Beautiful Storm (Lightning Strikes Book 1) (31 page)

Hopefully, when they got back to Miami that would change.

* * *

Images of Liliana floated through Michael's mind on the three-hour flight from Texas to Miami. He replayed moments from their childhood that he'd thought he'd long forgotten: Liliana as a little girl sitting on the steps of her house with a book in her hands while the rest of them played baseball in the street and Liliana as a thirteen-year-old saying goodbye to him when he left Miami for prep school. She'd told him he was going to do amazing things. She couldn't wait to see what he turned out to be.

There were no recent images of Liliana in his head. He wished he'd made time to see her in the last eight years, but he'd never imagined that time would run out so fast. He'd always figured they'd run into each other again one day.

Well, he was going to find her killer, no matter how long it took. He would get her justice if it was the last thing he did. He had no idea how he could make that happen, but somehow he'd find a way.

He didn't realize the plane had landed until Alicia called his name.

He looked up, seeing everyone on their feet, pulling their luggage out of the overhead bins. Unbuckling his seat belt, he stood up and followed Alicia out of the plane.

They'd carried on their bags, so they headed straight to the exit and hailed a cab. It was three o'clock in the afternoon, but there was very little sun today. Another storm was blowing in off the coast, and the gloomy skyline seemed a perfect backdrop for the terrible news they'd recently received.

"I need to talk to Diego and see the Valdez family," he said, as the cab pulled away from the curb. "I'll drop you at home first, then go to my place and get my car."

"All right," she said slowly, giving him a thoughtful, measuring look. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I think I should talk to Liliana's family on my own. They're going to be devastated."

"I understand. Michael, I haven't wanted to press, but can you tell me who called you to tell you about Liliana and what exactly did they say?"

"It was Diego. He said someone called in an anonymous tip last night saying that Liliana's body was in the park. They gave specific directions on how to find her."

"An anonymous tip after all this time?" she asked doubtfully. "I thought they had just done another search of the park and stumbled upon a grave or something."

"No, it was a phone call. Diego said they have not been able to trace the call. I'll know more after I touch base with him."

"Who would call in a tip? The person who kidnapped her—killed her?"

He stiffened at the reminder that Liliana had died a violent death. He almost couldn't bear to think of how that had happened. "It's possible it was an accomplice or someone the kidnapper spoke to."

"I wonder why that person called the tip in now."

"Maybe with the constant press, the candlelight vigils, the person developed a conscience."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"No, but I have no other answers, Alicia." He drew in a breath. "Sorry. This is why I need to be alone."

"I'm just trying to help."

"I know you are." He put his hand on her leg. "Just give me a little time."

"Of course," she said, as the cab pulled up in front of her building. She gave him a compassionate smile as she opened the door. "I'm really sorry that it ended like this. Call me later, okay?"

"I will."

She hesitated, and it looked like she wanted to say something more, but in the end she just got out of the cab and said, "Goodbye, Michael."

There was a finality to her words that he didn't like. He wanted to call her back or get out of the car and follow her inside. There were things he needed to say to her, things that had nothing to do with Liliana, but that conversation would have to wait. He had no ability to think beyond what he needed to do next, and that was to find out what had happened to Liliana.

* * *

Diego met Michael in the parking lot outside the medical examiner's office an hour later.

"You can't go inside," Diego said, his gaze grim. "You can't see her body. I'm sorry, Michael. It's family only. And even if it weren't family only, Kellerman wouldn't allow you to see her body."

"I need to see her, Diego."

"No, you don't," his friend said forcefully. "You don't need to see her the way she is now. Remember her as she was. Trust me, it's better that way."

He wanted to argue, but judging by the steel in Diego's eyes, any further fight would be pointless. "What can you tell me about the tip or what evidence you've collected so far?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you anything."

"I'm still a suspect? How is that possible?" he asked in frustration.

"We have her body; we don't have her killer. And you've been out of town for three days."

He shook his head in amazed anger. "You think I called in the tip?"

"I don't, but there are others who consider it a possibility."

"Kellerman is crazy." He blew out a breath. "When was she killed? Can you tell me that at least?"

"We don't have a specific timeframe yet."

"But you have something. Come on."

"Judging by the condition of the body, it's been a couple of months," Diego admitted. "It's my belief she was killed shortly after she disappeared."

He stared back at Diego for a long moment. "All this time she's been dead?"

"It looks that way."

"Have you spoken to her family?"

"I talked to Isabel earlier; she couldn't stop crying. She'd been so hopeful for a different outcome. Kellerman spoke to her parents. Their house is now filled with relatives and friends. They're in shock."

He couldn't even imagine the pain they were going through.

"What about you, Michael? What did you find out in Texas?"

"That the case Liliana was working on is tied to her death. Kellerman did a piss-poor job following up on that end."

"What do you mean?"

"Liliana was investigating a double homicide, and it looks like the woman convicted of those murders is innocent. I think Liliana got too close to the real killer. They followed her back to Miami and killed her here. That put the police investigation into her disappearance miles away from her life in Texas. It was a good idea, too. Because no one has been looking in Texas for her killer."

"We did look in Texas."

"Not very well."

"You have every right to be angry, Michael, but we only have so many resources. We had to look in Miami first. As for what was going on in Texas, do you have any proof to back up your theory?"

The blunt question made him realize he had nothing concrete to turn over. "I have some notes Liliana made and some information I've gathered from people who had more to say than they were asked."

"What are you talking about?"

"I spoke to a coworker of the woman who was killed. He told me that he spoke to Liliana, that he gave her important information and then she disappeared. He was scared out of his mind when I showed up to ask more questions. When I went to follow up with him, he'd grabbed his wife and kids and left his house in a big hurry. So tell me I'm not on to something."

Diego stared back at him with concern. "You should have gone to the police in Texas."

"I was considering it. Then you called. Maybe I shouldn't have left Corpus Christi, but all I could think about was coming home, seeing Liliana." As he finished his explanation, it occurred to him that maybe that's why someone had called in the tip. They'd wanted to get him and Alicia out of Texas. Had that person been Sandbury? Had he wanted to get rid of them so he and his family could go home? "Damn," he muttered.

"What?" Diego asked.

"I just realized that there's a good chance someone called in the tip about the body to get me and Alicia out of Texas. Think about the timing—we're down there asking questions, stirring up an old crime and suddenly someone steps forward with critical information."

"We need to sit down and go over everything you learned down there," Diego said. "I'm on duty until seven. Why don’t we meet later tonight? I'll come by your place."

"I thought Kellerman told you to stay out of this."

"He did, but I'm no longer listening. I'll see you around eight."

"All right. I'm going to see Liliana's parents now. I need to say something to them."

"Good luck. It's rough over there."

Twenty-Two

Alicia tried to take a nap when she got home. She hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night before, but her mind wouldn't let her rest. She kept thinking about Michael, about how he was feeling, what he was going through.

It bothered her that he'd shut her out. He'd barely spoken three words to her after he got the news. She'd told herself it was just the shock, the grief, that had made him withdraw from her, but there was a little nagging worry deep inside that she couldn't seem to shake. She didn't know what she was so concerned about. They hadn't made any promises to each other. It was just a strange and abrupt ending to an intense relationship.

They'd been living in each other's pockets for almost a week and now she was alone in her house. It felt weird. She needed to go back to work tomorrow. She needed to get back to her life, but how could she do that? She needed something from Michael—at the very least a
goodbye
,
see you later
.

Not that goodbye would make her feel a lot better, but it would be better than this feeling of uncertainty. She'd had a place by Michael's side in the investigation. She'd been a trusted partner. They'd bounced ideas around and supported and taken care of each other. They'd laughed and they'd loved, but now what?

With a frustrated groan, she gave up on a nap and got to her feet. She went into the kitchen to make tea. She needed a wake-me-up.

While the water was heating, she sat down at her kitchen table and opened her computer. Pulling up a blank page, she started to make her own notes. Michael still had Liliana's notes in a pocket somewhere, but she remembered a lot of what was on there. Plus, she had some ideas of her own to add.

She typed in suspects, then put in Paul Sandbury. Was he really a suspect? Or was he more of a witness to something? Deleting the word
suspects,
she changed it to
people to follow up with
. After Paul, she added Lieutenant Hodges to the list. They needed to fill her in regarding Sandbury's quick exit from town.

Next came Jerry, who still owed her a call back, and Cheryl, who might have more information or at the very least a way to contact the Bryers' former housekeeper. She'd liked to talk to that woman and possibly her son, too.

Who else? She tapped her keys lightly as she thought about everything she'd learned.

Brian Randolph, Connie's ex-husband came to mind. He might have an alibi, but he was still worth some follow-up questions, especially in regards to his blow-up with Connie at the MDT offices. Which brought her back to the company where both Connie and the professor had worked. Michael's grandfather had said he might be able to get Reid to speak to them.

But as she finished typing in Will Jansen, she wondered if she was just spinning her wheels for no reason. Maybe the police already had clues to Liliana's killer. Maybe Michael would prefer to be done investigating since there was no hope of bringing Liliana back alive.

Alicia still wanted to keep going, but would Michael feel the same after going through what would probably be a very sad funeral?

She also had to consider why she wanted to continue. She'd neglected her life the past week. She hadn't even framed her most recent batch of lightning shots to hang in the gallery. Wasn't it time to get back to reality?

But they didn't have an answer, a killer. They didn't have the justice she had promised Michael she would help him get. If he wanted to continue, there was no way she would say no.

Her phone rang, and she jumped for it, hoping it was Michael. It was crazy how much she missed him, considering they'd only been apart for a few hours, but it wasn't Michael. It was a Texas area code.

"Hello?"

"Alicia? It's Jerry."

"Hi, how are you?" she said, relieved to have someone else to talk to so she could get out of her own head.

"Not bad. I have some news for you."

"Really? That's great. What is it?"

"I spoke to one of my bartenders, and she told me that the woman from MDT who was killed had told her that a coworker was following her, taking pictures of her and it creeped her out."

"Did she know who that coworker was?"

"It was the same name you asked me about—Paul Sandbury."

Her stomach twisted into a knot. "Why would he take pictures of Connie?"

"Beats me, but I thought you might want to know."

"Why didn't the bartender testify about Paul at the trial?"

"Kayla was the one who testified. This was another woman. She said no one asked her, and she didn’t want to get involved. But, of course, she was willing to talk to me, since I'm the boss."

"Of course."

"Do you want to come by the bar and talk to her?" Jerry asked. "She's working tonight."

"No, actually, I'm back in Miami."

"Oh, I didn't realize you were leaving so soon."

"They found the lieutenant's body last night, so Michael and I came back."

"Well, I guess it's over then."

"Not entirely. We still don't know who killed her. I may be back to Texas soon. But in the meantime, could I speak to your bartender over the phone?"

"I'll give her your number and have her call you. Her name is Monica."

"Great. Thanks, Jerry."

"I don't know that you should be thanking me. It sounds like you need to get out of this situation, Alicia. It's dangerous. Three people are dead already. I think your father would tell you to leave it alone."

"But he wouldn't have left it alone. He was all about justice, standing up for what is right."

"Well, that's true," Jerry said, a heavy note in his voice. "But that got him into trouble, and I'd hate to see the same thing happen to you."

"I'll be careful."