Chapter 15

“Life isn’t about the chances you’re given. It’s about the chances you take.”

No-see’ums buzzed through the sultry night air, riding a beam of moonlight. In the distance, strains of salsa music blared from a radio tuned to WQBA, Miami’s Spanish-language station.

“The preemptive strike was chancy given the short time I had to plan. But life isn’t about waiting to be given a chance. It’s about seizing the moment—making your own chances.”

The wail of a police siren cut through the night. It wasn’t coming this way. Why would it?

No one knew the truth, and no one ever would.

Who would be clever enough to figure it out?

Shane Donovan thought he was hot shit, but he didn’t have a clue.

“With Renata dead, everyone is in a tailspin. Just the way I wanted it.”

The radio clicked off and the sudden silence seemed oppressive to him. The dead air almost had a physical weight to it. The silence became louder and louder until it pounded in his brain like a drumbeat.

What was there about noise that comforted? In the distance, two alley cats geared up for a fight, yowling to the heavens in long, high-pitched screeches that were death threats.

Ah, that’s better.

“Vanessa is really in agony. Just what I wanted. By the time I’m done, Vanessa will suspect everyone in the family of killing Renata—even Taylor, her own daughter. Little does she know I’m going to kill Taylor as well.”

The cats were fighting now, clawing and screeching. The sounds ripped through the hot, thick night air like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Perfect music.

“Taylor doesn’t have long to live and getting cozy with Shane Donovan isn’t going to save her.”

“My mother’s so upset, so confused,” Taylor said to Shane. “I think Caleb has convinced her one of us killed Renata.”

“That man is nothing but trouble.”

“Mother has known me my whole life. How could she think I could possibly harm anyone?”

“Did she come right out and accuse you of it?”

“No, but I could tell she was suspicious.”

“She’s not herself right now,” Shane told her. “Caleb Bassett isn’t helping.”

It was after ten and they were sitting on Shane’s sofa with Auggie at their feet. Shane’s arm was around her, the way it had been almost constantly since they left her mother’s home around noon.

He was so close she could smell the elusive citrus-like scent of his aftershave. Taylor was drawn to his strength. Suddenly, the intimacy she’d been working so hard to avoid seemed comforting.

Trent had taken off with Raoul, and she couldn’t reach him. Her best friend, Lisa, was still missing in action even though the murder had made the headlines of the Miami Sun. Brianna and Doyle were at the hospital with her mother, who’d taken a turn for the worse.

Shane Donovan was the only person she had right now. A steady, reliable man, she decided. She hadn’t liked him at first, but she’d changed her mind.

The phone rang and Shane jumped up, saying, “I’ll bet that’s Vince.”

He’d called Vince earlier in the day to get him to use his contacts on the police force to see what evidence they had. Taylor listened, watching Shane and noticing two deep lines of worry appear between his brows. Evidently it was Vince and what he was saying was upsetting.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the second he hung up.

“Nothing really. It’s a good new bad news deal.”

He lowered himself into the place beside her and put his arm around her again. He kissed her forehead lightly.

“The bad news is the police found your fingerprints in Renata’s room, which is no surprise.”

It was impossible to steady her erratic pulse. “Are they going to arrest me?”

“No. The good news is they also found several sets of prints they haven’t yet identified. Your brother’s prints, as well as Raoul’s, are also in the room.”

“What? That’s weird. I can’t imagine why they would have been there.”

His eyes darkened as he held her gaze. “You need to consider the possibility your brother might have killed her.”

“No, not Trent. He couldn’t.”

Her protest didn’t have as much conviction as she would have liked. More and more lately she’d discovered she didn’t truly know her brother as well as she thought she did.

“That’s all the police have—fingerprints. They’re in the process of getting search warrants for the three of you as well as Doyle and Brianna. They’ll be looking for the murder weapon.”

“They won’t find it at my place. I don’t own a gun.”

He frowned, his eyes level beneath drawn brows. “Do you know anything about Santería?”

“Not really. It’s Cuban. A mix of voodoo and religion. I don’t know much about it, but Brianna probably does. Why?”

“Vince said Renata was wearing an arichanet pin when she was murdered. It’s a bead of jet that dangles from a gold bar.”

“A pin on her nightgown? How odd.”

“Apparently, it’s supposed to help ward off a hex. What bothers me about it is Renata called me down to the shipping department just about closing time yesterday. She complained one of the Cuban women had put a hex on her. She wanted me to move her to another department.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her to talk to you.”

“She didn’t contact me. Maybe she was waiting until the next day.” Baffled, Taylor rested her head against Shane’s sturdy shoulder. “The women in the shipping department are Cubans and they may believe in Santería, but I can’t imagine them putting a curse on Renata. Why would they?”

“Good question, but I spoke with Renata and she was upset. She is—was—a very superstitious woman.”

“Did she say who put the hex on her?”

“No.” Shane shook his head. “I should have asked, but I didn’t, and now it’s too late.”

“You know, a hex is one thing. Cubans can be very superstitious, but Caleb claims Renata told him her life had been threatened.”

“Really? She told me the hex was supposed to bring bad luck. She didn’t mention any death threat. Something must have happened after I left.”

“I find it difficult to imagine Renata being frightened by a hex. She seemed too tough to me.”

“She was superstitious enough to take the trouble to drive over to Calle Ocho. Vince says that’s where those—arichanet—jet pins are found.”

“If she’d been frightened, you’d think she would have bought a gun.”

“Maybe she had. Who’s to say she wasn’t shot with her own gun, although that doesn’t seem likely. How would the killer have known where she kept the gun?”

“You don’t suppose Raoul Cathcart hired someone to kill Renata?” Taylor wondered out loud. “He claims to know the best hit man in Miami.”

“A pro didn’t shoot Renata. According to Vince’s contact, a pillow was used to muffle the sound. A professional hit man would have had a silencer on the gun.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She heaved herself to her feet. “It’s been a long day. I’d better go.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

Shane stood up and led her to the door. Auggie trotted behind them, wagging his tail, obviously hoping for a walk.

“I’m a light sleeper. If the police show up in the middle of the night with a search warrant, I’ll be right over.”

Clouds gloved the moon, and the light in the courtyard was out. Something moved in the shadows and Auggie lunged toward it. A tomcat streaked across the flagstones and disappeared into the bushes.

Shane chuckled. “Once Auggie wouldn’t have dared chase a cat. He’s becoming a regular dog now.”

She paused to unlock her door, then turned to thank him for helping her today. She honestly didn’t know what she would have done without him. Shane’s gaze was as soft as a caress and just as seductive.

His lips dangerously close to hers, he traced the high arch of her cheekbones, then slowly eased the tips of his fingers into her hair. Suddenly, her blood thickened like warm honey. She knew he was going to kiss her, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

Gently covering her mouth, his lips pressed against hers. Strong arms drew her into the heat of his body, forcing her to acknowledge the hard length of his legs and powerful chest. His tongue brushed her lips, and with an inward sigh, she opened her mouth. Her arms slid upward, a scant inch at a time. Finally, one arm circled his neck while the other clung to his shoulders.

Shane’s arms tightened around her as his tongue mated with hers. Desire, dark and urgent, swept through her, chasing away her attempt to think rationally. The longer he kissed her, the more she needed him to keep kissing her.

Too soon, he pulled back, and she heard her own serrated sigh with a surge of embarrassment. Lordy, what he could do to her without half trying.

“I’ll be here tonight if you need me,” he said, his voice slightly husky.

Taylor was in her nightgown and ready to climb into bed. Had she no willpower? Why couldn’t she resist Shane?

She still loved Paul, didn’t she? Becoming involved with another man felt as if she were betraying him.

“Get a grip,” she mumbled to herself. “It’s been almost three years. Life goes on. Just be careful. Take your time.”

She heard a knock at the front door. Expecting the police with a search warrant, she threw on a robe and answered the door. Lisa stood there, smiling, a hot-pink shopping bag in her hand.

“Look what I’ve brought you,” she said, walking into the apartment as she handed Taylor a paisley canister. “Here’s my first product, Love Dust. It’s dried ground honey and guarana. That’s a root product from the rain forest. It looks like amber talcum powder, but it’s totally edible.”

Taylor couldn’t believe her friend was rattling on about what was obviously some Kama Sutra product when Taylor’s life was in such turmoil.

“You use the miniature feather duster inside to whisk the love dust all over his body. If he hasn’t ravished you by then, you lick it off.”

“Off who? What’s this all about?”

She swallowed hard, trying to control her anger. She’d put off calling Lisa and asking her why she’d returned to Miami without contacting her. Now, here she was, practically accusing her of having an affair.

Lisa tossed her dark hair over her shoulder, a familiar gesture, but one that Taylor now found irritating.

“Come on. I was here half an hour ago. I saw you kissing that hunk. What was his name? Shane something. I left and went back to my shop to bring you the Love Dust.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. It was just a kiss.” She put down the canister. “It didn’t mean anything. I have too many problems to be thinking about men.”

“Something’s wrong. I can tell.”

“What planet have you been on?”

Lisa’s dark eyes darted back and forth. “I’ve been working day and night to get my shop up and running. I’ve been sleeping there on a futon. I know I haven’t been around much …” She tried for a smile. “I’m sorry. What did I miss?”

“Everything.”

Taylor flopped onto the sofa and patted the seat beside her for Lisa to sit down. She couldn’t stay angry with Lisa for long. They’d been friends for too many years, been through too much. Lisa was hurting and using this Kama Sutra business to take her mind off her troubles.

It took Taylor a few minutes to tell Lisa all that had happened since they’d last seen each other. Taylor hadn’t quite realized how monumentally her life had changed in such a short time. Lisa hadn’t even met Renata and now she was dead.

“You’re telling me the police suspect someone in your family killed Renata?” Lisa asked. “Unbelievable.”

Taylor nodded slowly. She hadn’t told Lisa about the fingerprints in the room or the Santería business. Undoubtedly Shane wouldn’t want his sources compromised.

“Shane’s a security expert,” Taylor felt compelled to say. “He’s working for the company. We’ve been having some problems with our computer security.”

“Really?” Lisa’s dark eyes were fixed on hers, and Taylor tried to gauge her sincerity. “What kind of problems?”

“Sabotage. Messed-up invoices and stuff like that,” she replied, skirting the whole truth. “Did Trent ever give you the computer codes?”

“No, and I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

The outrage in her friend’s voice chilled Taylor. What was happening to her? She was beginning to suspect her brother of … well, not murder, but he could possibly be somehow involved. And now she was sounding as if she thought Lisa was behind the security breach.

“I was just wondering,” she said, making this up as she went, “if Trent had them written down somewhere at home where they might have been stolen. I have the codes over there in my desk in case I need them.”

“No, but he might have told Raoul. God only knows what he might do. He’s, like, one of the biggest skanks around.”

Taylor nodded, trying to appear as if she were considering this. Actually, she hadn’t realized Lisa knew anything about Raoul Cathcart. Of course, any number of people might have told her.

“I wasn’t totally honest about when I returned,” Lisa said, her voice troubled. “I came back to Miami and had a private detective look into Trent’s new life. I wanted to know where I’d gone wrong before I could truly let go of the past.”

“Oh, Lisa, there’s nothing you could have done. My brother is gay. He tried to fight it, and I’m sure he loved you as best he could. I think my father’s death freed him, allowing Trent to finally live his life the way he wanted.”

“I know,” Lisa replied in a broken whisper. “I’m okay with it now.”

Taylor wonder if she really was okay with losing Trent. Thinking of Paul, she knew how hard it was to get on with your life when someone you loved was taken away.

“The Buddhists call it bodhichitta, which is a Sanskrit word for the openness of heart and mind. I opened my heart and mind to the truth. I hadn’t failed at love nor had love failed me. You have to accept your fate, your destiny. Some things are not meant to be.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t care about Trent. He’s a wonderful person. I don’t understand what he sees in Raoul—other than he’s drop-dead gorgeous.”

“Trent and Raoul were picked up by the police last week for possession of crystal meth,” Taylor said. “It was my brother’s first arrest and hopefully his last, but if Raoul has a previous record, it could be a problem.”

“Can’t you talk to him?”

“I’ll try. Believe me, I’ll try.”

“That’s all you can do.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. They’d missed so much of each other’s lives in the year Lisa had been away. Taylor felt their friendship ebbing away. They needed to reconnect, spend time together.

“Tell me about your business,” Taylor asked. “You have a shop. Where?”

“Right here in SoBe on Fifth Street just off Ocean.”

“Great location.”

Taylor thought about the wonderfully restored art deco buildings in the area. After decades of neglect the pastel colored buildings had been restored. Versace had started the trend, and after his tragic murder, the renovation of SoBe’s architectural treasures became his legacy.

“I have several products being produced for me like the Love Dust.”

“How’d you know what to do and where to go?” Taylor was slightly insulted Lisa hadn’t come to her. Producing a product and getting it packaged wasn’t easy, but after her years at Maxx, she knew exactly what to do.

“I hired a consultant. I didn’t want to bother you,” Lisa said. “You need to spend your spare time working on your computer game. I contacted Jim Wilson.”

“Why would you call him? My father fired him when he worked for us.” She didn’t add that he was one of the people she suspected of tampering with their computers.

“Do you know why your father fired Jim?” Lisa asked, her voice pitched low.

“Not exactly. My father rarely fired anyone. He must have had a good reason.”

Lisa started to say something, then stopped, looking away.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Taylor asked.

Her friend looked at her again. “I thought you knew. Jim was fired because he was having an affair with your mother.”

A wild flash of disbelief ripped through her, but the concerned expression on Lisa’s face made her think. When Jim had been fired, Taylor had been so wrapped up in Paul Ashton that she hadn’t been paying attention to much else.

“I didn’t realize. I—”

A loud knock on the door interrupted her. This time it was the police.