Legacy of the Highlands (14 page)

“Stop it!” Alex grinned and pushed him
away.

“I’m kidding! Quincy Market sounds great. By
all means let’s ride the T.”

Alex was amused by Diego’s ability to enjoy himself
in an atmosphere so different from the chic restaurant he’d taken
her to in Miami. They sat on benches at a long wooden table under
the historic building’s rotunda and began their meal with thick
clam chowder. It was the one course all of them could agree on.
They then went their separate ways with instructions to buy four of
whatever each wanted. Alex bought pizza, David chose lobster rolls
and Francie found a stall with spanokopita and dolmades. “I love
Greek food,” she gushed as she set the overloaded tray on the
table.

Diego was gone so long that Alex began to
worry. “I’m going to look for him. He must be lost.” But as she
rose from her seat, she spotted him carrying a tray with a
self-satisfied smile on his face.

“I found fish tacos! In Boston! There’s this
tiny shack in Baja where they make the best ones, but I tasted
these and they’re surprisingly good,” he exclaimed. Alex dabbed a
blob of white sauce from his lip and was startled to realize that
her first instinct had been to lick it off his face. She hoped no
one noticed the blush she was sure was there.

“Dig in,” David suggested unnecessarily.

By the time they’d finished every last morsel
of the eclectic international feast, they were groaning and
clutching their stomachs.

“I think we’d better walk this off,” Alex
finally said as she barely stifled a burp. “This was fun. Will used
to love this place,” she said as they left the market. Diego draped
his arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder. Francie
took her friend’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Their silent
support was comforting and she was able to think about Will minus
the usual crippling sadness. Could it be possible to talk about him
and feel pleasure? Maybe Diego was right, and Will would want her
to be happy again. She liked to think that he was watching them and
cheering her on. The image made her smile.

“Should we head back to my place for coffee
or a drink?” Alex suggested. “We were so busy stuffing our faces
back there that we hardly had a chance to talk,” she said, and
couldn’t resist adding, “unless you want to stop at Emack and
Bolio’s for ice cream. They have a flavor called Serious Chocolate
Addiction that’s…”

“Shut up, Alex, or I’ll throw up. I’m
dangerously stuffed and I feel nauseous,” Francie groaned. “Did I
really eat pizza, chowder, tacos, spanokopita and lobster?”

“Killjoy. Fine, no ice cream,” she conceded
playfully. Christ, she felt good and she was having fun. Will was
dead and she was enjoying herself without feeling guilty...or
disloyal.

They walked toward the Haymarket T station,
but continued past it. The night was clear and a breeze off the
Atlantic had cooled the summer day’s heat. “May I borrow your
husband for a few minutes?” Diego asked Francie as they strolled
away from downtown.

“Sure, but I want him back,” she quipped.

“Of course,” Diego said as he and David
increased their pace.

“What’s up? What don’t you want the women to
hear?” David asked.

“Alex told me that you’ve stayed in touch
with the authorities and they’re no closer to solving Will’s murder
than they were right after it happened. I want you to know that
I’ve got people looking into it and I’m certain that it won’t take
long for us to find out who did this. I know you’re a lawyer, so I
won’t go into the details, but I can assure you that Will’s death
will be avenged.”

“I guessed as much since you’re not the kind
of guy who stays on the sidelines as a spectator. But for both our
sakes I’m going to forget that we’ve had this conversation. As an
officer of the court I can’t know anything about what you might do,
but as Will’s friend I’m relieved to hear that someone will get to
the bottom of this. I’m sure that makes Alex happy too.”

“She doesn’t know. When the time is right,
I’ll tell her.”

“Good. If you do anything that could get you
arrested, don’t tell me about it, but also know that if I can help
in any way, ask.”

“Thanks, but like you said, it’s best if you
maintain your distance.”

“I will. But my offer stands.”

“You’re a good man. We should join the
ladies. If they ask, all I wanted was your opinion on a legal
matter.”

They headed up Beacon Street and along the
Common. The beauty and peace of the Public Garden looked so
inviting that Alex suggested they cut through it on the way back to
Commonwealth Avenue. As soon as she spotted a bench, she raced to
it, sat, kicked off her shoes and ran her feet over the cool,
slightly damp grass. “Aah,” she sighed with pleasure. The strappy
sandals were killing her feet and she cursed herself for choosing
fashion over comfort, but she hadn’t expected a hike.

“I’m so happy to be with the three people I
care most about,” she said as she became aware of the peace she
felt for the second time that evening.

“Do you think you can walk the rest of the
way, madam, or shall I carry you?” teased Diego.

“You’re not serious.”

“I am,” he replied and scooped her into his
arms as if she weighed nothing.

A part of her wanted to demand that he put
her down, while another reveled in his strength and wanted to cling
to him. Her nose picked up the spicy scent of his cologne. Will
never wore cologne. This wasn’t Will. “Put me down! Put me down
now!” she shrieked as Francie and David cracked up.

Diego reluctantly lowered her before he
embarrassed himself. His physical reaction to her was no longer in
his control and he sensed that Alex had been very aware of his body
no matter what she’d said.

He was right. Alex couldn’t blame her racing
heart on anxiety — not this time. To cover her reaction, she bent
down to stuff a small piece of tissue between the start of a
blister and one of the sandal’s straps and they continued on their
way.

Blissfully barefoot on the kitchen’s cool tile
floor, Alex made coffee while Francie gathered mugs and filled a
small pitcher with milk.

“So, is there anything you want to tell me
about you and the gorgeous
Señor
Navarro?” The flush that
crept up Alex’s face was answer enough.

“Me and Diego? Are you crazy?” she
erupted.

“Not crazy, sweetie, observant,” Francie
commented softly as she reached for a bag of cookies.

“Nothing’s going on, so drop it. Just drop
it.” Alex bristled as she stalked out of the kitchen, then did an
about face a moment later. “Forgot something,” she mumbled as she
picked up the coffee tray to bring to the living room where Diego
and David sat in front of the TV, companionably watching the
Yankees score two runs to tie the Red Sox four all.

“Help yourselves,” she said, but the men were
too engrossed in the game to hear. She shrugged, tossed a cushion
onto the floor and stretched out. Why in hell would Francie think
something was going on with her and Diego? She was just flirting
for chrissakes. It didn’t mean they were having sex. And if that’s
all it was, why was she so defensive?

“Hey! We were watching that,” David said to
his wife when she joined them in the living room and turned off the
TV.

“Why do you have to torture yourselves
watching the Sox?” Francie asked. “You know what will happen.
They’ll be ahead until the eighth inning and then pow! They start
playing like our nephew’s Little League team and blow it. Besides,
we’re here to talk, not zone out in front of the tube.”

She poured coffee then cuddled next to David.
She rested her hand on his thigh as he absentmindedly twisted one
of her curls around a finger and watched it spring back into place
when he let go. No one spoke. They sipped coffee and munched on the
chocolate chip cookies Alex always stocked for those times when she
thought she’d die if she couldn’t have something sweet.

She looked from one face to another. Not only
was this normally talkative group silent, they weren’t even making
eye contact with her. Their behavior was pissing her off big time.
“What? What’s going on? You people are freaking me out. If you’re
worried that I’ll break if we talk about Will or even his effing
parents, I can assure you I won’t. But I can’t stand this silence.
Please, someone, talk!” she commanded looking directly at
Diego.

“All right, okay, I’ll start.” His back
straightened as he shifted from a TV-watching slouch to perch on
the edge of the sofa. “Alex and I are going to Scotland, and we
need to leave soon.” He continued before anyone had time to react.
“But first, you and I,” he said, his dark eyes fixed on Alex, “will
have a long talk with John Cameron.”

All hell broke loose as if Diego had said
that he and Alex were going to run naked through the street.
Francie jumped to her feet. David grabbed her hand and tried to
pull her back down. “Let go of me,” she hissed and shook free of
his grip. Alex was on her feet, too, and soon Diego and David
joined them.

“Darling, Francie,” Diego said
condescendingly, which only irritated her more. “If you give me a
chance to explain, you’ll see that if we have any hope of tracking
down Will’s killer it’s perfectly logical that Alex and I have to
go to Scotland. Serge is sure Will’s death is connected to that
country. The
sgian dubh
left beside his body means
something. We all know that. And the police here are clueless. Come
on!” he railed, but was wise enough to close his mouth when Francie
approached him hands on hips, eyes flashing with anger.

“First of all, Mister Navarro, Alex is still
a wreck and today, after she had a huge panic attack, we made a
list of the things she has to do in Boston. In Boston, Diego, not
Scotland! And who the hell is Serge, some goon you hired? Who do
you think you are, fucking James Bond? No way are you going to take
my best friend traipsing around the world to find a murderer.
You’ll get yourselves killed and I won’t allow it!”

“She’s right you know,” added David. “Alex
should stay in Boston. Going to Scotland now to track a criminal is
crazy. Let the authorities do it.” He sent a silent apology to
Diego. After what he’d told him, David knew he had to cover his
ass.

Alex was steaming as she clapped her hands to
get their attention. “Stop it! Just stop it! Sit down and shut up.
All of you!” To her surprise, they quieted and sat. “Am I
invisible? Why do any of you have the audacity, the arrogance, the
chutzpah to think you can decide what I will or will not do?” She
glared first at Francie and her husband and then at Diego. “Since I
finally have your attention, I’ll tell you what I’ve decided. And
don’t say anything until I’ve finished.” She knew it would require
all their strength to follow that last request, but she hoped that
her three friends recognized glimmerings of the spunky Alex they
used to know. She threw another of the sofa cushions to the floor
and gracefully lowered herself onto it, facing them.

“I’ve already told you that I need to start
doing things for myself. You’re my best friends in the whole world
and I love you, but I need to prove to myself that I can be strong
again. Will wouldn’t want me to remain a blob of Jell-O and neither
do I. Okay so far?” They nodded their agreement.

“First, I agree with him,” she pointed at
Diego. “I have to see John Cameron and find out what the hell he
wants from me. I can do this alone, but I’d prefer that you come
along. Will you?”

“Of course,
Preciosa
. Anything, you
know that,” he said softly. Because of what Serge had told him
about John’s possible connection to the Scottish nationalists, he
had questions for Will’s father too.

“And I still have to go through Will’s
things.”

“I can help you do that,” Francie
volunteered.

“Thanks, but that’s something I want to do
myself.”

“Okay…fine. I guessed you would say that,”
she muttered and slumped into her seat. “But if you change your
mind…”

“Great. Next, I want an update from the
police. They seem to have forgotten about Will and I want to know
if they have any new leads.”

“As your lawyer, I’ve been checking with them
regularly and they haven’t forgotten, but there’s still nothing new
so you can skip that one. I’ll stay on it,” added David.

“Good. I can always count on you, can’t I?”
she smiled warmly at him. Diego felt a pang of jealousy, but let it
go. “And that makes me more certain about the next item on my to-do
list. Diego’s right. In about a week or so, he and I should leave
for Scotland and see what we can turn up there. Will’s murder is
connected to the week we spent in the Highlands. I know it. And
since Serge is already there, we’ll be safe. He’s Diego’s
bodyguard,” she added for Francie and David’s benefit. “And he’s no
goon. He was with Mossad.” To Francie, whose grandparents had
survived the Holocaust, Israel’s agents were the gold standard.

Alex shivered and pulled the covers up over her
shoulders, but a familiar scent — which, in her Pavlovian response,
meant ‘wake up’ — tickled her nostrils. A moment later, her groggy
brain registered that the aroma teasing her senses was coffee. She
forced her eyes open, ridiculously buoyed by the familiar smell and
the sound of footsteps in another room. For the briefest moment,
she thought she’d had an extremely vivid, horrific nightmare and
that, as usual, Will had woken up first and made coffee. It only
took an instant for that comforting image to shatter. It wasn’t
Will; the footsteps belonged to Diego.

She dragged herself to the shower and let the
steaming water soothe her tight shoulders. It was going to be
strange to share this space with another man, however temporarily,
but she couldn’t very well ask Diego to leave, not after he’d been
such a generous host. On the other hand, a Boston apartment, even
one as large as hers, wasn’t a luxury villa, and they’d be in
closer contact here.