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Elena’s office was a couple of blocks from the station, and she talked as they walked along. “I meant what I said about suing the police. They’ve no reason to question you once, let alone twice, and if they dare to come near you again, I’ll double the sum we’ll ask.”
Her office was on the second floor of a building packed with law firms. She had several partners and led them past the receptionist into her cluttered office. “The place is a mess, but I know where everything is. Sit. Do you want coffee?”
Ana had stowed her empty travel mug in her bag. “No, thank you.”
Alejandro shook his head and pulled his chair closer to Elena’s desk. “If you work with Ana’s agent, do you have many criminal cases?”
“I do contracts mainly, but I know how to scare off the police. Now that nobody is listening, who do you think really killed Jaime Campos?”
Ana pulled her notebook from her bag and first noted the time they’d arrived. “I’ve no real clue. Maybe it was something personal, or he could have photographed something he shouldn’t have, or have been blackmailing someone. We also wondered if he might have had a dark side, done porn photos and got involved with the wrong crowd.”
Elena raised her hand. “Don’t blame anything on the porn industry. It’s a headless beast with a thousand waving arms. It’s a good thought, however. The police must have searched his studio and computers for leads.”
“What if he had a second studio?” Alejandro asked.
Ana’s expression brightened. “Of course, he’d have had another studio to keep the porn crowd out of his regular business address. Where would that be likely to be? Down at the docks?”
Elena stood up and opened her door. “Begin writing a screenplay, but don’t go knocking on doors looking for a porn studio. You’d never get out if you actually found one.”
Alejandro stood and offered Ana his hand to rise. “Is there anything else we can do to discourage the police?”
“More than a lawsuit? No, not now. As for the tabloid that published the offensive photo, you don’t want to waste your money suing them. It would just give them a reason to republish the photo.”
“I’ve lost one job since it was published, and if I lose more, that’s a good cause for a lawsuit, isn’t it?”
“Let’s concentrate on the police for now,” Elena insisted. She walked them out to the office entrance. “Let’s keep in touch.”
Ana wasn’t sure what that meant, and she took a firm grip on Alejandro’s hand as they walked away. He sounded so sure of himself, while she feared being a suspect would end her career long before Jaime Campos’s murder was solved.
Chapter Eight
Alejandro drove them to the docks where the Mediterranean Goddess was moored. “She sails at the end of the week, and her sister ship, the Mediterranean Siren, will come into port. Going on board ought to take your mind off the rest of the morning. There are several pools, so we could swim. My father reserves a cabin in case he decides to go on the cruise. There are swimsuits, whatever you need there.”
The ship was painted a near-blinding white and sparkled in the morning sun. Ana raised her hand to shade her eyes and craned her neck to look up. “How many of these magnificent vessels does your family own?”
“There are a half-dozen of the cruise ships, more tanker ships, but I’ve lost count.” He held her hand as they walked up the gangplank. The man guarding the gate at the top recognized him.
“Mr. Vasquez, welcome aboard.”
Alejandro greeted him by name and pulled Ana close. “We won’t be on board long.”
“Stay and sail with us.”
“Another time,” Alejandro replied. He led Ana along beside him. “People board and take the elevators to their deck. Want to see the bridge?”
“I’d love to,” she answered. “How do your passengers keep from getting lost?”
“Stewards offer directions, but I used to get lost all the time when I worked as a steward. Eventually I caught on. The bridge has the best view, and I’d come up here whenever I could at night.”
While he wouldn’t admit it, she saw the pride in his gaze. “Were the other stewards allowed such easy access to the bridge?”
He pulled her close for a hasty kiss. “No, but I was supposed to become familiar with everything, so I had special privileges. I wasn’t cocky about it.”
When they reached the bridge, a navigator smartly dressed in a white officer’s uniform welcomed them. Alejandro introduced him to Ana, and the officer’s smile grew wide.
“I saw you when you were here last week. I bought my wife a red bikini on the way home.”
“I’m pleased our ad was so effective,” Ana replied. She saw Alejandro wince, as though he’d rather forget the day. She hoped he regretted his own behavior rather than her posing in a bikini with Gian Carlo.
