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6
Word of Josephina Garcia’s death spread quickly. The housekeeper sent one of the groomsmen to town to fetch the undertaker and the sheriff. Shortly afterward, most everyone in town knew of her demise. Diego had purposefully stayed away from home that day, hoping to avoid any conflict with his father, as well as any questioning that might come about from his being the last guest at the Garcia house before the old woman’s accident.
It was nearly seven o’clock when he returned. He knew his family would be at dinner, and he hoped he might be able to go upstairs to his room unnoticed. It was not to be, however. The butler greeted him and directed him to the dining room.
“The family is awaiting you there. Your father asked that you come immediately without worrying about dressing for dinner.”
That didn’t sound encouraging.
Diego drew a deep breath. There was nothing to do but comply. If he dared to ignore his father, Diego risked his anger. He walked slowly down the hall to the dining room. What would he say if questioned about Señorita Garcia? Hehad thought about this quite a bit. Her house staff knew he’d been there, but no one saw when he left. His plan was to say she was alive and well when last they’d spoken.
He walked into the dining room, and his mother was the first to meet his gaze. She looked worried at first, but a flicker of relief passed over her expression. Maybe things weren’t going to be all that bad.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“Where have you been?” his father demanded.
“Out seeking employment as you requested. Just as I’ve been doing every day since you told me I’d be abandoned on my birthday.” Diego hadn’t meant to say that last part. He hadn’t meant to bring up the date at all, hoping his father might have forgotten. He took a seat at the table and waited for whatever was to come.
“Have you heard the news about Josephina Garcia?” his father asked.
“Yes. I heard while I was in town. I saw her just this morning.” Diego put on a sorrowful expression. “It’s a terrible loss.”
“Yes. Her household staff relayed that you were there to the sheriff. He was here to speak with you, but I had no way of knowing where you’d gone.” His father’s gaze narrowed. “Apparently, you were the last to see her alive.”
“I was?” Diego feigned surprise. “I’m shocked. Her housekeeper was right there, and I believe a maid might have been as well.”
“Her housekeeper said she left you two alone to talk.” His father’s tone was laced with suspicion.
Diego picked up his napkin and placed it on his lap. One of the kitchen boys set a plate of food in front of him. Apparently, they were having roast duck for dinner. Diego wasn’t fond of duck, and his family knew that full well.
“Yes, we were in the front parlor. She had a lovely fire, as it was quite chilly this morning. I went over early so as to see her before heading to town.”
“What for? What did you want from her?”
Diego shrugged. “I thought perhaps she’d heard from Isabella. I know I haven’t said anything to either of you, but we plan to be married.”
“Bah! Her father will never allow it. Especially now,” his father replied.
Diego picked up his knife and fork and gave his father a look of innocence. “Why do you say that? For some time now, Isabella and I have known we would marry. She’s already agreed.” That was a lie, but one he felt certain would easily turn to truth.
“You should never have even discussed marriage without first talking to her father.” Esteban Morales dabbed his lips, then took a long drink of wine. “At this point it’s immaterial,” he continued. “The housekeeper said she had no idea when you left. She didn’t see you go.”
“What does that have to do with anything? Why are you acting as though I did something wrong by visiting Señorita Garcia? I didn’t leave her dead in the front parlor, if that’s what you’re trying to find out.”
His father kept watching Diego as if trying to catch him in a lie. Diego knew the trick was to keep his story as close to the truth as possible.
“We know that.” His father offered nothing more.
“Well, after checking to see if she needed my help with anything, I left for town. I arrived there by nine. The bank was just opening. I had a long talk with Mr. Brewer, the manager there. I thought he might have a job I could do.”
“And did he?”
“No.” Diego cut into the duck.
“Señorita Garcia fell down her stairs,” his father said. “The housekeeper found her at the bottom of the staircase. She’d hit her head and broken her neck. The doctor said she died almost instantly.”
“How awful.” Diego put down his knife and fork. “Hardly dinner conversation. This will be so upsetting to poor Isabella. I believe I should go to her in New Mexico.”
