Personal Demon (Otherworld 8)

"Since returning from work shortly after eight."

"And the family?"

"Mrs. Cortez is discussing tomorrow's menu with the chef. I told him to keep her occupied. The boys are in bed, so you shouldn't be disturbed."

We followed the butler. The two guards brought up the rear. We were passing a darkened living room when a woman's voice came from the doorway just ahead.

"Hello? Oh. I didn't hear the bell ring."

The butler stepped sideways, as if blocking me from her sight. An unnecessary precaution. Bella, Hector's wife, had never met me. I presumed that was the petite blond woman who stood in the semidark doorway.

She was well dressed and attractive, a combination that usually indicated self-confidence, yet she paused a few feet from us, as if uncertain she had the right to question the appearance of strangers in her home.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Cortez," Paige said, stepping forward. "We asked your butler not to disturb you. We're from the office, on a matter that I'm afraid can't wait until morning."

Bella cast a nervous glance from us to our guards. "Is Hector expecting you?"

"It's quite all right, ma'am," the butler said. "I'll vouch for them, as will Mr. Cortez."

"But he doesn't want to be disturbed. Carlos made that very clear."

"Carlos Cortez?" I said.

"Yes, his--" She colored. "Of course you know who Carlos is. I'm sorry. Yes, that Carlos."

"When was Carlos here?"

She checked her watch. "An hour--no, I'm sorry, I mean he left an hour ago, so he arrived perhaps twenty minutes before that. He wasn't here long."

Which meant both Carlos and Hector had been here when Troy was shot. So neither could be responsible. William as the mastermind? Much less plausible, which is why I'd felt safe sending Hope and Karl after him.

"I'll call Hope," Paige murmured, as if reading my mind.

"Carlos made it very clear Hector didn't want to be disturbed," Bella went on. "And when he says that, he means it."

Paige shot a pointed look at me. Bella's nervousness had nothing to do with the late-night arrival of strangers--she was afraid of upsetting Hector. Very afraid from the way her hands trembled.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Cortez," Paige said. "We know this is an inconvenience to both you and your husband, and we wouldn't have come without calling again if his father had

n't insisted. If you'd like to phone Mr. Cortez..."

Paige intended to calm Bella with the assurance that we had my father's blessing, but the fear in the woman's eyes only grew. Afraid of arousing Hector's anger by calling my father? Or fear of my father himself? Because my father refused to name Hector heir, Hector insisted he was robbing his grandchildren of their birthright and therefore deserved to play no significant role in their lives. So they had little contact with him. A decision that hurt my father like nothing else Hector could have done. As for Bella's fear, I could only imagine what stories he told them to keep his sons from wanting to know their grandfather better.

"Mom?"

Stockinged feet appeared on the steps, then a stocky youth dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

"Emilio," the butler mouthed to me.

My sixteen-year-old nephew.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Emilio said as he came down.

"I'll call Hope," Paige murmured, and backed away.

Emilio stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at me, then the guards, then back to me, his face registering not an iota of recognition.

"They need to speak to your father," the butler said. "They're from the office and they'll be gone just as soon as they can."