“Girlfriend,” Ana whispered.
Alejandro squeezed her hand. “He’d wrecked his MG, so he must have called someone to give him a ride home. Maybe he stayed at her home rather than his own.”
“Ah yes, it’s a possibility. He should surface soon. I need for you to look at some photos from the memorial service. You left rather early, and there were a couple of men who arrived later. It’s possible you know them.”
“Why didn’t you ask them their names?” Alejandro inquired.
Montoya’s smile slid into a predatory smirk. “I did, of course, but that doesn’t mean the ones they supplied or wrote in the memorial book were accurate.” He pulled a manila envelope from his coat pocket and shook out the candid photos taken at the memorial. “Do either of these men look familiar?”
Alejandro slid Ana’s hand under the covers to hide her ring before he reached for them. “Ana suffered a concussion and her vision isn’t clear yet, so she’ll need a few days before she can identify anyone from a photo. They don’t look familiar to me, though.” He returned the photos to Montoya. “Maybe someone else at the memorial knows them.”
“Perhaps.” The lieutenant did not look pleased. “How are you, Miss Santillan? I was so sorry to learn you’d been hurt on your way home from the memorial.”
“How do I look?” she asked.
Alejandro tried not to laugh, but that was the Ana he knew. “As you can see, she’s doing very well for the injuries she sustained. She needs to rest, though, so please don’t stay long.”
Apparently losing interest, Montoya moved toward the door. “I’ve stayed long enough, Mr. Vasquez. Good afternoon to you both.”
Ana closed her eyes. Alejandro thought she’d fallen sleep, but after Montoya closed the door, she looked up at him. “I don’t like him, do I?”
“No, not at all. He’s working on Jaime Campos’s murder. Do you remember Jaime?”
“Please hand me another strawberry. Thank you.” She ate it in small bites. “Someone killed him. What a waste. He was an excellent photographer. What could have happened to Gian Carlo? Does he blame himself for the accident?”
“It was his fault, and he readily admitted it, so I doubt he’d hide.” He turned as Dr. Pallares came to the door.
“Good afternoon,” she said. “I’m happy to see you’re awake, Ana. May I speak with you privately, Mr. Vasquez?”
“Are you in trouble?” Ana whispered.
“I hope not.” He stepped out into the hall and followed Dr. Pallares to a secluded spot in the hallway around the corner. “What’s wrong? I thought Ana was doing as well as could be expected.”
The physician stuck her hands into her coat pockets. “She is. We ran several tests when she came in yesterday, and one will show if a woman is pregnant even before she knows it herself.”
Afraid he knew what was coming, he braced his hand against the wall. “Are you saying she’s pregnant?”
“Yes, but she’d not have missed a period yet. After being so badly injured in the accident, she could miscarry. I think it would be a kindness if we didn’t mention the possibility of a baby just yet. Were you two hoping to have children?”
Dumbfounded, he didn’t know how to respond. Ana had said she would have married Miguel Aragon had he lived, but they’d never talked about marriage or children as a general subject of conversation. He had no idea what she’d want. Hell, they weren’t married in the first place, and he’d gotten himself in much too deep. “Don’t most couples want to have children?”
“Some do and some don’t. You’re both young, and I thought you might want to postpone becoming parents.”
He straightened up. “Let’s concentrate on getting Ana well, and then we’ll talk about having babies.”
“Whatever you wish, but I wanted you to know the truth. I don’t usually keep things from my patients. Ana is bruised from head to toe, and with the pain meds, she might not make a decision she’d be comfortable with later. I doubted you’d want that to happen.”
“No, of course not. Thank you for telling me first.” He waited in th
e hallway while she went in to see Ana. He continued to feel sick that she’d been hurt so badly, but she’d shown him a glimpse of her usual feisty sparkle. A broken leg would impact her career, although she could pose for ads seated, if the scar on her cheek healed to a faint scar. She’d balked when he’d urged her to pursue photography, so apparently she wasn’t ready to retire from modeling. Or she hadn’t been prior to the accident.
Where a baby fit into her life, he didn’t know. She could hire a nanny, but somehow, he thought she’d want to raise a child herself. If she wanted to raise a child. Sometimes condoms failed, so he thought he was the likely father. He’d assumed she took the pill like most young women he’d dated, apparently not. He swallowed hard. He’d claimed to be her husband, but there was a huge difference between that ruse and being slammed in the gut with fatherhood.
Chapter Twelve
After Dr. Pallares left, Alejandro looked in on Ana, but her eyes were closed, and he wouldn’t disturb her. He called Fatima before leaving the hospital. She’d gone to Ana’s condo to feed the kittens and wanted him to come and tell her everything Ana hadn’t disclosed.
The kittens rushed to him as he came through the door. He scooped them up and scratched behind their ears before setting them down. “They’re getting big. Did Ana really think she’d find a good home for them?”