Yuri, too, had looked up from his work to see the reunion of two old friends. He thought, At least something good has come of Quiana’s case.
JZ drove lazily along the ocean front highway, listening to The Buena Vista Social Club as it blared from the car radio. On a lark, he’d signed a one-month lease on a cherry red ’57 Ford T-Bird convertible from the Havana Rent-a-Classic. The salesman had tried to push a huge pink-winged Cadillac on him that went for twice the money and twice the gas, which was scarce at the best of times and cost a fortune. While attractive for an oversize fifties car, it reminded him of something a Miami pimp would drive, so he’d passed on it, renting the smaller car instead. Having wanted to drive the classic T-Bird for years, the expense and difficulty of finding fuel seemed a small price to pay. No joke, Cubanos proved the best mechanics on the planet, attested to by the T-bird. The vintage ‘relic’ drove like a dream come true.
As JZ cruised the coastal highway in Miramar, he saw a black Peugeot parked along a peninsula overlooking blue sea and sky. As he approached, he thought how serendipitous it’d be to run into Qui Aguilera here, but he knew every Cuban cop drove the same model that she sported around in. He recalled how she’d so easily manipulated her car through the narrow side streets of Havana to arrive at the Varelas the night before. Seeing a figure in a light-colored dress that swayed in the breeze made him even more hopeful that it could be her; in the next instant, he saw that it was Qui. She pushed off from her car moving toward the water, her walk like her dance movements, rhythmic and seductive. JZ guessed she had no idea the effect her every step had on a man.
He pulled off the road and slowed to a stop, sending up gravel, the noise alerting Qui to his sudden appearance. She turned to see him as JZ hoisted himself to a high position atop the driver’s seat. He waved at her from the convertible.
Her features went from despondency to surprise, all in a moment. She smiled warmly, sauntering toward the car, admiring the classic auto as he admired her. “JZ, what are you doing here? Not stalking me, I hope!”
“Not at all. I was taking this beauty out for a spin. I just took the highway and wound up here. Running into an even greater beauty- you — is just an additional perk. The gods’re no doubt making up for my disappointing Saturday.”
“Disappointing… gods?” She gave him a curious look as she ran her hand over the perfect sheen of the red paint. “I love T-Birds.”
“Then hop in and let’s go for a ride up the coast.”
Frowning, she hesitated, backing from the car.
“Come on, my tarot reading this morning said I’m ’sposed to get everything I desire today. You wouldn’t want to defy fate, would you?”
“Hmmm… tarot cards. I’m not even convinced you believe in that sort of thing. Sounds like a line to me.”
“Are you kidding? I majored in magic.” He slid down into the seat, a smile on his face. “Come on, it’s just a drive.”
Qui came around the car to the driver’s side, leaned in close to him, and in a sultry Lauren Bacall imitation said, “Sure…you got me, but only if I can drive.”
Pretending annoyance, he awkwardly inched over the gearshift and into the passenger seat. “Ahhh…all right, if it makes you happy.”
She slipped in behind the wheel, shooed his hand from the gearshift and said, “It’s nice to meet a man capable of giving me what I want-even if it is just to humor me.”
“Hey, I want the wheel back sometime. This is temporary.”
She pulled away in a rain of pebbles. They sped down the coast without speaking, enjoying the wind, the freedom, and the car.
“I like it, JZ, being given what I want, treated well. I don’t always get that. But I have to tell you, I’m skeptical.”
He sat up straight at this. “Skeptical?”
“Come on, stumbling on me out at my favorite getaway? Did Liliana put you up to this? You can tell me the truth.”
“Do you always suspect ulterior motives and conspiracies?”
“Hey, I know how Liliana thinks.”
“She thinks we’re good together, but she didn’t have anything to do with this coincidence.”
“As for being paranoid, I’m a cop. Whataya expect?”
“But you can’t be a cop twenty-four seven, nobody can.”
“I’m not! You saw me at the Palacio.”
“Yes, we had a great time at the Varelas too.”
“Yes, we did, didn’t we.” Secretly, she enjoyed their banter but feared it might lead to a repeat of the night before when she’d had to reject his advances. “Liliana’s never liked my boyfriend, and she’s always trying to set me up with someone she approves of.”
“Ahhh, so you think Liliana approves of me?”
“She likes you a lot. That was apparent last-”
Qui’s phone rang. She hesitated, slowing the car, unsure whether she wanted to answer or not.
JZ moaned. “Oh shit. Is that mine?”
“No…wish it were. It’s mine,” she countered, taking the call.
JZ only half heard the voice coming in, but it sounded vaguely familiar.
Qui erupted, “Oh, my God, no!” Her face had turned white, and JZ noticed her single-handed death grip on the steering wheel. “Where? When?”
JZ became agitated alongside her, curious. What was she hearing?
“I’m on my way.” She dropped the phone into her purse. “That was Lieutenant Pena.” Tears welled up in Qui’s eyes.
“What’s happened?”
“It’s Montoya, my boyfriend…he’s dead. Another death.”
“Another death?”
“Three on Friday…and now my…my boyfriend.”
“Wait a minute. Three on Friday? Would that be my missing Americans?”
“Yes…maybe…I don’t know…likely…God, Montoya dead? How can it be? I just saw him yesterday.” She ran the car onto the shoulder.
“Stop the car,” he insisted. “Let me drive.”
She pulled over, relenting. They changed places and again sped away.
“Get me back to my car,” she muttered.
“No, you’re in no shape to drive, and besides, I can get you there safely. Let me do this for you.”
She swallowed hard, realizing JZ was right. This was one time she needed to relinquish control.
20
Every cop’s nightmare is walking into a crime scene where a loved one lays waiting, dead, but this proved beyond anything anyone on the force could have ever imagined. Due to the horror of the scene, Jorge Pena, first detective on site, stood like a gatekeeper, preventing Qui and JZ from entering the death room. “What’s this American doing here?” he demanded of Qui.
“He’s with me. I asked him here.”
“This is official police business, Mr. Zayas. You’ll have to wait outside. In fact, take Detective Aguilera with you. My calling her was a mistake.”
“But I’m here now, so get out of my way, Pena.”
Pena muttered, “Damn it…I shoulda waited ’til this was cleaned up.” Turning to Qui, he continued, “You don’t want to see this. Believe me.” He remained a veritable wall to her progress. “Zayas, take her out. Now!”
“Outta my way, dammit.”
Smelling blood in the air, and sensing this was one colleague trying to protect another, JZ placed a hand on her shoulder and suggested, “Perhaps Pena’s right.”
She shrugged away from JZ’s touch and began shoving Pena.
Grabbing her more roughly than intended, Pena said, “Qui, for once, trust me! You don’t wanna remember Estaban this way.”
“Let me go!” She struggled to free herself from Pena, but he held firm.
Looking over her shoulder at Zayas, Pena repeated, “Get her out of here!” Then Pena froze, a sharp pain in his gut made him look down. It was that damned blue gun of hers.
Seething with anger, she hissed, “For the last time, move!”
He immediately stepped aside, no longer barring her entrance.
Unable to see the weapon, JZ was unaware of the unfolding drama between the two. When Pena stepped aside, JZ saw the horrifying scene at the same moment Qui did. Appalled, he could only imagine Qui’s shock.