57

Graciella managed to make it through the endless candlelight vigil ordeal, but it wasn’t easy. Natalia Salazar turned out to be a lovely woman who seemed genuinely grief-stricken over the loss of her husband. Graciella was mystified as to how someone as bright and attractive as Natalia could have been so completely bamboozled by someone as creepy as Arturo. She was clearly a far better woman than the man had deserved.

During the vigil, with Graciella present but discreetly on the sidelines, Isobel made herself useful—bustling around, greeting arriving guests, helping serve refreshments, offering her services in making funeral arrangements. When Bianca Navarro approached the widow to hug her and offer her tearful condolences, Graciella had wanted to fling her glass of Chardonnay across the room at her. Bianca had slept with Arturo on the day he died, and now she was here comforting his widow? How dare she? But then Graciella realized she had no right to talk, not since she herself was the reason Arturo was dead.

As the evening wore on, Graciella considered whether she should give Isobel advance warning that she wouldn’t be in for a couple of days. In the end she decided against it. Sometime tomorrow morning would be time enough for her to announce the need of an emergency trip to the States.

“See you tomorrow,” Isobel said as Graciella stepped out of the car in front of her building.

“Right,” Graciella returned, “tomorrow.”

Up in the fifth-floor unit, Graciella packed a bag. For a two-day trip, a single carry-on would be sufficient. When she went to get cash out of the safe, she wondered if she should leave El Pescado’s encrypted phone behind or bring it along. By rights she should have called him the moment she learned of the existence of that key-logger hack. She hadn’t done so for one very good reason—she was afraid of his reaction. Felix Duarte was a dangerous man who didn’t suffer fools gladly, or failures, either, and at this point Graciella felt she was both. Once she’d completed her damage control operation—after she had gained control of Frigg and fixed the problem—that was when she would inform her father and not before.

So she thought about taking the phone along, but in the end she left it where it was—plugged into the charger in her safe. She told herself there was no point in carrying it around since it probably wouldn’t work in the States, but that wasn’t the whole story. She was also afraid that if it was on her person, El Pescado might be able to follow her movements.

It wasn’t late when she finished packing, but Graciella was too antsy to sleep. Instead, she paced the floor, hour after hour, cursing Owen Hansen and cursing Frigg! This was war. Graciella Miramar would either take control of that damned AI or she would destroy her. There would be no middle ground.

She finally fell asleep about four in the morning. At seven, the alarm rousted her out of bed. She had coffee, put on her makeup, dressed, and went to work, arriving at her customary hour. Just before noon, she faked a phone call. When it was over, she went straight to Isobel.

“I just got off the phone with an attorney from the States. There’s a problem with my mother’s estate, and I need to go there to straighten things out.”

“Is there anything I can do?” the always helpful Isobel asked.

“No, I just checked with American. There’s one seat available on the evening flight to Miami, and I can fly out today, if that won’t be a problem. I should be back by Friday.”

“We’ll manage,” Isobel said. “You do what you need to do. And feel free to take the whole weekend instead of rushing back on Friday. I just spoke to Natalia. That’s the day of the funeral, unless you want to be here for that.”

“No,” Graciella said. “Funerals aren’t my thing.”

She left the office at noon, walking. Back at El Sueño she called for a cab, collected her carry-on, and went downstairs. It was early to head for the airport, but she didn’t care. What she wanted to do was make it through security and then tuck in to the first-class lounge for a glass of champagne and maybe a nap. It had been a long night, and this would be a very long day.