Page 37 of Wicked Suspicion

“President Cardozo,” Julián said as he shook the man’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“You’re looking well, Señor Vargas.”

“Gracias, as are you and your lovely wife.” Julián tightened his arm enough to bring Nyx forward a step. “I’d like you to meet my companion, Nyx Templeton. She’s come to Puerto Jardin to do research. She works for the Paladin League.”

She forced a smile as she offered her hand. The Paladin League was a very small nonprofit. Why would Varg—Julián think Cardozo would have heard of it?

“What are you researching, Señorita?” Cardozo asked.

Before Nyx could answer, Julián replied. “She’s interested in a two-hundred-year-old legend. Perhaps you and I could meet later to discuss it.”

Nyx tried to work through how much it cost to host a seated dinner for two-hundred-and-fifty guests. This world was so far removed from hers that she didn’t have a frame of reference to guess a dollar figure.

She and Vargas had been seated at a table in the ballroom. A ballroom in a private home! They hadn’t rated high enough to sit in the dining room with Cardozo, and now they were mingling out on the patio while the space was prepared for dancing.

Var—Nyx stopped. Julián. She hated thinking of the drug lord by his first name. He wasn’t her friend. He was her captor, and he’d threatened Case. But she didn’t want to see his reaction if she slipped.

Julián chatted with the gentleman in front of them in line at the outdoor bar. While she kept tabs on what they were talking about, she was still trying to do the math for dinner. Maybe the Puerto Jardinese government paid for the meal. Or maybe it wasn’t as expensive as she thought.

She knew why she was obsessing over such a stupid detail. She didn’t want to think about Julián’s upcoming conversation with Cardozo.

It bothered her that Julián had mentioned it in context to her and the Paladin League. He was plotting something. She just didn’t know what that was.

“What would you like to drink?” Julián asked as they reached the bartender.

“Do they have limonada?” There was no way she was drinking anything alcoholic tonight.

By the time they had their glasses, people were headed back inside the mansion, and Julián indicated they should join the throng.

Nyx was tired of her brain spinning. There were so many things about tonight that she didn’t understand. When she was back at the hacienda, back with Case, she’d tell him and see if he could figure it out.

An orchestra was playing something she labeled as a waltz as they reentered the ballroom. Not an octet or a nonet. An orchestra. There had to be twenty-five musicians on the dais. Quite a few couples were dancing already, and Nyx identified one of them as the president and their hostess.

She felt out of place again. The only thing about this evening that she liked so far was that Vargas—Julián, damn it—only spoke to her when he issued orders.

They strolled the ballroom, the bodyguards in position to protect their boss. Nyx finished her drink, but before she could find somewhere to set down the glass, a waiter magically appeared and relieved her of it. The evening could have been a dream. A mansion, a party, a prime-rib dinner, an elegant evening gown, and an orchestra—who wouldn’t dream of attending such an event?

Unfortunately, it was more of a nightmare.

Julián kept them moving, but he only paused for a moment here or there if someone invited them into a conversation. She imagined this was what it was like to be a remora fish attached to a great white shark.

Her feet were starting to hurt, and she didn’t understand the point of this endless circling.

Then something changed. Julián became more alert. “Come along,” he ordered. As if she had a choice. While he seemed to be in no hurry, Nyx knew differently. It was in the tension of his body, in the barely discernable impatience she felt rolling off him.

Any boredom she felt vanished in an instant as Julián took her outside. There were few guests on this side of the house, although it was still well lit. The farther they moved from the mansion, the more uneasy Nyx became. Where was he taking her? Why?

“Um, where are we going?” Shit, she sounded as powerless as she felt.

Julián ignored her.

They were far from the party when Nyx realized they were following a man. He was ahead of them by a wide amount of space, but there was no mistaking what was happening. He led them to the pool pavilion. She dragged her feet until Julián glared down at her. “Do not anger me,” he warned her, voice nearly a hiss.

Nyx considered fighting him, but she was hampered by heels and a gown that restricted her movement. Julián had his bodyguards. She needed to bide her time and find an opening.

She followed him into the pool pavilion.

It wasn’t empty. President Cardozo and a few members of his brigade were already there. Nyx wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or if it made her situation worse.

---