Secrets and Lies (Crimson Romance) (23 page)

“No. I told you I’d changed. But you can learn who I am now.”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Alejandro, you can settle an argument now that you’re here,” Rosita began. “We were discussing whether to hold the wedding here or in America.”

“Wedding?” Juliana’s father asked, frowning.

Juliana held up her hand and Charlie’s. “Surprise, Papá.”

“Those are wedding rings.” Captain Sanchez looked shocked, and then resigned. He ran a hand slowly down his face.

The younger cousins whooped with laughter. “They’ve been pretending to be married,” Alfonso explained. “Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez. But really they’re engaged.”

Charlie squeezed Juliana’s hand. Captain Sanchez didn’t seem too averse to having him as a son-in-law. “We could probably get a priest Rosita knows to say the vows over us today if you want.”

Rosita snorted.

Juliana poked him. “I want a big wedding. I want the whole world to know we were meant to be together.”

Her father sighed. “The priest can marry you today. Later we’ll have a big summer wedding. In America. We’ll invite everyone. I’ll pay.”

Rosita clapped with glee.

“And you,” Captain Sanchez pointed to Charlie. “I’ll sponsor you into the Police Academy.”

Rick looked stunned.

Charlie gaped. He thought of the Police Academy, and it sounded like the Army to him. Rules, regulations, schedules. He shuddered. “Thank you, Captain Sanchez, but no thanks. I’m a very
un
regulation guy. I don’t do well with authority.”

“How will you support my daughter and your children?” Captain Sanchez demanded.

“Papá, how old fashioned,” Juliana protested.

“I make a small living as a private investigator. My business is very young. Although I’d been counting on Jordan Hessler’s referrals to grow it. I can kiss that goodbye.”

The captain looked thoughtful. “I have an old friend, an ex-cop, who’s now a private eye. He gets a lot of business from Miami P.D., more than he can handle. I think he’d take you on as a partner.”

Move back to Miami? Charlie looked at Juliana. Her Sanchez relatives in Mexico were only three hours away, right across the border. Her Miami family was five and a half hours away by plane. Did he have the right to take her away from her family?

He glanced at Rick. Being with the Sanchez clan had made Charlie recall how good it used to be with his brothers. If Rick, his parents, and his older brother, Michael, were ever to get to know the new Charlie and accept him as the Sanchezes had, he had to see them regularly. There was nothing for him in California anymore. He inhaled a large breath. Yes, it was time to go home.

“I’d appreciate if you’d talk to him for me,” Charlie said.

“Tell him I’d like to work for him, too,” Juliana added.

Captain Sanchez looked like he wanted to protest, but he swallowed whatever he’d planned to say. “Fine.”

Rosita launched into plans to get them to the priest. The table broke up into excited chatter. Charlie used the commotion to take Juliana into his arms and kiss her breathless.

When they came up for air, Rosita was passing out glasses of tequila.

Felipe stood and raised his glass. “To the real Maya Hero Twins, Charlie and Juliana, who defeated their enemy through trickery.”

“
Salute
,” the cousins endorsed the toast.

Charlie kissed Juliana again. He’d triumphed over a lot more than Gutierrez to claim his soul mate, the other half of himself. They’d make every moment together count from now on. He thanked that damn sculpture for bringing them together once more.

Multi-published author Shay Lacy lives in northwest Ohio with her photographer/graphic designer husband. She loves following the man of her dreams with a camera in hand and a pen and notebook in her backpack. Sensible secretary by day, romance author by night, when not lost in her imagination or reading a good book, she is likely researching her next book with a SWAT team ride-along or a visit to a DNA lab.

For more information about Shay or to see the books she’s written, please visit her website at
www.shaylacy.com
.

Who sent this?
Bryce Gannon wondered, as he turned over the thick brown padded envelope marked CONFIDENTIAL looking for the return address. But the criminal defense attorney found no clue. Did it contain something for a case? He worked at the tight seal with his letter opener, but just as his curiosity was about to be appeased his phone rang. With one hand he reached for it, his gaze shifting away from the envelope.

Boom.
The envelope exploded, shooting white powder into the air, just missing Bryce’s face. He jerked, dropping the envelope, which poofed another small cloud of white. What the hell . . . ? He inhaled and choked on the dust.

A letter bomb.

From the outer office he heard a woman’s frightened scream. His desk phone continued to shrill for his attention.

God, a bomb. He coughed, trying to wave away the white mist, until his brain finally kicked in.
Get up, you fool. Get away from this crap.

Ramming his chair back from his desk, he sprang clear of the cloud. But he continued to cough. His right hand was covered with white and tingled from the explosion’s percussion. The powder, whatever it was, blended into his stark white shirt.

“Bryce!” his office manager Sharron Rudgate shrieked from the doorway, “Are you hurt?” Her eyes were wild.

“Call nine-one-one,” he managed, although it took all his breath to get those four syllables out. He couldn’t seem to draw enough air into his lungs.

Sharron shouted his message into the hall before stepping towards him, her hand outstretched. He waved her back. He didn’t want anyone else inhaling this crap. A young researcher appeared behind Sharron, her face white as she stared at him.

There was an awful taste in his mouth, more bitter than chemical. He couldn’t seem to clear his throat. God, was it poison?

“Bryce, how much of that did you breathe in?” The usually unruffled Sharron sounded nearly hysterical. “What is it?”

Bryce couldn’t answer either question. He couldn’t breathe. His lungs screamed for air. His bronchial tubes spasmed painfully. His breath whistled as he drew it in. He tore at his silk tie, undoing the knot, and yanked at the button of his linen shirt collar so hard the button snapped off. But it didn’t help. He clutched his throat with one hand and his chest with the other. His lungs were on fire.

His knees buckled, dumping him to the plush carpet.

Jesus, he was going to die.

“Bryce!” Sharron screamed. “Bryce, oh my God!”

Bryce had no breath to speak. There were more frightened faces in the doorway standing at a safe distance listening to the sound of his tortured breathing. His staff, his office, his legal practice. The trappings of his success.

He saw his life pass before his eyes and felt deeply disappointed. He’d never been in love, never married, and never had children. He’d gotten criminals off on technicalities to roam free to hurt more people. He’d accepted large amounts of money from them, like the check with lots of zeroes on it he got today from accused racketeer Adam Steele. It was dirty money, guilty money —
blood
money. Thirty pieces of silver to betray himself and the law he loved. He’d had so much promise coming out of law school . . . and
this
was what his life amounted to. He knelt on the thick carpet like a supplicant, pleading for his miserable life.

He didn’t think he’d be cashing that check.

Suffocating hurt. He’d scream at the pain if he could, but he couldn’t. His heart pounded in his ears, laboring hard. Black spots danced before his eyes. His friends needed him. It was too bad Bryce would fail them at the end. He couldn’t even pass on any messages to them. Dammit, he wanted to live. As his strength faded he sank to the carpet.

The world spun away with his regrets.

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In the mood for more Crimson Romance?

Check out
Love Is in the Air
by Anji Nolan at
CrimsonRomance.com
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