or even surprised by Maya Vega’s admission of having the child, but he felt she had told him the truth.
If she’d lied, however, then it was just a matter of time. Others would learn what Shepard had and Maya’s son would be discovered. Then killed. If that happened, Shepard would have the blood of his nephew on his hands unless he did something to protect him.
His cell phone rang as he entered the airport terminal.
“Sí.”
Eduard Reyes’s voice wasn’t the stern one of Shepard’s youth, but his father’s haughty demeanor belied his age. He wasted no chitchat on his son. “When are you returning?” he demanded. “Javier has a problem and we need you here.”
Shepard paused by one of the huge windows that looked out toward the runways. They stretched for miles, it seemed, their expansion restricted by a ring of industrial hangars. His father’s bed faced the Andes, and Shepard wished he were staring at those mountains instead.
“I’m at the airport now. I’ll be on the next flight out. What’s the problem?”
His father ignored his question. “Did you attend to your foolishness?”
He’d told his family he was thinking of opening a second retail outlet in Houston. The excuse had seemed reasonable to him because they had a small shop in Bogota already. Its profits were huge, but so were the hassles. No one had been pleased by his idea but they would have been even more upset had he told them the truth of his mission. Especially Javier.
“Yes, I did.” Shepard lied, but followed it with the truth. “I’m not sure what my next step will be.”
“I suggest you come home and tend to your real business before the mines fall in and I must rescue everyone myself. I’m not too old, you know. I could go back to work tomorrow.”
“That’s not necessary, Papá. And besides, you know the doctors—”
“Los doctores pueden ir al infierno.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure they need doctors in Hell, but you need them more.” Shepard shook his head. “Tell Javier I’ll be home as soon as I can.” He started to say more, then he realized he was talking to an empty line. His father had hung up.
Shepard muttered a curse, then continued down the hallway toward his gate, the added worry of what Javier’s problem might be now accompanying him. Every time Shepard left, Javier would call their father and inform him of some catastrophe. Before Shepard could return, however, Javier always “handled” the mysterious problem, earning for himself, as always, more credit than was ever due.
It’d been his technique for years.
Renaldo had been the baby of the family, and he’d always been indulged. Luisa, the boys’ sister, did nothing right. Shepard, the middle son, cleaned up after everyone.
After Renaldo’s death, however, Javier had claimed the spot of favorite and how he’d chosen to do so was simple.
He’d killed his way to the top.
CHAPTER THREE
THE SOUND OF a crying child woke her.
Maya sat straight up in the bed and pushed the hair from her eyes, her hands trembling, her heart beating crazily. A second passed—and then another—before she realized she’d been dreaming. There was no child.
She swallowed with effort, her throat dry and scratchy. Rising from the bed, she walked into her bathroom and turned on the faucet, sticking her cupped hands beneath the flow then bringing them to her mouth. She drank deeply, but the icy water made her feel worse. Lifting her gaze to the mirror, she saw a lost woman with empty eyes and tangled hair staring back. Maya moaned and dropped her head again, her hands resting on either side of the sink.
Shepard Reyes’s presence had bullied its way inside her defenses and was holding her hostage. Four days had passed since he’d been there but not an hour had gone by without her thinking of what he’d said. The implication was almost too much to consider yet she’d done nothing but obsess over his supposed news.
Maya headed back toward her bed but as she sat down on the edge of the mattress, she wondered what she was doing. Why bother? She wouldn’t go to sleep, no matter how hard she tried—she knew because she’d woken up every night since he’d left and the results had been the same.
She was so exhausted, she’d actually called in early that morning and told Darlene she’d be working from home. Most of the attorneys put in at least half a day on Saturday; Maya usually stayed the whole day. After lying to her secretary, Maya had fallen into bed, a restless imitation of slumber overtaking her until she’d had the dream.
The phone rang suddenly and interrupted her gloomy thoughts. She wasn’t surprised it was Patricia.
“Maya? Darlene told me you weren’t coming in today. Is everything okay?”
Maya cursed the secretary and then herself. She should have just bucked up and gone to the office regardless.
“Absolutely,” Maya said, standing up. “I’ll probably come in this afternoon, but I wanted to be able to concentrate on my latest case. The phones and everything, you know…”
“Say no more,” Patricia answered. “I understand completely. They drive me to distraction sometimes, too.” She chuckled. “I should have known it was work but I was hoping something else might be keeping you at home.”
Maya stopped at the edge of the bed, her foot halfway in her slipper, her heart rocketing. She immediately imagined the worst. Shepard had told her who he was. Shepard had told her about Maya’s past. Shepard had… Maya forced her voice into calmness. “What kind of something else?”
Patricia’s answer shocked Maya, but not as she’d anticipated.
“Well, let’s just say that if I had a man in my office as good-looking as your co-counsel the other day, I’d hope to be going without some sleep. He was quite…striking.”
Maya was glad Patricia couldn’t see her expression. “Patricia, please… It’s not what you think…”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Maya. You’re a grown woman. It’s perfectly all right for you to have a suitor. In fact, someone like Shepard Reyes standing beside you on the podium would be a definite plus. He’d pull in more of the minority vote, plus he’d get every female with eyes in her head to the polls, hoping for a glimpse of him.”
“I—I don’t know what to say,” she replied faintly.
“Don’t say anything,” Patricia answered. “Simply take care of yourself and have a good weekend.” Her tone went playful. “Just don’t work too hard with Mr. Reyes… I need you here on Monday with your focus intact. We’ve got to start on the Barfield case.”
Chuckling once more, Patricia hung up.
Maya stood in shock for a second, then her feet moved of their own accord toward the kitchen. But her mind didn’t. It stayed with the image Patricia’s words had generated. Shepard Reyes was a handsome man, she supposed, if you went for that dark and dangerous kind of look. She’d made a studied effort to
