Chapter Thirteen
With his father’s trip to Cuba set to happen the next day, Rake decided that it was time for a family dinner. He’d wish his father a safe trip and also try to pry more information from him on why he was going. Since his stepmother had shared her concerns about his father, he had in turn been worrying that Ernesto might somehow be the Sin Sombra that the Pinkertons were chasing. He wondered if the real reason Ernesto was heading to Cuba was to avoid the Pinkertons breathing down his neck. It had become impossible to rid himself of the fear that stuck with him about his father.
No matter how difficult their relationship could be at times, he still loved him and cared about his well-being.
He, Lucia, Sondra, and Ernesto were all gathered around the table in his suite while one of the hotel servants served the first dish of the elegant ten-course meal he’d planned with the hotel chef.
The servant placed the hors d’oeuvres plate with caviar on brown bread before them. While he disliked caviar, it was one of his father’s favorites.
“Won’t Penelope be joining us?” Sondra asked, earning a glare from Rake.
“Penelope is no longer a part of this family,” he said curtly, but he had no sooner said that when the door to the suite burst open and Penelope sauntered in.
“I heard we were having a family dinner,” she said with a charming smile and walked over to greet everyone except Rake. She shot him a challenging look, as if daring him to toss her out.
While he had no desire to spend the evening with Penelope, he was too much of a gentleman to make a scene. Especially in front of his father, Sondra, and Lucia.
“Please, join us,” he said through gritted teeth and gestured to the empty chair beside Lucia, seating her as far away from him as possible.
Dinner resumed, and Lucia started the conversation again. “This is delicious, Rake. Thank you so much for thinking of having this dinner to wish Father a safe trip.”
“Yes, thank you, Son,” his father added, although it sounded too reluctant to Rake.
“My pleasure, Father. So tell us what you plan for your trip,” he said, hoping to draw information out of Ernesto.
As the servant removed the plates and placed the second course of a beef consommé on the table, Ernesto explained his plan. “Cuba is stabilizing, and Havana and the nearby coastline are only ninety miles away. It’s a perfect time to see if Varadero Beach has the potential for a new Solvino hotel. It’s been too long since we built one.”
“The Regal Sol is only a few years old,” Rake said, earning a tut-tut from his father.
“This is your hotel, Rake. And quite frankly, I’m still not convinced that it will prove to be profitable in the long run,” Ernesto said.
Maybe this dinner was a big mistake, Rake thought but bit his tongue.
As the vol-au-vents came out, Penelope said, “Actually from what I can see, the Regal Sol has quite a lot of potential. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was profitable soon.”
The support from his soon-to-be ex-wife was unexpected. He wasn’t sure what game she was playing, but it was nice to have someone else deflect his father’s condemnation.
It actually restored his hunger and let him enjoy the warm savory pastries, which had two different fillings, a hearty beef and mushroom mix in one and a creamy crab mix in the other.
“The Regal Sol is quite lovely. I’m sure that in time it will hold its own,” Sondra said, likewise surprising him. Until of course, she added, “It’s just the kind of place to appeal to tourists.”
Lucia coughed uneasily, drawing his attention. She shared a supportive look with him and said, “Didn’t the Astors stay here a few weeks ago? Mr. Deering, also?”
“You’re quite right, Lucia. High society seems to think the Regal Sol is just their cup of tea,” Penelope said, shocking him yet again.
A disbelieving grunt erupted from his father, and the meal went downhill from there despite a lovely offering of courses from the kitchen and a constant stream of support from Penelope and Lucia.
Cold poached salmon with a rich velouté spiked with herbs.
Roast beef with farm-fresh green beans.
A beautifully seared duck breast accompanied by a wine demiglace.
Wonderfully ripe French cheeses on a fine china serving tray and a hearty port in his best lead crystal came out next.
And finally, thankfully since he couldn’t wait for the dinner to end, delicate lemon ices that were nowhere as chilly as the silent freeze that had settled over the room.
When the dessert dishes were cleared away, they almost simultaneously jumped to their feet, obviously intending to forgo the traditional coffee and liqueurs that had been prepared for them in the front parlor of Rake’s suite.
At the door, Rake hugged his sister warmly and whispered in her ear, “Thank you, Lucia.”
Ernesto was next, and he held out his hand stiffly. “Father. Safe travels.” He hadn’t learned much tonight about what his father was truly doing, but he intended to find out. His father had hired his own captain for the trip on Rake’s yacht, but Rake intended to have some of his own men on the crew to watch what was happening.
Rumor had it that Sin Sombra was bringing in a huge load of contraband shortly, and if that load was coming in with his father on Rake’s yacht, he intended to know.
When Sondra came to the door, she shared a knowing look with him, seeming to say that Rake had better keep a close eye on his father.
Last to leave was Penelope. She strolled to the door slowly, obviously waiting to have her moment alone with him.
“I should thank you,” he said because she had been in his corner during the meal.
With a soft laugh and a smile, she said, “Yes, you should. When I heard you were having your family for dinner, I thought I should come. I remembered how difficult it could be with your father and that woman.”
“Thank you for tonight. Dinner with my family is never easy,” Rake said.
“Then why put yourself through it?” she asked.
With a shrug, he opened up to her the way he once had when they were together, explaining to her his concerns about his father. She listened patiently, but then shook her head. “It’s not your father you have to worry about. If I were you, I’d keep an eye on Sondra.”
“Really?” His stepmother had been notably more pleasant since sharing her concerns about Ernesto with Rake.
“Trust me, Rake. I know her type, and she’s nothing but trouble. Have you seen the way she’s been kissing up to your sister the last few weeks?”
Her intuitiveness and concern surprised him. “Well, Lucia and Sondra were schoolmates and have always been close.” Perhaps unusually close, he thought but kept that to himself.
“I’m telling you. She’s definitely up to something.”
He smiled at her vehemence, remembering how much he’d liked her staunch confidence in her own opinions once upon a time. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
An awkward silence followed until Penelope said, “Well, it’s late. I should go.”
“Good night, Penelope. Thank you again for everything.” With a chaste kiss on her cheek, he ushered her out the door, shut it, and leaned back against it, the weight of all that was happening dragging on him. His father. Sin Sombra. Penelope. Josephine.
Josephine, Josephine, Josephine, he repeated, using it as a mantra that lightened his soul from the darkness that was his family.
Just this week, she had started to show and he wished he could lay his hands on her belly and feel the child. His child. A miracle. Since the doctors had told him years earlier that he was likely sterile, he had given up hope of having children and put all his energies into the Regal Sol and proving to his father that he had what it took to run the Solvino business empire.
Tonight had been enlightening in many ways. He could always count on Lucia’s support, but Penelope’s defense had been surprising. It had also helped him to realize that his father was impossible to please, and so he was done trying to please him. With that decision, something freed up inside him and he knew it was time to focus on more important ventures.
He had something he had never thought he would have: a child. And then there was Josephine. A wonderful and amazing woman.
It was time to grow and build the life he’d already created for himself here in Miami. Time to make the hotel profitable, put an end to his less scrupulous enterprises, and stop worrying about his father’s approval.
But what if his father was involved in illegal activities once again, or worse. What if Ernesto was the deadly and dangerous Sin Sombra?
Well, he had his family to protect. If Ernesto was the crime boss, Rake would do whatever it took to keep the Regal Sol and Josephine safe from Sin Sombra.
In the lavish suite that Ronaldo had politely demanded, Josephine sat across from the entertainer—her father—as he ate the steak and eggs breakfast he’d likewise courteously demanded.
She nibbled on some dry toast and sipped the tea that seemed to be the best protection against the morning sickness that still plagued her well into her fourth month of pregnancy.
“Please tell me about yourself, Josephine,” he asked, which surprised her since for the last half an hour, he’d talked about nothing but himself and the many shows and cities he’d visited since leaving Zara twenty-some-odd years earlier.
“Well, I work here at the hotel,” she said.
“Obviously,” he said with a dramatic circle of his knife.
“I’ve finished some correspondence classes, and Sister Elizabeth was attempting to secure me a position as a tutor with a nice family only…”
She hesitated, not sure just what to tell her father about her life. A life he had not been a part of ever. But at his theatrically raised brow, she pressed forward.
“That’s proved impossible since I’m with child.”
Ronaldo stopped chewing and eyed her carefully. “I wasn’t sure.”
She rose and held her skirts tight to herself to mold the fabric to her rapidly growing belly. “You weren’t sure?” she asked, dubious.
With a dramatic flare of his hand, he said, “A gentleman such as myself would never assume that or make a woman feel that she might be, well…looking particularly plump, should we say? Not that you are, by the way. You look quite ravishing, brimming with the glow of new life, like a finely sculpted Madonna one might find on a golden pedestal in the pope’s grandest basilica.”
Not sure he was serious, she examined him carefully, but as his clear-eyed and wide gaze settled on her, she realized he truly was serious. He might be a little self-centered, but he had a childlike honesty about him. She was learning that he said what he thought without hesitation or dissembling.
“Thank you,” she said and sat back down.
“May I ask who is the father? Of course, I plan on making sure that he is doing the right thing by you,” he said with assuredness.
“Like you did?” she responded with a bit of smartness and regretted it instantly as sadness slipped over his very expressive features. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t judge you since I really don’t know you.”
With a poised and stately nod, he said, “That is something I hope we can rectify in the next several weeks. And trust me that if I had known about you, I would not have stayed away.”
Surprisingly she believed him. When he asked about the father again, she said, “It’s a complicated situation.”
At the subtle arch of his brow, she continued. “Rake Solvino, the Regal Sol’s owner, is the father, but I’m engaged to a Pinkerton detective—Martin Cadden.”
The arched brow shot ever higher, forcing her to try to explain—no, justify—what she had done. “I saw Martin with a woman, and I was angry. Hurt. Rake was suddenly there, and he was so charming, and there was champagne…” The words spilled from her as she retold the story of that life-changing night. Well, most of the story, since she kept the more intimate details to herself.
“And both men still want a place in your life?” he asked after his shocked silence faded.
“Yes, they do. But Martin thinks Rake is this mysterious crime boss, and well, Rake isn’t too fond of Martin and his insinuations. And Rake dared me to be brave, and I find myself attracted to him, but Martin is the man who has always had my heart.”
Eyes opened wide again, he said, “A triangle that’s quite more sensational than any drama I’ve been lucky to play. But as the Bard himself wrote: All’s well that ends well.”
Josephine wished she could be that optimistic, but it still all felt way too complicated and uncertain.
Ronaldo must have sensed her upset. He reached out, took both of her hands in his, and in a booming voice, said, “Do not worry, Josephine. I am here now, and I will make sure that both of these men do right by you. Never fear.”
So this was what it was like to have a father, she thought suddenly. Josephine realized that Ronaldo really did want to try to make things right and not just with Rake and Martin. She truly believed he had not known about her and was determined to remedy that situation. And she wanted to get to know him. Despite his demands and drama, there was something endearing and charming about the man.
As they sat there and finished breakfast, she realized she was looking forward to the next few months that the troupe would be performing at the Regal Sol. She had wished for a father so many times as a child. One who was kind and gentle and would read stories to her like her abuela had. One who she could tuck herself against for a good cry like she did with Zara.
Alberta and Zara had always been there to fill the void of not having her father, but despite their best efforts, she had always felt his absence. But Ronaldo, dramatic, extroverted, and flamboyant Ronaldo, was nothing like what she had imagined as a father.
Sitting there, listening to his stories, sharing her own, and thinking about his behavior over the last few weeks, it occurred to her that he was a man with a big ego, but with a bigger heart. He was kind and caring. Determined to make up for his absence and to be a part of her future. She imagined that he would be patient and playful with her daughter and take great pleasure in being a grandfather.
He was in another word—imperfect—but in a delightfully entertaining way. She was looking forward to having her father in her life and was hopeful that he and Zara would maybe find their way back to each other.
Josephine might be pleased, but would Zara be so enthusiastic at having her former lover in their lives once again? And what about Alberta? Could she reconcile the fact that her favorite entertainer had been the one to crush her precious daughter’s flower? This is just like a telenovela!
Another load of illegal liquor had made it into the North Miami saloons. Worse, word on the street was that a load of cocaine had likewise made an appearance. While not technically illegal, there were many pushing for it to be outlawed because of its dangers.
Conveniently, the appearance of the contraband happened just around the time that Rake Solvino’s father returned from a trip to Cuba, Martin thought. Convenient because it seemed to turn the direction of the Sin Sombra investigation away from Rake being the criminal mastermind and toward his father. But that didn’t mean that Rake wasn’t assisting his father in his nefarious activities. His hope was that if they cut off the head of the snake, the rest of the syndicate would die off.
“I know you don’t want it to match up, but it does, Martin,” Nita said as she stepped back to look at the chalkboard where they had laid out the timelines of the various murders and events against the presence of the two men in both Palm Beach and Miami.
Martin hated that Nita might be right. He had no doubt that Rake was up to something illegal, and it worried him that a man like that might be in Josephine’s life—and his—on a more permanent basis. In his heart of hearts, he truly believed that Rake was Sin Sombra and he had been determined to prove it, but he was also a man who dealt in facts. The facts written in chalk on the board before him said that Rake might not be the crime boss, except for one thing.
He rose and gestured to one gap in the timeline where Rake was present in Miami and his father had still been in Palm Beach. A gap that also coincided with Richard Slayton’s murder. “If Ernesto Solvino is Sin Sombra, how do we account for this?”
“You’re grasping at straws, Martin,” Nita said with an exasperated sigh.
“But the gap is there, Nita. You can’t deny it,” he urged and stepped back to look at the chalkboard and review all the details again. “The timeline fits him better, and he has more reason to do it. He’s had to lay off people at the hotel because he’s in a financial bind. What better way to get the money than by selling illegal liquor and drugs?”
Nita came to stand beside him and narrowed her gaze. “The drugs are a new element. That bothers me, Martin.”
It bothered him also. It was a big diversion from the crime boss’s original dealings unless… “What if it isn’t new?”
Nita shot him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Rake charmed Mrs. Tuttle into giving him a license to sell alcohol. So he brings in more than he can use at the Regal Sol and sells the rest to willing buyers, but how much can he make that way? Is it enough to keep the hotel afloat?”
“Or enough to kill for?” Nita added, catching on to what he was suggesting. “How could we have missed something like that?”
He hated to say it, but maybe because he’d been so fixated on one thing—proving Rake was Sin Sombra—he might have lost sight of the bigger picture.
“When the mayor came to us, he was worried about the liquor and prostitutes and all the violence. We’ve managed to curb some of that activity, but not all. Maybe the reason is that we’ve all been focused on the alcohol when there’s something more dangerous going on.”
“And you think Rake Solvino is behind it?” Nita asked.
Martin just pointed to the gap in the timeline and the latest murder. A victim connected to the Regal Sol at a time when Ernesto Solvino was in Palm Beach. No words were necessary to convey to his partner who he thought was behind the murder.