned his head and smiled at her, a true Cheshire cat smile.

“Don't smile at me like that,” she snapped. “We are here on business and don't you forget it. Paloma's future is at stake and I'm warning you now, Antonio, if you know anything about Bibi and are not telling, this detective will find out.”

“There's nothing to find out.” Antonio's voice was cold. He was negotiating Barcelona's traffic like a race driver, after all he'd grown up here and knew it as well as he knew the route from Jerez to Marbella, only here, unfortunately, there wasn't the same alluring woman waiting for him. Only his stepmother and some small-time Hollywood detective. He knew how to take care of guys like that. But he needed Lorenza's shares in the company, so was forced to toe the line. Lorenza hadn't said what the extra reward was, but Antonio knew it must mean money, and by God he needed money right now. He'd need even more when he divorced Elena and had to pay for her for the rest of her life, plus three children to put through school and God knows what else.

“The fact that the sherry business is taking a dive is not my fault,” he said to Jassy.

“The fact that the
de Ravel
sherry business is taking a dive
is
your fault, and no one else's,” she said.

Antonio heaved a sigh. “I don't know why I bothered to pick you up. You're nothing but a troublemaker.”

“Antonio, you make your own trouble. Have you no thought for your wife? No
respect
?”

“Mind your own business.”

“The de Ravel sherry
is
our family business, and Lorenza is prepared to give us half of it to share and you're squandering
my
portion on your indulgences; cars, apartments in Marbella, boats, women…”

Antonio turned into the Calle Mallorca where Floradelisa's was located, pulling up with a squeal of expensive brakes in front of the valet parking stand. He turned to glare at Jassy as the valets rushed to open their doors. “Don't you dare breathe a word of this tonight,” he snapped.

She glared back at him. “You're forgetting we're here for Paloma tonight, not for you, Antonio. And not so you can get another chunk of de Ravel money that, thanks to Lorenza, we still possess.”

Antonio got out. He buttoned his jacket, straightened his tie—a more sober blue tonight with a small pattern of sailboats—his woman had bought it for him in Marbella just last week. He patted it fondly.

Jassy swung her legs from the low-slung car, smiling her thanks as the red-jacketed valet gave her his hand and helped her up.

“It's a great car, though,” she said, taking Antonio's arm and smiling as they walked into the restaurant. After all, it was better, whatever was going to happen, to present a united family front.

 

Chapter 29

“Here they are at last.”
Lorenza spotted them coming in. She thought how good-looking Juan Pedro's two children were. Walking toward her, they looked like the perfect couple, no one would ever take them for brother and sister: Jassy so Nordic blond like her mother, Antonio the dark Spaniard like Juan Pedro.

Mac was watching them too. Jassy was a lovely woman, elegant in short black off-the-shoulder lace and enormous graduated diamond drop earrings that glimmered as she moved. Her blue eyes were made bluer, Mac suspected, by contacts. Her brother drew attention too, tall, broad-shouldered, dark and beaky, in a custom-tailored suit and expensive tie. They were smiling but the tension between them was palpable. Mac got to his feet as Jassy offered him her hand.

“How lovely to meet you.” She peered at his black eye. “My oh my, somebody didn't like you.”

“Or maybe he just ran into an unfriendly door.” Antonio shook Mac's hand too. He did not say it was good to meet him. The antipathy was mutual.

Jassy turned to smile at the handsome young waiter who'd brought them a glass of the Negra Modelo and the delicate crab tapa. “How are you, Johannes?” she asked, nodding, pleased when he said he was well. Jassy was good with waiters, she always inquired about their health and their families.

Antonio tilted his head back and threw the beer down his throat. “God,” he said, disgusted. “Whatever this is, it's too sweet for me. Give me a vodka on the rocks any time.” As if by magic a waiter appeared at his side with exactly that. Floradelisa knew her brother's habits.

“It's good of you to come all this way at such short notice, Mr. Reilly,” Jassy said.

“Paloma needs help,” Mac said. “That's the reason I came.”

Antonio said, “I'm relieved to hear it's not just for the money.”

“In fact money has not yet been discussed.”

Mac watched Antonio take a gulp of the martini. There was a nervousness to his movements, the too-tight grip on the stem of the glass, the sideways flicker of his eyes at Lorenza, turning his head to see who else was dining there that he might know.

“Then it's time we did talk money,” Lorenza said, firmly. “And since this is a family matter and concerns Paloma and Bibi, I'm telling you now that Mac's fee will be paid by the four of us from our personal funds.”

“Well, there goes my chartered yacht this season,” Jassy said cheerfully.

“And my divorce,” Antonio said.

The two women turned to him, horror-struck.

“
What
did you say?” Lorenza asked.

“You can't divorce her, Antonio, you simply can't do that to Elena and the children.” Jassy shook her head and her blond hair glinted with a reddish shine in the light from the chandeliers, and her eyes glimmered with held-back tears. “Oh shit,” she gasped. “I can't cry in a restaurant, even if it is my sister's. And anyway, I changed my mind. Yes, you
can
divorce,” she said in a fierce whisper. “Only Elena should be the one to divorce
you.
She's better off without you.”

“I'm sorry to inflict our family problems on you,” Lorenza said to Mac. “I didn't expect this.”

“I'm here
because
of your family problems,” Mac said. In fact he was enjoying the scene. Antonio had showed his cards before they'd even gotten into the game. It was clear he was a complete narcissist who cared for no one but himself, and that included Paloma. He thought Lorenza had better deduct Antonio's share of his fee off the top
before
he got his hands on the reward money.

“I have a set daily fee,” he said mildly. “Plus the usual expenses, of course.”

“Of course,” Antonio said, finishing his vodka and signaling for another, as the waiter removed their plates.

Lorenza hadn't expected Antonio to behave quite this rudely. “Whatever your fees are, Mac, they will be taken care of immediately. All that concerns us is Paloma. And Bibi, of course.”

“Of course, Bibi.” Antonio sounded bitter.

Mac said, “Tell me about your sister.”

Antonio met his eyes for the first time. He shrugged, and raised his eyebrows. “Bibi? There's nothing much to tell. What you saw was what you got. It was all a façade, that sweet, sexy, girl-singer shit. Bibi could chop your heart out without a second thought. And if you want my opinion, that's exactly what she did with her lover and his whore. She killed 'em dead, Mr. Mac Reilly, hotshot TV detective.” He turned triumphantly to Lorenza. “There, I've just cut down on our expenses. I solved the murder. And now don't you think we're better off leaving the question of ‘is Bibi dead or alive' alone? And letting little Paloma get on with her life, not having to have a condemned murderer for a mother?”

Silence fell over the table. Lorenza hung her head and Jassy began to cry again.

“Oh, the hell with this.” Antonio flung down his napkin and got to his feet. “I didn't want to meet the detective anyway. I'm leaving.”

Mac got to his feet too. “Before you go, Antonio,” he said, “I think we can cut down even more on the expenses. Why don't you save time and trouble and just tell me where Bibi is.”

Had it been possible for a man so tanned to turn pale, Mac would have sworn Antonio did. He stood for a minute, staring, shocked, at Mac. Then without so much as a goodnight, he turned and walked out.

 

Chapter 30

“I'm sorry.”
Jassy sniveled quietly into her napkin. Johannes, the waiter, appeared and quickly removed Antonio's place setting. Other waiters arrived carrying large, plain white plates with a single oyster in the very center, glazed, Johannes told them, with aloe vera, agar-agar, and powdered silver.

Mac had never heard of agar-agar, nor had he ever eaten powdered silver, and he wasn't sure he wanted to try now.

Suddenly, he missed Sunny very much. He could see the two of them here together, at this extraordinary restaurant. Sunny would have enjoyed every new taste, even those she didn't like. “It's the experience that's the thing,” she would have said cheerfully. Her innocence seemed light-years away from this complicated family. He checked his Timex; eleven thirty and the restaurant was crowded, with still more people coming in. They ate late in Barcelona, but it was three in the afternoon in California, and he wanted very badly to talk to Sunny, he wanted to hear her laugh, ask him how he was and did his poor eye need kissing better.

He looked at the two women. Both were staring at their plates. Neither had touched the oyster.

“I'm afraid our lovely dinner has been ruined,” Lorenza said, sounding tired. “Perhaps we should call it a night.”

“Tomorrow is another day,” Jassy said, blotting mascara from under her eyes. She was always good for a cliché to fit the occasion.

“Please tell Floradelisa we had to leave,” Lorenza told Johannes, who wrung his hands and stared, disturbed, at their uneaten oysters.

Mac handed him a hundred-dollar bill, thinking what the hell, let Antonio complain about the expenses. He apologized and turned to leave. Then he turned back, picked up the oyster, and put it in his mouth. He stood for a second, eyes closed, savoring it. Then he opened them and smiled at the bemused Johannes.

“I never ate silver before,” he said, grinning as he followed the two women to the door.

*   *   *

Lorenza and Jassy
sat in the back of the BMW and Mac sat up front with the driver. They dropped him at the Méridien first. He got out of the car and Lorenza put down her window and leaned out to say goodnight.

“Did you get the responses you were looking for?” she asked.

“I believe I did.”