Fierce Pride by Phoebe Conn

was awfully pretty, but he’d not repeat his father’s mistake with her mother. At least he didn’t smoke.

Chapter Five
    When Libby returned to the house after her run the next morning, Santos was on the patio, speaking with a man she didn’t recognize. She swung wide to enter the house without bothering them, but Santos gestured for her to join them and introduced Javier Cazares.
    The detective rose to greet her. “My pleasure, Miss Gunderson. I hope you’re enjoying Spain.”
    “Thank you, I am. What have you discovered?” Eager to hear, she drew a chair close.
    Javier consulted his notebook and addressed his remarks to Santos. “I’ve found no evidence any of the women you’ve dated had anything to do with the mirror incident. Rosalba Valdez has moved to Paris and wasn’t in Spain last weekend. Claudia Garcia was out with a date.” He paused to push up his glasses. “I told her I was writing an article about you and had come across her name. She doubted you’d remember her.”
    Libby sat up. “Would you rather I go inside?”
    Santos shook his head. “No. Maybe you’ll hear something I’ll miss. Go on, Javier, who else did you contact?”
    “I tried to speak with Francesca Muñoz, but her roommate told me she’d gone to Granada a week ago to visit her grandmother. I found her at the Granada number. Lucy Sereno has married an attorney and moved to Madrid. Maria Morin regularly volunteers at a children’s hospital across town and was there Sunday until late evening.” He looked up. “She’s dating a doctor on the staff, and they were together. The last name on your list, Lourdes Canales, died in a traffic accident in Switzerland last year.”
    “Lourdes is dead? I hadn’t heard. We didn’t date long. She was more interested in my father than me, which wasn’t anything new.”
    “You’re not serious,” Libby interjected.
    He shrugged. “We were only eighteen years apart. He was rich and famous, and I was a good-looking kid. Most women preferred him.”
    His flippant assessment of women’s preferences didn’t fool her. He had to have been hurt if women regularly stepped over him to meet Miguel. She reached out to take his hand. “Were they just after his money?”
    “No. Ask your mother about him and see how she describes him.”
    Stunned by his coldly worded suggestion, she dropped his hand. “There’s no reason to torture her.” She began to wonder about Ana Santillan’s taste in men and was smart enough not to ask. “What about the protesters? Did you find any promising leads?”
    Javier turned a page in his notebook. “They’re a varied group with few ties other than their opposition to bullfighting. I spoke with several men who’d been arrested during earlier protests. They wanted to congratulate whomever had flashed the mirror at Santos but had no idea who it might be. As for the women who frequently protest, they usually escape arrest, and I was unable to get their names. Next Sunday, I’ll be prepared with my camera and have more to report.”
    “Thank you,” Santos responded.
    Javier bid them good-bye and left on the path circling the house.
    “I don’t mean to be unkind, but does he remind you of a ferret?” Libby whispered.
    Santos leaned in. “The first time we spoke in person, that’s exactly what I thought. It’s the narrow face and glasses that magnify his eyes.”
    “And sharp nose,” Libby added.
    “And scratchy voice, as though he lives underground.”
    She leaned into his kiss. It was more a good-morning gesture, not the full, passionate kind. Still, she enjoyed it immensely.
    Patricia came out the backdoor, saw what Santos and Libby were up to and walked on down to the shore. Victoria was walking along the water, and she waved to her and caught up.
     
     
    Rafael asked Peter to come into the den, meaning to get the dreaded conversation over and done before Maggie even knew he was there. “Would you like coffee, or something stronger?” he