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“Maria.” She shakes it. “I’ve known those kids since they were little.” We both glance at Odin and Madelena. “And as long as the trattoria has been open, we’ve never had a soldier stationed outside.” She gives me a disapproving look.
“First time for everything.” I take my wallet out and set two hundred-dollar bills on the counter. “If this doesn’t cover their bill, he’ll take care of the rest,” I say, gesturing toward the soldier.
She pushes the bills back. “Birthday lunches are on me. And anyway, how much do you think lunch costs? I don’t extort money from my patrons. I’m not the mafia.”
“Touché. Think of it as a generous tip then.” I leave the money on the counter and walk toward my wife. I kiss her on the top of her head, memorizing the floral scent of her shampoo, and tell her to have a good lunch, then leave. I’m barely out the door when my phone rings. I take it out of my pocket to find it’s Val.
“What is it?” I ask, climbing into the car.
“You have company. Bea Avery.”
“At the house?” I ask, surprised.
“You want me to get rid of her?”
“No. I’m about ten minutes away. Put her in my office but stay with her.”
“Will do.”
I head home, seeing the ever-present shadow of the looming lighthouse. Hating it. I could tear it down, make a modern structure out of it to function as a lighthouse. I decide to look into it.
When I get home, two soldiers I don’t know stand outside of their SUV at my front door. I need to gate off the property. I hand the keys off to one of my men and head inside, straight to my office. I greet Val, excusing him as Bea Avery turns her head to watch me approach. She doesn’t get up.
Val closes the door, and I cross the room to take my seat behind the desk. Tables have turned. I wonder what she wants.
I think about what my mother told me, too. What Bea did to her. That and the fact that she knows Caius is the Commander’s son.
“What an unpleasant surprise,” I say to open the conversation.
“You’ve been in contact with him.”
“Excuse me?”
She reaches into her purse, takes out a sheet of paper that looks like it’s been crumpled in her bag for days and slams it onto my desk. “You and my son have been in contact.”
I glance at the sheet of paper, making out a part of my text conversation with Thiago—although conversation is a big word here.
“What game are you two playing?” she asks.
“No game. And I wouldn’t say we’ve been in contact. I got an address. That’s it. If Thiago wants to disappear, that’s his prerogative.” I have to keep in mind that she doesn’t know about Thiago’s presence at the lighthouse.
She gets to her feet, sets her hands on the edge of the desk, and leans toward me. She’s a small woman. I never really noticed that. I know not to underestimate her, though. Bea Avery is dangerous.
“Thiago took something that doesn’t belong to him.”
“And what’s that?”
She glares. “That’s none of your business.”
“Now I’m confused. If it’s not my business, why are you here?” My question, asked casually, irritates her. That fact makes me smile.
“He’s been in touch with you. I know that from his phone records. Where is he?”
“I have no idea, and as far as I’m concerned, I hope he stays gone because it seems like that’s what he wants.”
“Well, we all want things, don’t we, Santos? But we all have a duty.” She sits back down, studies me. “Obligations to our family. Thiago owes me.”
“What does he owe you, exactly?” That seems to surprise her.
