Maggie answered on the first ring. He could hear Rafael laughing in the background. “I wanted to make certain you two are all right.”
“Of course we are. How are you and Libby?”
“We’re busy. I’m tired of being on crutches, and she’s working to distract me.”
“That’s good. We’ll see you soon.”
“One last thing. I’ll probably change the security code before you come home. Did you give it to anyone in your family?”
“No. What’s missing?”
“Nothing, I’m just trying to do a better job of taking care of things.”
He ended the call. “She didn’t share the code. They’re safe, and if they don’t pick up any of the tabloids, it will look as though we are too.”
She frowned and rubbed her temple. “Could the problem be with the security company?”
“I’ll ask when their man gets here. If someone is leaking codes there, they’ll be out of business soon.”
“They deserve to be.”
The elevator repairman took one look at what was left of the elevator and sent for his supervisor. After a thorough inspection, the supervisor shook his head sadly. “The elevator must be replaced. Parts are no longer available, and I’d not recommend repairing such an old model even if parts could be found. Would you like me to prepare an estimate?”
“Yes, please,” Santos replied. The wood paneling had been as intricately inlaid as a jewel box. Now all that remained were the blackened steel walls.
He hobbled back to his place on the living room sofa. “We’re lucky the fire didn’t damage more of the house.”
“That’s one way to look on the bright side.” Libby curled up on the opposite end of the sofa.
“I don’t dare be otherwise. There’s a dark strain running through the Aragon family, and I won’t be part of it.”
“People don’t have a choice. Depression is a disease.” She recalled his mother’s death as a probable example. “Exercise affects your mood. So does sunshine. Let’s go out on the patio.”
“Bring the papers.” He grabbed the arm of the sofa and rose on his own. Once seated at the round table, he began comparing the photos of the fire with their view. “It just occurred to me our fire bug may have stayed on the beach to take photos he planned to sell.”
“Photos usually have a credit. Is the photographer’s name given?”
“No, but I’ll have Cazares look into it. I thought I’d have heard from him by now.”
She sat forward in her chair. “Could something have happened to him?”
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called him. Relief washed over his face as Javier answered. Their conversation was brief. “He’s just finished printing the photos he took yesterday, and he’ll be here within the hour.”
“Good.” She shaded her eyes with her hand and searched for a familiar face on the beach. “I don’t see Victoria.”
“Maybe she was on vacation and went home.”
“I don’t think so. There was something so, well, theatrical about her. Patricia makes friends easily, but Victoria might have targeted her to begin with.”
“I didn’t like her,” he stressed.
“I didn’t either.”
“No, you don’t understand. She was a beautiful woman, but not my type.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” she countered, disappointed she’d apparently fallen into his favorite category of women through no effort on her own.
“No, of course not.”