The Villa

enough by the fact that until a couple of months ago you lived a country apart. Added to the fact that my father had been living openly with another woman for several years, a few dinner dates is very small potatoes."
    "I'm sure they're covering all angles."
    "Do they suspect you or Mama?"
    "I'd say they suspect everyone. It's part of their job description. You've been careful not to comment, to me in any case, on how you feel about my relationship with your mother."
    "I haven't decided how I feel about it, precisely. When I do, I'll let you know."
    "Fair enough," he said equably. "I know how I feel about it, so I'll tell you. I care very much about Pilar. I don't intend to cause her trouble or upset. I'd be sorry to cause you any, either, first because she loves you and second because I like you. But I was just in the position of choosing between causing you both some upset or having my kids interrogated and doing nothing to stop the investigation from wandering down a dead end."
    She wanted to sit down now. Something told her she'd need to. Because of it, pride kept her on her feet. "What did you tell the police that's going to upset me?"
    Truth, he thought, like medicine, was better given in one fast dose. "Your father had been embezzling from the company for several years. The amounts were spread out, and relatively moderate, which is one reason they went undetected as long as they did."
    The color drained out of her face, but she didn't flinch. Didn't flinch even as the fist of betrayal slammed hard into her heart. "There's no mistake?" she began, then waved him off before he could answer. "No, of course there isn't.
    You wouldn't make one." There was a light lick of bitterness in the statement. She couldn't stop it. "How long have you known?"
    "I confirmed it the day of the party. I intended to meet with your father within the next couple of days to discuss—"
    "To fire him," she corrected.
    "To ask for his resignation. As per your grandparents' instructions. I reported the embezzlement to them the day after the party. He would have been given the opportunity to pay back the funds and resign. They did that for you—for your mother, too, for the company, but mostly for you. I'm sorry."
    She nodded, turning away as she rubbed her hands over her arms. "Yes, of course. I appreciate your being honest with me now."
    "Sophia—
    "Please, don't." She closed in as he stepped forward. "Don't apologize again. I'm not going to fall apart. I already knew he was a thief. I saw one of my mother's heirloom brooches on Rene's lapel. It was to come to me, so I know my mother didn't give it to him. I knew when I saw her wearing it, on her widow's black, that he'd stolen it. Not that he'd have thought of it that way. Any more than he'd have thought of the money he siphoned from the company as stealing. Pilar, he'd think, has so many trinkets. She wouldn't mind. The company, he'd tell himself, can afford to lend me a bit more capital. Yes, he was a champ at rationalizing his pathetic behavior."
    "If you'd rather go home than attend the meeting, I can make your excuses."
    "I have no intention of missing the meeting." She turned back. "Isn't it odd? I knew what he did to Mama all those years—I saw it for myself. But I managed to forgive him, or to tell myself it was just what he was, and make it, if not all right, somehow marginally acceptable. Now he's stolen money and jewelry, so much less important than stealing a person's dignity and self-respect as he did with my mother. But it took this for me to face fully that he was worthless as a human being. It took this for me to stop bleeding for him. I wonder why that is? Well, I'll see you at the meeting."
    "Take a few minutes."
    "No. He's already had more of my time than he was entitled to."
    Yes, he thought as she walked out of his office. Very much like her grandmother.
     
    Since it was Sophia's turn to drive, Tyler rode back from the city in silence. Unless, he thought, you counted the blast of the radio. He'd turned it down twice, only to have her snap the volume back up again. Departmental meetings gave him a headache and so did the opera currently screaming out of the speakers, but he decided to let it go. It certainly prevented any pretext of conversation.
    She didn't look to be in the mood for conversation. He wasn't sure just what she looked in the mood for, but it sure as hell wasn't talk.
    She drove too fast, but he'd gotten used to that. And even with whatever storm