Sickened he would put Miguel and her career in the same breath, Ana stood and took a step toward the door. “I was already well-known when I dated Miguel. He’s dead, and I’ll not date another matador simply for the publicity. I’ll concentrate on Galen Salazar’s work for the time being and nothing more.”
“Enjoy Mallorca,” he responded through clenched teeth.
That afternoon, a package arrived for Ana in the mail. It contained a pair of black velvet heels adorned with gold lace and braid. Sexy and feminine, they were some of the most beautiful shoes she’d ever seen. The designer’s name, Lucien Lamoreaux, was on the box, but she’d never heard of him. They fit perfectly, and she walked up and down her marble tiled entryway. “What do you think, Fatima?”
“If you ever attend a coronation, those will be the heels to wear.”
Fatima was always diplomatic with her opinions, but Ana already loved the shoes. There was no return address on the package and no letter inside. “These can’t be from Lamoreaux, or he’d have included a note saying he hoped I’d love his shoes and wear them often.”
“They must be from your shy boyfriend,” Fatima mused aloud.
“At least it isn’t anything alive, but I need to do something about this now.” She sat down still wearing the gorgeous heels and called Javier Cazares. “Libby Gunderson gave me your name. I understand you’ve done some work for Santos Aragon.”
His raspy voice was hushed as though he didn’t wish to be overheard. “I never discuss my clients, Miss Santillan. How may I help you?”
“I hope this doesn’t sound too absurd, but someone’s been sending me gifts—bouquets of roses, potted plants, chocolates, kittens, now designer shoes. I don’t know who it is, but it has to stop.”
“You’ve absolutely no idea who it might be?”
“No. There are no gift cards with anything.” She told him about the chauffeur. “He didn’t visit the same florist twice, but I do have one florist’s card.”
“Do you have security cameras where you live?”
“Yes, we do.” She gave him her address. “I’m going downstairs, Fatima. Maybe I should put the kittens in the bathroom so they won’t get out when I leave or come back.”
“I’ll do it. Just give me a minute.”
Ana changed into flats and left before the kittens could notice the open door. “Henry, I need to see the security footage when the chauffeur dropped off the roses. Can you access it?”
“Week before last, wasn’t it?”
“I should have kept better track of this, but yes, it started then.” They watched it several times, but the chauffeur’s hat and rose bouquets hid his face.
Javier Cazares soon arrived. He was a slender man who wore his gray hair slicked back. His gold-rimmed glasses and serious manner gave him a philosophy professor’s intense gaze. He stood with them at the security desk to view the images.
“You have exterior cameras. Let’s see those too,” the d
etective asked.
Henry found them. “There he is, exiting the limo.”
Ana didn’t see anything to help them. “The car in front of him blocks the plates.”
“Unfortunate. Let’s see the following day,” Cazares urged.
This time the chauffeur walked into the camera’s view, but the limo was parked down the block. “Do you think he’s gotten more cautious?” Ana asked.
“Probably, although I can’t be certain. You did have the name of one florist?”
Ana had brought the tag downstairs. “Do you suppose they have security cameras?”
“I’ll call them and ask. Let’s look at the other deliveries.”
Henry scanned the camera footage, but commercial delivery trucks had brought the potted plants and chocolates. A man driving a van with kittens painted on the side had delivered the kittens. Ana murmured softly, “Gatitos Bonitos. Maybe the owner remembers who bought them.”
They went upstairs to her apartment to make the calls. Ana opened the door carefully, but Fatima had shut the kittens in the bathroom as planned. She offered coffee, but Cazares refused politely.
He chose the floral wing chair and opened his notebook. “I never rush anyone. Often people know more than they realize.” He called the florist, but there were no security cameras there. The friendly owner remembered the white roses and speaking to Ana, but could barely recall the chauffeur who’d made the purchase.