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“A sailboat?” Nuñez repeated. “That wasn’t among my questions.”
Santos remained seated. “Whoever shot at me could have done it from a boat. If Mrs. Ramirez is still here, you could ask her if they own one.”
“Mrs. Ramirez is here?” He nearly choked on the question.
“Let’s go see if she’s on the patio.” Libby led him out through the door behind the main staircase. “Yes, she’s still here.”
Beatriz rose when she saw the detective. “Have you come to arrest me now?” she asked crossly.
“No, of course not, Mrs. Ramirez. I was merely wondering if your family owns a boat.”
“We live on the shore,” she answered sarcastically. “Of course we own a boat. It’s moored at the marina.”
“Thank you. Let me walk you and the boy home before your husband begins to worry.”
“I would prefer to go alone.” She stood to take Miguel Angel from Maggie and walked across the sand the way she’d come.
The detective shoved his notebook into his pocket. “What a perfectly marvelous day.”
Libby bit her lip to keep from laughing, but she was only partially successful. When Santos made his way outside, she told him the Ramirez family did own a sailboat.
“Can you search it?” he asked Nuñez.
“Fermin Ramirez will have a say in it, I’m sure. Does your family attract problems like this one often?”
Santos leaned on his crutches and cocked his head. “Attempted murder is a rarity.” He glanced at Maggie, who was focused on the bracelets hiding her scars. “We are all grateful for it.”
“As well you should be. I’ll stay in touch.” He took the path around the side of the house to the street.
Libby slid into her chair and waited for Santos to take his chair. “Mr. Ramirez probably took Victoria sailing with his daughters. She could have told Rigoberto the gate code. He could have shot at you from the boat and left the rifle on board.”
“With Rigoberto dead, will the authorities search for proof of that?” Maggie asked.
Santos reached for Libby’s water glass and took a long drink. “I could send Cazares to the marina to watch for Fermin. He’d recognize him and I wouldn’t. But if Fermin took the boat out this afternoon and tossed the rifle into the sea, it would be gone.”
“That would be tampering with evidence,” Maggie pointed out. “Isn’t an attorney an officer of the court here?”
Santos lowered his voice. “We sent Carmen to a private hospital rather than report a murder attempt, so I’m not going to comment on anyone else’s approach to the law. Now what should I do with Manuel?”
“You’ve worried long enough,” Libby offered. “If you were going to fire him, you would have already done so. You must want him to stay, on your conditions, of course.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket, called the chauffeur and asked him to come to the den. “We don’t need an audience. I’ll talk to him there.” He wore a preoccupied frown as he left.
The sisters returned Manuel’s nervous smile as he walked by them to enter the house though the kitchen door. “Santos isn’t nearly as fierce as he’d like everyone to believe, is he?” Libby asked.
Maggie regarded her with a slow, knowing smile. “I’ll bet he can be fierce when he wants to be.”
“He certainly can, but a fierce passion is another thing entirely, and quite a wonderful thing. He’s spoiling me terribly. I wonder if he’d let me spend every summer here.”
“If that’s what you want, say so.”
“It ought to be his idea.”
“Who cares whose idea it is if you both want it?” Maggie stressed.
Libby looked out at the sea. “Santos has too many people asking him for things. He needs the space to find what he wants for himself.”
“That’s a good plan, I suppose, but if he doesn’t realize how badly he needs you, you ought to give him some broad hints.”
