Knowing Vera (Romantic Suspense, Family Drama) (Chance for Love) (24 page)

“Exactly what I’m thinking.” I fish for a notepad from my purse. “My father’s off the list. He thought my uncle did it and covered for him. But my uncle doesn’t have blue eyes and both Felipe and Zach’s father have blue eyes.”

Owen walks with his hands behind his back, his head lowered. “There’s one thing that bother’s me.”

“What’s that?”

He taps his head. “I reviewed the transcript of your recording. In it, Felipe said the killer dropped the knife at your feet, but you said the killer stabbed your bear, Bing-Bing.”

“So?”

“This is significant. Think.” He rubs the mustache he’s growing.

That’s Owen again. The next thing out of his mouth is going to be about the little grey cells.

“I have no idea.” I spy my parents walking around the fountain, hand in hand.

“It’s obvious.” His bright blue eyes shimmer with self-satisfaction. “To stab the bear, the killer had to have touched it. Grabbed it, like he did the ball. You say he threw the ball. It probably landed somewhere in the greenhouse, and he was able to clean it or dispose of it, but the bear!”

“What about the bear?” I play the role of innocent ingénue to his Inspector Columbo.

“He made a mistake. You see? He touched the bear and left his fingerprints or his blood. But then you took the bear. He had to get that bear back, how?”

“Stop quizzing me and tell me.” I cross my arms. He’s channeling Hercule Poirot, egg-shaped head included, but I’ll go along with it. Let him figure it out, including all the dramatics.

“He follows you and your father. He doesn’t know where you’re going, but he has to get that bear. When he sees the drama on the bridge, he stops his car. You’re holding onto your father, the bear’s paw clenched in your hand. He grabs you from your father and takes the bear from you.”

“Okay … so why is the bear sitting on my bookcase with a video camera in his belly?”

“Big mistake. The killer’s son hears about this bear, how it belonged to little Vera. The son thinks it’s funny to plant the bear on your bookcase.”

“Who? Cliff or Zach?”

“You already know.” Owen stops under a willow tree. “Who was at your mother’s house recently? Who texted you to bring your bear to the bridge?”

And who’s into hidden cameras?

“Cliff!”

Owen nods slowly. “I’m going to speak to him, with the detective’s permission. He’s behind all of this. From the fake postcards to the text messages, the YouTube posts mentioning Bing-Bing. I’m betting his father told him everything, every detail except one.”

Owen pauses to allow me to ask, “Which one?” even though I know by now.

“That he was the killer. If Cliff is Mrs. Spencer’s son, which I’m 99% sure he is, then Cliff would inherit the properties from Lillian Spencer’s estate. But in order to get the property away from Zach’s father, they have to prove he committed murder, since a murderer can’t benefit from his crime. Which is where you come in.”

“You’re right.” I clasp my cheeks. “Cliff’s father, Felipe, wanted me to pin it on Zach’s father, then when I balked, he called me a double crosser. He killed Mrs. Spencer because she gave their child away for adoption.”

“Right, which means Cliff was disinherited.” Owen points to his head again. “I figured it all out. Let’s see how long it takes the detective to retrace all the steps my little grey cells have already taken.”

Relief bathes me with a sheen of sweat. Cliff is
not
Tito Louie’s son. He’s not my half-brother, but unfortunately still Zach’s.

“I have to tell Zach.” My fingers are tingling. It’ll give me an excuse to talk to him.

“You sure you want to tell him about his mother?” Owen places an arm around my shoulder. “You still care about him, don’t you?”

“Yes. I’ll always care for him.” I disengage from Owen.

“Ah, your parents are coming,” he says, looking toward the street. “I’m glad your father and uncle are innocent. Talk to you later.”

He waves to my parents and walks to his car. I run toward my father and mother and throw myself into their arms. “I love you two, so much.”

“You know everything? Do you forgive us?” Papa says. So much love beams from his face, love for both me and my mother.

“I do, now I know it’s better not to have secrets.” It’s a bitter lesson to learn after losing Zach. If he loves me without truly knowing me, it’s not me he loves but an illusion.

After seeing my parents to their car, I take a long walk and sit under a tree overlooking a small pond. Ducks dip happily in the reeds, and tiny birds flitter and sing. I’m so drained I feel like I’m floating outside of my body. I’m almost happy. My parents love each other. My family is innocent of murder. But Zach. Would he give me another chance?

There’s only one thing to do. Cliff had forwarded the dirty picture to me before leaving for Australia. Maybe he sent it to Zach, too. Maybe not. But it doesn’t matter. I have to come clean.

I bring up Zach’s contact and send the picture to him with a message:
No more secrets. When a Filipina gives you her heart, it’s forever.

The Embarcadero is blustery, as usual. Lucas gestures for Maryanne and me to follow him to Pier 39, one of the most visited destinations in San Francisco. He has Emma tight and snuggly in a front baby carrier, and I bet he has a surprise for Maryanne. This is their first Valentine’s Day together as a couple, and February 14 was supposed to be Emma’s due date. Even though she was severely premature she’s caught up and is weaning off tube feeding, which makes it easier for Maryanne to go on outings.

Sure enough, we stop at a chocolate shop.

“Buy both you girls something,” Lucas says and snuggles the baby. “But you, little Emma, you’ll have to wait. I meant your mother and Tia Vera.”

“Oh, don’t. I’m not your Valentine.” I’m just the third wheel with no prospect of a Valentine, ever.

“I insist.” He drags me and Maryanne, one with each arm, and propels us through the doorway.

“Hey, he’s treating, go for it.” Maryanne points to the counter. Heady, dark, and velvety scents drift from the samples and freshly baked goods. She leafs through the gourmet display. “San Francisco, Zurich, Chicago, Brussels or Paris?”

All I have is Australia on my mind and a certain Aussie with dirty blond hair and the bluest eyes this side of the bay. I’m drawn to a piece of chocolate shaped like a boomerang with the Southern Cross stamped on the wrapper. Not long ago, I had lain in his arms while he showed me the constellations: the pointer stars, the heart of the Milky Way, and how to trace a line to the South Pole.

He never replied to my text message—not that I really expected him to. Oh, I hoped, like all women hope, but this chocolate bar would be as close as I’ll ever get to Zach Spencer. Maryanne and Lucas chitchat in the next aisle. She’s wheedling him about two boxes and joking about all the shades of chocolate from white to milk to dark.

“Something I can help you with, luv?” A deep honeyed voice vibrates close to my ear, and a set of cowboy boots appear in my field of vision. My heart and stomach fight to see how many butterflies they can expel, but I keep calm outwardly.

“I was wondering how genuine this chocolate is.” I show him the boomerang-shaped bar. “Is it true blue Aussie, or imitation?”

“As true and as blue as my eyes.” Zach grins that half-cocked panty-vaporizing smile. “When an Aussie gives you his boomerang, it’s forever. No secret.”

Tears of joy seal the jagged cracks in my heart and I float into his arms. He sweeps me up and places me on the counter, right in front of all the tourists and kisses me hard, deep, and throbbing.

People whip out their cell phones and gesture toward us.

Zach turns to the gathering crowd and says, “Who’s going to help me? I’m about to stake my claim.”

The crowd cheers, “Go, go, go, go.”

“Zach, what are you doing?” I hide my face behind the boomerang bar, hardly able to breathe.

He grins and blows me a kiss. The man behind the counter gives Zach a large globe, dark blue in a golden stand with all the continents upside-down. Each country is a precious stone: jade, lapis, mother of pearl, turquoise, agate, onyx and jaspers of all colors. Antarctica is white quartz and lies on top.

“My world for your heart, darling.” He takes my hand and turns past Australia, moving my finger toward the equator to a cluster of shiny gems. “The best place on earth.”

The entire Philippine archipelago glitters and sparkles, large and small stones shooting shafts of multicolored light. Diamonds.

“Pull out the biggest island,” he says.

“My ring!” It slides out of a specially made slot.

Zach drops to his knees and the brightest, most electrifying set of blue eyes embrace me with out-of-this-world adoration. “Marry me, Vera, mine. And please, don’t embarrass me in front of all these people.”

“Say yes, say yes, say yes,” voices around me chant.

I let Zach slip the ring on my finger and hold up my hand. When I open my mouth to speak, the silence in the shop is like a collectively held breath.

“Yes, I will.” Staring deep into the blue pools of his eyes, I sing “Bakit Labis Kitang Mahal (Why do I Love You So Much?).”

One year later, Spencer Island, Australia

The tin shed is surrounded by fluffy waves of tussock grass. Zach drops his loaded backpack and cracks open the screen door. He pulls out two new camp cots and places them on the shady side of the hut.

I let the diaper bag slide from my shoulder and unwrap Lilibeth from the Snugli baby carrier. Her little fists are tight, and her mouth is making sucking motions.

“I know, sweetie. Mummy was seasick and you missed your feeding.”

Her big brown eyes engage with mine as I unbutton my nursing blouse. Oh, what the heck. I’m on a deserted island, so I peel the whole thing off and let her latch on. Her eyes close contently and soon, she’s suckling and making tiny cooing sounds.

Zach drags out a two-man tent and works on setting it up. He and my brothers came yesterday and stocked the hut with camping supplies, ensuring Zach and I will celebrate our anniversary in luxury and style.

Warm and cozy feelings flood me as I nurse my daughter. Nothing has prepared me for the tides of love and closeness this little one brings. From her dark brown curls, to her blushing cheeks, to her tiny rosebud mouth, she is cuteness from head to toe.

A lusty yowl has Zach rising to his feet and unbuckling his baby carrier. “Hey, your son’s hungry, too.”

“Bring him over.” I raise one arm toward my sweet little guy. His twin sister’s pretty much emptied my left breast, but I’ve got one more.

Zach trades babies with me and wrinkles his nose. I get the feeding, and he gets the changing. Pretty fair deal, if you ask me. He kisses Lilibeth’s nose and burps her while I turn to my other side and put Ry in position.

“You have any kisses left for me?” I feign a pout after he’s done with the diaper change.

He shoves the soiled one in a garbage bag that we’ll remove from the island and gives me a teasing kiss, one promising upcoming delights.

Ry’s not a quiet nurser. He’s grunting and slurping and upset that the milk isn’t squirting fast enough. His face is beet red, and he clenches his fists and kicks as if he’s fighting me. Unlike Lilibeth, he’s bald with faint traces of blond fuzz and has grey-blue eyes. Somehow down the line I must have gotten a blue-eyed gene, maybe from one of my Spanish ancestors. However, his coloring favors my side, a golden tan compared to Lilibeth’s milky white.

Zach kneels at the side of the cot and embraces us in one swoop, making sure to shower me with more kisses.

“Think we’ll take this bunch to the cove tonight?”

I want to say he’s crazy or scold him for his recklessness but in the year we’ve been married, I’ve learned to relax and trust him. Unwilling to stress his healthy knee, Zach has given up running and biking in favor of long distance swimming. His race and Olympic event, if he qualifies for the 2016 team, is a ten-kilometer swim through the Atlantic Ocean along the lovely Copacabana Beach, 6.2 miles dealing with currents, seaweed, even jellyfish and other sea creatures. Zach has been training in Port Phillip Bay half of the year and San Francisco Bay the other half; hence, it’s always summer for our family.

“I’m looking forward to it.” I linger on an open-mouthed kiss. Lilibeth squeals and wriggles, wanting her father’s attention. I rub her downy hair and tickle her. At a little over three months old, she’s definitely more social than her brother. Her eyes flit between mine and Zach’s, and she smiles while babbling and gurgling, every movement dainty.

Zach ruffles my hair and scoops a giggling Lilibeth into his muscular arms. “I’m taking her swimming.”

He has a waterproof swimming prosthesis, which also allows him to walk on it. Of course, he can’t wear it while racing, since the fin is seen as an unfair advantage.

“Okay, don’t be too long. Me and the little guy, we’ll take a nap.” I yawn and stretch in the shade on the cot. Ry unlatches with a loud burp and falls asleep before his head hits the canvas. Men!

***

That night, we tuck the twins into a covered raft, and Zach drags them to the cove while I swim at their side. It’s hard to believe that a year ago, we married on this island. It turns out Zach’s family owns this piece of rock and all the goats on it. We did marry again in Manila to satisfy our families and church, but this is where I had first pledged my heart to him.

Detective Harper concluded Cliff’s father, Felipe, committed the murder. One of his duties at the greenhouse was to spray the pesticides, and he wore rubber gloves and protective gear to do the job. After my father escaped, Felipe tracked him to Australia, bringing his son, who he’d kidnapped from the adoptive parents. Thankfully the DNA results confirmed Felipe had fathered Cliff. It would have been totally creepy if Cliff had flirted with me, knowing he was my half-brother.

Cliff is in an Australian jail convicted of kidnapping, extortion and other crimes. He had planted tracking software on my phone as well as Zach’s and hacked into Zach’s bank accounts. He also bribed Vic and Tom who worked in Zach’s father’s fishing fleet to cast suspicion on the Spencers. Apparently the redhead who caused all the trouble was part of the gang. She was caught playing online games with Vic while Tom drove to the marina the night my brothers and I were kidnapped.

It turns out Dex and Ben had not been beaten and hospitalized as Cliff claimed. They spent the time imprisoned in a warehouse forced to listen to Cliff’s buddies’ screamo band. Ugh, a torture worse than death.

Cliff was also behind sending the fake notecards from Mrs. Spencer, having the redhead mail them from Australia while he texted me, pretending to be my father. Being Tito Louie’s friend, he pumped information from him to make the messages appear authentic.

But my father had his ways, too. He wooed my mother under a screen name and followed my singing videos on YouTube. He admitted to being Tatay and my mother’s online boyfriend. Of course, Mama felt guilty about it, as if she’d been cheating, but she let it slide that my father actually had another family. She told me true love doesn’t keep tabs.

After the investigation concluded, my parents remarried and retired to Batangas in the Philippines. My father turned Ping Crest Winery over to me, Dex, and Ben. They work the wine and grape growing side, while I participate in marketing, benefit concerts, and otherwise enjoy my share of the profits. But mostly, I take care of my two babies. Lilibeth and Ry were born October 22, 2014.

Sadly, Tito Louie passed on before his grandchildren were born, but he sat in on the five-month ultrasound. I was able to lead him to Christ on his deathbed, and he’s looking forward to the day we meet again.

The tide laps the sandbar as we float through the arch. I help Zach push the raft onto the fine, powdery sand. I pick up Ry, and he flashes me a wide-mouthed, crooked grin, his arms and legs wiggling nonstop. Zach cuddles Lilibeth, but she’s fast asleep. He carefully places the raft well above the waterline and tucks her in, making sure she’s cozy.

“I’m afraid this visit won’t be as exciting as it was a year ago,” Zach says. He pulls me into his lap and kisses the hollow of my neck. His hands slide appreciatively over the contours of my body as he wraps his legs around me.

“At least they’re still young enough for us to swim naked,” I reply. “Let me put our boy away. He’s nodding off.”

I arrange Ry next his sister, his tiny snores blowing her hair with each breath. Zach feathers his hands around my waist. Gently, he slides me into the moonlit pool and trails kisses up and down.

“How did I get so lucky?” I moan, enthralled by his undivided attention. “That you’d love me so.”

Dripping wet, he leans his forehead against mine. “It’s because I know you, Vera.”

“Knowing you, Zach, is loving you.” My lips sweep over his, and we join, fitted together perfectly.

THE END

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Knowing Vera.
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