Chapter 36 Daniela
DANIELA
I slam the door to the mother-in-law suite.
The frame rattles. The wall shakes. My breath does, too.
Footsteps.
Then knocking.
I open the door.
Raven stands there. “Hey. Are you okay, Dani?”
I fall into her. Tears start again. “We fought,” I choke. “Hawk and I. He’s… He’s going rogue, Raven. I’m scared. Anyone he thinks might be behind the gifts? He goes after them. Evidence or not.”
Raven eases me to the loveseat while keeping her arm around me. “That doesn’t sound like Hawk.” She lifts her eyebrows. “That sounds like Eagle. Or Falcon, if it’s for Savannah. Hawk’s the cool head. He doesn’t blow up.”
“He did today.” I sniff hard. “He must think he’s invincible.”
“Or,” she says softly, “he’s in love with you.”
I let out a caustic laugh. “We haven’t been together that long. You can’t call it love. Right now I’m not even sure I like him.” I wince. “No offense to your brother.”
Raven laughs. “I sometimes hate my brothers. But I always love them. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.” She stands, tugging me up with her. “Come over to the main house. It’s almost dinnertime. You need food. Belinda will be thrilled. Robin’s coming, too.”
I wipe my face with my sleeve. “Okay.”
We cross through the hallway door and head into the kitchen. I inhale. Butter and thyme. What has Phyllis prepared? She’s sliding something from a sheet pan. Roasted carrots. Yum. I inhale again. Roast chicken with sage.
Belinda barrels in before the plates hit the table. Her feet are bare, which is odd. She flings herself at me. “Dani!”
My heart loosens. “There you are.” I crouch to her height. “How was the sleepover?”
“Epic.” She’s already talking fast. “Gwen C. has a bunk bed with a slide. We’re kind of too big for that, but it was fun anyway. We had pillow fights and we did makeup and we watched movies and had cheese balls and—”
“Cheese balls,” Raven says, rolling her eyes. “Bee, I think you could live on cheese balls.”
“Cheese balls are elite cuisine,” I say solemnly.
Belinda grins. “I even let Gwen play my piano app on my phone and she stinks at ‘Für Elise’ but I didn’t laugh. I was nice.”
Raven leans on the island. “I had to sit her at the real piano to get a practice in. I had to encourage her. That never happens.”
“I’m glad,” I say, meaning it so much it stings. “I mean, piano is important. You should always foster your talent. But I also want you to have friends.”
“Me too,” she says, shrugging like it’s nothing and everything. “Are you eating with us?”
“I am.”
The door opens. Vinnie’s voice from the foyer. “Smells like Phyllis’s chicken.” He inhales. “Perfection.”
Robin comes in with him, cheeks flushed from the heat, a bottle of something cold in her hand. She sees me and drops her purse to hug me tight. “You okay?”
“I will be.” I pull back. “Hi.”
We sit. The food is as good as it looks. I taste, nod, taste again. Eating is difficult when so much is nagging at me, but sustenance is sustenance. We all need it to survive.
Our conversation is mundane until dinner is finished and Belinda leaves the table to do her homework.
Vinnie waits until Phyllis serves coffee. “Okay. I have some news.”
My heart skips and my nerves jump. News. Not good news. I lay my fork down and brace myself. “What is it?”
“The chocolates.” He lifts a brow at me. “Toxicology ran them. All of them.”
My stomach tightens. “And?”
“Nothing.” He points with coffee spoon. “No toxins. No poisons. No funny business. Perfectly safe to eat.”
I blink. “But the note. It said one had ‘a special surprise.’”
“I know,” he says. “It was probably a scare tactic.”
“Then it worked.”
He nods. “Seems like it. I’m so sorry about all of this.”
I sit back. “So…no poison.”
“No poison.” Vinnie sips his coffee. “We should push on other suspects. People you—” He stops abruptly. Then, “People who were around you in Colombia. Marco Ramirez. Dietrich Klein. Isabella Valentini.”
“Diego Vega,” Robin says, voice low.
Vinnie shakes his head immediately. “Vega is dead.”
Robin doesn’t yield. “I’ve been thinking about that. It could all be a ruse.”
“He’s dead,” Vinnie says. “I’ve seen photos.”
“So have I.” Robin doesn’t budge. “And I also know about the barn.” She swallows, glances at Raven. “About Falcon and Eagle. Ray told me. She felt bad I was the one sibling who didn’t know.”
Raven nods, unapologetic. “I was done pretending that wasn’t part of our story.”
Robin looks back to Vinnie. “They thought that man was Diego Vega. He wasn’t. Vega turned up alive in Colombia later. So what if these photos are also wrong? What if the corpse is a fake? What if someone wants us off his tail?”
Vinnie leans in. “Unlike three traumatized teenagers, I don’t make mistakes on ID. Not like that.”
Robin rolls her eyes. “Falcon wasn’t a teenager. He was twenty-two. And Hawk had never seen him before. But Eagle had, and he wouldn’t make that kind of mistake.”
“I believe you about Vega,” I say to Vinnie, because I do. “And I think looking at the others might be a waste.”
Vinnie tilts his head. “Why?”
“Because the chocolates are the thing.” I sit forward.
“There’s a culinary element here. Today in class, Chef Charleston lectured about chocolate and how it differs by region.
Cocoa percentages. Texture. Mouthfeel. If one of those chocolates is different—different origin, different fat content, different nose—he’ll see it.
Maybe that’s the ‘special surprise.’ Not poison. A clue.”
No one responds.
Robin’s forehead is wrinkled. She gets what I’m saying. Vinnie’s brow is furrowed. He gets it, but he has doubts. Raven has excused herself for a moment.
“That makes sense.” Robin turns to Vinnie. “Admit it. That’s smart.”
Vinnie’s mouth curves. “It’s not dumb.” He rises, leaves the kitchen for a moment, and returns with a zip bag. “But chocolate? Really?” He sighs. “Then again, we have to follow every lead. I only took a portion of each piece. The rest is intact. I figured you’d want them back.”
A shiver runs along my spine. “Thank you.”
“Don’t eat them,” Vinnie says dryly.
“I won’t. I’ll take them to Chef Charleston tomorrow and ask him to analyze them.”
“Careful what you share,” Vinnie says. “Keep the talk in the kitchen. Not the hallway.”
“I know. I won’t tell him why I’m asking. I’ll make something up.”
Raven returns and gets caught up on the conversation. She turns to me. “Are you going to be able to sleep?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly.
“We’ve got chamomile,” she offers. “And an old movie.”
“Maybe.”
Robin sighs. “I’m worried about you. And about Hawk. I’m afraid he’s going off the rails, which is unlike him.”
“I told him to stop,” I say.
“And?”
“And he heard me,” I say. “But hearing and listening are different verbs.”
“Mmm.”
Robin clearly wants to say something. Something about Hawk. Something about me. But she keeps her mouth shut. For now, at least. I appreciate it. I don’t want to cause family turmoil. Hawk needs his brothers and sisters.
Vinnie wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Tomorrow I’ll keep digging on Ramirez, Klein, and Valentini.
But maybe Dani’s right. Maybe the chocolates are where we start.
Let’s see what her chef has to say. And then we can look at the other gifts, see if there’s some sort of other clue.
Maybe the card wasn’t a threat after all. ”
“What the hell else could it be?” Raven demands.
“Anything,” he says. “A map, maybe.”
“A map?” Raven shakes her head. “Come on, Vinnie.”
“Baby,” he says, “trust me on this. I saw things while I was on the run that would make your head spin, and when I returned, I saw things from my own grandfather that made those other things look like child’s play.
These people leave clues. Some in plain sight, and others you have to dig for.
As weird as it seems, the chocolate might be a clue.
I know I didn’t think so at first, but now that I think about it, my gut is telling me that Dani may be onto something. ”
After we’ve all had enough coffee, Vinnie retires to his office, and Raven goes to help Phyllis in the kitchen. Robin waylays me on my way back to my place.
“Are you sure about trusting Vinnie on Vega?”
“Yes.”
She nods. “I love Vinnie. He’s a great guy and is going to make a great husband to Raven, but something doesn’t sit right with me. I’m glad you trust him, but call me if you don’t want to sleep alone.”
“I’m okay.”
“Sure.” She gives me a quick hug and then heads toward the doorway.
I head back to my suite and set the bag of chocolates on my kitchen counter like I’m placing evidence. I go to the bedroom, wash my face, change into lounging pants and a soft tank. Then I return to the kitchen, grab the bag of chocolates, and set it on my night table.
I sit on my bed and stare at it as if it will answer all my questions.
You didn’t poison me.
So what are you?
I picture Chef Charleston. The way he broke down chocolate types. Belgian. Swiss. Mexican. Latin American. American. African. Fat content, temper, mouthfeel.
Maybe only one is an imposter. Maybe the imposter is the point.
A chill goes through me again.
This might be it.
I pick up the bag and slip it into the mini-fridge next to the other side of my bed. I text Chef Charleston.
Do you have time before class tomorrow to meet? I need a quick consult on chocolate variance for an independent project.
He texts back within a minute.
Certainly. Happy to help. Come a half hour before class. I’ll be in my office.
I text a thumbs up, and then I lie back. Stare at the ceiling. Breathe in. Out. In again.
Love is not a permit.
Protection is not a prison.
Chocolate is not poison.
Except when it is.
If I’m right, this is the first clean clue we’ll have. And if I’m wrong…
Hawk will continue to chase ghosts, and I’ll have to live with that.
I’ll have to live with my fear of losing him.
I’ll fix it all. I’ll find my stalker and I’ll save Hawk. I’ll do it because I love him. Because he deserves better.
I turn off the lamp.
And for the first time today, my resolve is heavier than my fear.