Wish Upon a Christmas Star (20 page)

“Whoever covered the camera was probably careful not to come
near the statue,” Maria said. “I doubt we’ll spot anything.”

Not even a minute had passed when Maria stiffened, her entire
body on alert. She leaned forward, putting her hand over the mouse. “I need to
back up the recording.”

She’d gone so white that Logan suspected the impossible had
just become a reality. His heart hammered. She must have seen her brother
passing by the statue.

Maria stopped the recording and then reversed it before letting
it run forward again.

“There.” She pressed a computer key that froze the image. “Oh,
my gosh. I was right. That is him.”

Logan leaned forward to get a better look. A lean young man
about six feet tall with brown hair was walking past Santa, his hands shoved in
his pockets. Even though it had been years since he’d seen him, Logan recognized
him, too.

“It’s Billy Tillman.” Maria supplied the name of Mike’s best
high school buddy, who she’d spoken to mere days ago. He evidently wasn’t in
California, as he’d claimed. “We need to have a talk with him.”

“How will we find him?”

Maria pointed to the monitor. “See the monogram on the shirt
he’s wearing?”

Logan leaned closer to the computer until he could make out the
stitching. “I’ll be damned. Billy works at Alex Suarez’s restaurant.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

K
AYLA
PRESSED
ON
THE
doorbell of the
gorgeous two-story home on Stock Island, a pricey enclave within the city limits
of Key West that boasted some of the area’s only waterfront neighborhoods.

Evergreen wreaths with showy red bows hung from white
balustrades, contrasting nicely with the house’s pale yellow stucco. The
landscaping was to die for, with colorful, fragrant flowers interspersed with
green foliage.

Even the doorbell was fancy. It was shaped like a dolphin.
Kayla pressed on it again and waited, tapping one of her feet. She was primed
for a fight and now she might need to accept that nobody was home.

Except maybe that wasn’t so. The showpiece of a house backed up
to a quiet canal that led to both the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico.
She’d bet anything there was a waterfront pool in the backyard and a private
dock with a boat slip.

She circled around the house, navigating her way through the
lush landscaping. A gate separated the front yard from the back. It was
unlocked. She swung open the gate and stepped through, finding exactly what she
thought she would. The pool was tear-shaped and rimmed by lounge chairs with
thick blue cushions. It was also empty.

The boat ramp wasn’t.

Kayla squared her shoulders and walked determinedly on her
high-heeled wedge sandals toward the man who was lifting a cooler onto a sleek
motorboat that was at least twenty-four feet long.

Alex Suarez turned, straightened to his full height and watched
her stride toward him. With his black hair, olive skin and long nose, he was
undoubtedly a handsome man. Her heart gave one of those leaps it had been
experiencing for the past two years whenever she spotted him.

“Stop it, heart,” she muttered under her breath.

“Kayla,” he called when she was close enough that he didn’t
have to shout. “What brings you here?”

She marched up to him and held out the sunglasses she’d taken
off the Santa statue.

“I believe these belong to you,” she said.

Alex made no move to take them. The sun overhead was bright,
causing him to squint. Kayla own eyes were shaded by sunglasses.

“You must be mistaken.” He sounded haughty, befitting their
luxurious surroundings. The restaurant business had made him a wealthy man, she
realized. Whatever she did, however, she couldn’t let him intimidate her.

“I’m not wrong.” She took a few steps closer to him and
indicated the right lens of the glasses. “The pair you were wearing when you
hired me had a scratch exactly like this.”

“You sure about that?”

“Positive.” She’d made some mistakes while learning the ropes
of private investigation, but she was improving by the minute. She’d always been
observant, a trait that would serve her well if her uncle Carl kept her on.
“These are your sunglasses.”

He said nothing, waiting for her to play her hand. It was time
to go for broke, she thought. She raised herself to her full height.

“I know you’re behind what’s happening to Santa,” she
declared.

She heard him exhale before his neighbor a few docks down
revved the engine of his boat. Two teenage girls ran to join him, their laughter
and bright voices filling the silence. Kayla waited, refusing to lose the
stare-down.

“Okay, you got me.” He finally broke eye contact and the
silence, his voice matter-of-fact. “But I’ll deny it if anybody else accuses
me.”

Kayla caught her breath not because she was surprised but
because she’d wanted to be wrong. The image she’d had of Alex for the past few
years didn’t jibe with what she now knew to be true.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “You’re a member of the
merchants association. Why would you pull those pranks?”

“You’ve seen the statue.” He let out a short laugh. “It’s
commercialism at its worst, flying in the face of what Christmas is supposed to
be about. I was trying to get the association to take it down.”

“Couldn’t you have just asked?”

Alex crossed his arms over his chest, stretching the material
of his shirt. He had a surprisingly thin chest. James, who was several inches
shorter, was built better. “I tried the diplomatic approach when we were
discussing getting a statue commissioned. I even got another artist to present
an alternative proposal. It didn’t work.”

Kayla remembered hearing that Alex had opposed the statue from
the start. Heck, hadn’t he told her that himself? She’d be more careful about
checking all the angles in future. This case proved that sometimes the most
obvious answer was the right one.

“You must have volunteered to handle things when the
association decided to hire a private investigator,” Kayla said, thinking aloud.
“The better to throw suspicion off yourself.”

He clapped three times. “Very good.”

The wheels in Kayla’s brain continued to turn. The Keys weren’t
teeming with private investigators, but every other P.I. she could think of had
more experience than she did. A pelican was perched on a nearby post, seeming to
listen in on their conversation. Even the pelican could have put this
together.

“You knew my uncle Carl was out of town,” she said with sudden
insight. “You didn’t think I could crack the case.”

“Ah, I was hoping you wouldn’t think of that,” Alex said,
seeming sheepish. “It doesn’t sound good and I’m really not such a bad guy.”

“You must have gotten worried when I called on Maria DiMarco
for help,” Kayla said.

“It turns out I should have been most worried about you. Was it
only the sunglasses that gave me away?”

She shook her head. “I found out you and James Smith are
cousins. You were tipping him off so he could get the photos. You even used a
prepaid cell phone so the texts you sent him couldn’t be tracked.”

“Very good detective work,” Alex said. “Like I said, it seems I
underestimated you.”

“Alex!” a melodic female voice called from the direction of the
house. Kayla turned to see a tall, stunning brunette walking toward them from
the pool area. She wore short shorts that highlighted her long legs and a
sleeveless top showcasing her large breasts. She stopped halfway down the dock.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Vanessa, this is Kayla,” Alex said. “Kayla, Vanessa.”

“Hi,” Vanessa said with a friendly smile. “I thought I heard
the doorbell when I was in the shower. Was that you?”

“That was me,” Kayla verified.

“I just came out to say I need a few more minutes to get ready
for our boat ride. Okay, Alex?” Vanessa asked.

“Take all the time you need,” he told her with a smile.

“Thanks!” She blew him a kiss and hurried back toward the
house. Her shorts were so brief they barely covered her rear end. Alex watched
her go, a slight smile curving his lips.

“Vanessa is your girlfriend,” Kayla stated.

Alex nodded. “That’s right.”

“Why did you tell me at the pub that she wasn’t?”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” Alex sucked in a breath. “I
shouldn’t have misled you. But I knew you had a little crush on me, and thought
I might be able to use it to my advantage.”

Kayla stifled a groan. How could she have been so stupid?
“That’s why you invited me to the pub.”

“I was trying to figure out when you’d be watching Santa, so I
knew when I could strike again,” he said. “When you told me about the security
camera, I had everything I needed to know. But first I emailed the merchants
association about the camera so I wouldn’t be the only suspect.”

“You covered the camera,” she stated.

“It was surprisingly simple to sneak upstairs at the souvenir
shop,” Alex said. “There were a lot of people inside and that clerk is easily
distracted.”

Kayla’s stomach tightened. What Alex had done wasn’t so awful
in the great scheme of things. She even agreed with him about the tackiness of
the Santa statue. However, if she couldn’t get him to come clean, it would
appear as though her investigation had failed.

“You’ll really deny all this if I put it in a report?” Kayla
asked.

“I really will.” Alex smoothed an errant hair back from his
handsome face. “I’ll be sorry if your uncle doesn’t keep you on. I like you,
Kayla. I just like my position in Key West society more. One more thing. Under
the circumstances, I’m sure you’ll understand I have to fire you.”

Kayla gave a short laugh.

“What’s funny?” he asked.

“Remember that crush I had on you?” she asked.

He nodded.

“It’s gone,” she said before turning and leaving him on the
dock.

* * *

I
T
WAS
NEARLY
CLOSING
TIME
when Maria and Logan got to the popular Cuban-American restaurant owned by Alex
Suarez. Maria had wanted to confront Billy Tillman straight away, but Logan
persuaded her it was best not to crash the kitchen when lunch hour was in full
swing.

The wait had given Maria time to come up with a few possible
scenarios.

“Billy could have known all along that Mike was alive,” she
said, speaking her leading theory aloud as they crossed the outdoor seating
area. “He could be helping Mike get back at Caroline for the way she treated
him.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Logan said. “Let’s just talk
to Billy.”

Maria nodded, knowing he was right. Since they’d spotted Mike’s
friend on the surveillance recording, Logan had been more clear-headed than her.
He’d not only suggested waiting until the restaurant wasn’t so busy, he’d
verified that Billy Tillman was working today.

“I didn’t even think about questioning the cooks about Mike the
last time we were here,” Maria mused.

“Why would you? Cooks don’t usually come in contact with the
customers,” Logan said. “No way could you know Billy worked here.”

“His mother doesn’t even know. She told me he lived in
California.”

“Exactly.” Logan squeezed her elbow gently as they reached the
restaurant interior. “So stop beating yourself up over it. We’ll know soon
enough what’s going on.”

Logan was right. Maria could be minutes away from finding out
what really happened to her brother on 9/11. She wiped her damp palms on the
skirt of her sundress. A thousand butterflies seemed to flutter in her stomach.
Hope? Or dread?

As an investigator looking at the case from all sides, she’d
been forced to concede that not all the possible scenarios had happy endings.
She mentally stamped out the negative thoughts and chose to hope.

“Sorry, we’re about to close.” A smiling young waitress who
hadn’t been working the other day approached them.

“We’re aware of that.” Maria eyed a swinging door at the back
of the place and pointed. “Your kitchen is through there, right?”

“Right.” The waitress sounded perplexed.

“Thanks.” Maria looked at Logan and indicated the kitchen with
a jerk of her head. He nodded, receiving her silent message. When she headed
straight for the kitchen door, he was with her.

“Hey, you can’t go back there,” the waitress called.

Maria ignored her, pushing the door open with an outstretched
arm. The kitchen was spacious and modern, with stainless-steel appliances and
gleaming white countertops. Three pairs of startled eyes flew to Maria and
Logan. One of them belonged to Billy Tillman, who was beside the grill.

She read panic on his face before he dropped the spatula in his
hand, turned and fled out the back door. Adrenaline surged in Maria like a
tsunami. She gave chase, knocking aside a kitchen cart along the way. It
clattered against a cabinet, a plate falling off and crashing to the floor.

“Hey! What’s going on?” shouted a young kitchen worker in a
hairnet.

Maria didn’t take the time to explain. She followed Billy out
the door and found herself in an alley. She looked left, then right, spotting
him maybe twenty yards from the back of the restaurant.

“Hey! Stop!” she yelled.

Billy kept running. Maria dashed after him, her heart pounding
at an even faster tempo than her feet.

“I just want to talk, Billy.” She could barely get the words
out as she ran. This was crazy. She knew he worked at the Daybreak Café so she
could eventually track him down. Surely she could say something that would make
him listen to reason. “I know where to find you.”

Billy slowed noticeably, then came to a stop between a row of
palm trees lining the fence of someone’s backyard and the rear of a pale pink
building that housed a retail shop. He bent over at the waist, gulping in air.
She stopped, too. Within moments, Logan was upon them.

“Why did you run like that?” Maria demanded. She was breathing
fast, too, but more from the adrenaline still coursing through her system than
exertion.

Billy gazed up at her, trying to catch his breath. “I dunno. It
was dumb, I guess. I wasn’t thinking.” His eyes shifted to Logan. “Logan? What
are you doing here?”

“He’s helping me,” Maria answered for him. “We want to talk to
you about Mike.”

“Aw, hell,” Billy exclaimed, standing up straighter and
scrubbing a hand over his face. “This isn’t the way I wanted things to go. I
never thought Caroline would involve you.”

Maria frowned. “So you know about the phone calls and the
blackmail note?”

“Blackmail note? Hold up!” He put up a hand. “I wouldn’t have
asked for money. Not after I found out you were in town. You’ve gotta believe
me.”

“I’m not the police, Billy,” Maria said. “All I’m interested in
is the truth.”

“Okay.” His features contorted. “Here it is. The bitch doesn’t
deserve to marry a rich guy and live the high life, not after what she did to
Mike.”

Maria wanted to yell at Billy to skip ahead. She didn’t care
about Caroline. Her only concern was Mike. If Billy told the story at his own
pace, however, she’d have a better understanding of the events of the past few
weeks. She forced herself to decipher his comments.