LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Sit,” his father ordered, pointing to his old favored chair.

      When Tony didn’t jump at his command, Enrique sighed heavily and muttered under his breath in Spanish. “Have a seat,” he continued in his native tongue. “We need to talk, mi hijo.”

      They did, and Tony had to admit he was curious—concerned—about his father’s health. Knowing might not have brought him home sooner, but now that he was here, he couldn’t ignore the gaunt angles and sallow pallor. “How sick are you really?” Tony continued in Spanish, having spoken both languages equally once they’d left San Rinaldo. “No sugar coating it. I deserve the truth.”

      “And you would have heard it earlier if you had returned when I first requested.”

      His father had never requested anything in his life. The stubborn old cuss had been willing to die alone rather than actually admit how ill he was.

      Of course Antonio had been just as stubborn about ignoring the demands to show his face on the island. “I am here now.”

      “You and your brothers have stirred up trouble.” A great big I told you so was packed into that statement.

      “Do you have insights as to how this leaked? How did that reporter identify Duarte?” His middle brother wasn’t exactly a social guy.

      “Nobody knows, but my people are still looking into it. I thought you would be the one to expose us,” his father said wryly. “You always were the impetuous one. Yet you’ve behaved decisively and wisely. You have protected those close to you. Well done.”

      “I am past needing your approval, but I thank you for your help.”

      “Fair enough, and I’m well aware that you would not have accepted that help if Shannon Crawford was not involved. I would be glad to see one of my sons settled and married before I die.”

      His gut pitched much like a boat tossed by a wave. “Your illness is that bad?” An uneasy silence settled, his father’s rattling breaths growing louder and louder. “Should I call a nurse?”

      Or his assistant? He wasn’t sure what Alys Reyes de la Cortez was doing here, but she was definitely different from the older staff of San Rinaldo natives Enrique normally hired.

      “I may be old and sick, but I don’t need to be tucked into bed like a child.” His chin tipped.

      “I’m not here to fight with you.”

      “Of course not. You’re here for my help.”

      And he had the feeling his father wasn’t going to let him forget it. They’d never gotten along well and apparently that hadn’t changed. He started to rise. “If that’s all then, I will turn in.”

      “Wait.” His father polished his eighteen-karat gold pocket watch with his thumb. “My assistance comes at a price.”

      Shocked at the calculating tone, Tony sank back into his chair. “You can’t be serious.”

      “I am. Completely.”

      He should have suspected and prepared himself. “What do you want?”

      “I want you to stay for the month while you wait for the new safety measures to be implemented.”

      “Here? That’s all?” He made it sound offhand but already he could feel the claustrophobia wrap around his throat and tighten. The Dali art mocked him with just how slippery time could be, a life that ended in a flash or a moment that extended forever.

      “Is it so strange I want to see what kind of man you have matured into?”

      Given Enrique had expected Tony to break their cover, he must not have had high expectations for his youngest son. And that pissed him off. “If I don’t agree? You’ll do what? Feed Shannon and her son to the lions?”

      “Her son can stay. I would never sacrifice a child’s safety. The mother will have to go.”

      He couldn’t be serious. Tony studied his father for some sign Enrique was bluffing…but the old guy didn’t have a “tell.” And his father hadn’t hesitated to trust his own wife’s safety to others. What would stop him from sending Shannon off with a guard and a good-luck wish?

      “She would never leave without her child.” Like his mother. Tony restrained a wince.

      “That is not my problem. Are you truly that unwilling to spend a month here?”

      “What if the restraining order comes through sooner?”

      “I would ask you to stay as a thanks for my assistance. I have risked a lot for you in granting her access to the island.”

      True enough, or so it would feel to Enrique with his near agoraphobic need to stay isolated from the world.

      “And there are no other conditions?”

      A salt and pepper eyebrow arched. “Do you want a contract?”

      “Do you? If Shannon decides to leave by the weekend, I could simply go, too. What’s the worst you can do? Cut me out of the will?” He hadn’t taken a penny of his father’s money.

      “You always were the most amusing of my sons. I have missed that.”

      “I’m not laughing.”

      His father’s smile faded and he tucked the watch into a pocket, chain jingling to a rest. “Your word is sufficient. You may not want any part of me and my little world here, but you are a Medina. You are my son. Your honor is not in question.”

      “Fair enough. If you’re willing to accept my word, then a month it is.” Now that the decision was made, he wondered why his father had chosen that length of time. “What’s your prognosis?”

      “My liver is failing,” Enrique said simply without any hint of self-pity. “Because of the living conditions when I was on the run, I caught hepatitis. It has taken a toll over the years.”

      Thinking back, Tony tried to remember if his father had been sick when they’d reunited in South America before relocating to the island…but he only recalled his father being coolly determined. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

      “You were a child. You did not need to be informed of everything.”

      He hadn’t been told much of anything in those days, but even if he had, he wasn’t sure he would have heard. His grief for his mother had been deep and dark. That, he remembered well. “How much longer do you have?”

      “I am not going to kick off in the next thirty days.”

      “That isn’t what I meant.”

      “I know.” His father smiled, creases digging deep. “I have a sense of humor, too.”

      What had his father been like before this place? Before the coup? Tony would never know because time was melting away like images in the Dali paintings on the wall.

      While he had some memories of his mother from that time, he had almost none of his father until Enrique had met up with them in South America. The strongest memory he had of Enrique in San Rinaldo? When his father gathered his family to discuss the evacuation plan. Enrique had pressed his pocket watch into Tony’s hands and promised to reclaim it. But even at five, Tony had known his father was saying goodbye for what could have been the last time. Now, Enrique wanted him back to say goodbye for the last time again.

      How damned ironic. He’d brought Shannon to this place because she needed him. And now he could only think of how much he needed to be with her.

       Seven

      Where was Tony?

      The next day after lunch, Shannon stood alone

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