Diamond Fire. Anne Mather
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he was as tall as Alex, he was much lighter skinned. But since Grant had joined the company five years ago the two men had worked well together, and Alex knew his aunt was relieved that her son had finally found his niche in the Conti empire. Until then he had been employed in a variety of occupations, most of which Alex would have put under the heading of free-loading. Grant hadn’t wanted to work, and for six years after college he had wandered all around western Europe and the mainland, only coming home when he’d needed funds.
But five years ago he had had a change of heart, and Alex had not been averse to taking him on as his assistant. He was family, after all, and it just so happened that his former assistant had left at around the same time, creating an opening. Of course, Alex knew that several senior members of the board had had reservations about the appointment, but so far Grant hadn’t let him down. On the contrary, he seemed keen to learn everything he could about the corporation, and, as Alex was fond of his aunt, he was glad his reports were always favourable.
‘Alex,’ Grant said now, shaking his cousin’s hand and gesturing towards the couch set beneath the almost floor-to-ceiling windows. ‘Is there any news?’
Alex grimaced, and eschewed the offer of a seat. ‘I was about to ask you that,’ he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. ‘I left Morales in San Diego yesterday. I haven’t heard from him since.’
‘San Diego?’ Grant’s blue eyes widened. ‘Is that where Virginia is?’
‘I doubt it.’ Alex was laconic. He felt weary, and he didn’t honestly feel up to a long discussion. ‘My guess is she’s heading for Mexico. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.’
‘Ah.’ Grant nodded, aware of what his cousin was thinking. ‘So … can I get you a drink?’
‘No, thanks.’ Alex shook his head. ‘I just called in to tell you I’m back, and that I’ll come into the office tomorrow morning. Right now I’m going to go home and try to get some rest. I feel as though I could sleep for a week.’
‘So, why don’t you?’ exclaimed Grant swiftly. ‘There’s nothing spoiling here, and I can handle anything that comes up. With Rose and Sophy on my case I wouldn’t be allowed to make any mistakes. And you do look tired, Alex. I mean it. Take a break.’
Alex took his hands out of his pockets and walked to the door. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said, ignoring Grant’s snort of resignation. He managed to grin. ‘There are only five years between us, cugino. I’m not ready for retirement yet.’
‘OK.’ Grant raised his hands defensively, palms outwards. ‘I guess I should know better than to try to persuade you. But, just in case you do have a change of heart, I’ll be here if you need me.’
‘Thanks.’
Alex’s inclination of the head was grateful, but faintly ironic. He had the feeling that, barring a miracle, he would make it into the office the following day. Without Maria the house was so empty, and he couldn’t bear the silent sympathy in the faces of his servants. Besides, he hated the inactivity, the sense of helplessness he felt at not knowing where his daughter was, where Virginia had taken her. At least at work he could find some escape from the fears he had for her safety.
His own office offered no more reassurance. His desk, cleared of all but his personal correspondence, looked bare and unnaturally tidy. The reports and papers that usually cluttered its leather surface had been passed to someone else to deal with, and the room seemed to emphasise the emptiness he felt. Damn it, he thought, if he could lay his hands on Virginia now he’d be tempted to wring her neck.
The phone rang as he was standing by his desk, his clenched fists balled against the wood. The sound was doubly startling in the quiet room, and he pounced on the receiver, his stomach muscles clenching. Could this possibly be Virginia? Had his rage against her somehow brought her to the phone?
It was his father, and Alex sank down into the soft leather chair that abutted his desk as Vittorio Conti’s harsh tones rang in his ears.
‘Alex? E tu?’
‘ Si, Papa. ’
Alex answered in the tongue his father always used on the telephone. It was Vittorio Conti’s belief that one never knew who might be listening in to one’s call, and in a country where English was the common language there were obviously fewer people who understood Italian. That was why he insisted that his son be as fluent in that language as he was in his own, and why Alex didn’t hesitate before responding in the same way.
Now Vittorio continued, ‘I tried the house first, but Mama Lu said you still hadn’t arrived from the airport. I guessed you must have called in to speak to Grant. Is there still no news of their whereabouts?’
‘No.’ Alex was abrupt, but he couldn’t help it. The bitter disappointment he had felt upon first hearing his father’s voice and not Virginia’s still gripped him, and it was with the utmost effort that he relayed a résumé of Morales’s report to Vittorio.
‘San Diego, eh?’ His father repeated the name with a comparable note of frustration in his voice. ‘What in hell does she think she’s doing? She must know that sooner or later we’ll catch up with her.’
‘I don’t think Virginia does think. At least, not with her brain,’ said Alex wearily. ‘She just acts; on instinct, mostly. She wants something, and she goes after it. She doesn’t care who she hurts in the process.’
‘But to take Maria——’
‘Look, Papa, I’d really rather not prolong this discussion, if you don’t mind. I’m bone-tired, and I’d really like to get home. I’ll phone you and Mom later, if there’s any news. OK?’
‘OK.’ The old man seemed to sense that his son was nearing the end of his tether, and he backed off. ‘I’ll expect to hear from you later, then.’
‘Yes, later,’ said Alex gratefully. ‘Ciao, Papa. And—thanks for calling.’
Outside again, Alex breathed in deeply the cooling air of late afternoon. As the sun sank in the sky, the city streets became cool canyons of shade, and, in spite of his internal turmoil, Alex couldn’t prevent the sense of relief he felt to be back on the island. Increasingly hectic though Honolulu was becoming, it was his home, and he loved it.
Carlo didn’t do him the injustice of bothering to ask if he had learned anything new. He knew that if Alex had heard anything he would have told him, and he remained silent as his employer drove north along Kapahulu Avenue. The roads around the capital were busy with a mixture of tourists and home-going commuters, but, once beyond the city’s limits, Alex could relax. The powerful Mercedes would have eaten up the miles, but he kept it within the speed-limit. He was in no real hurry to reach home, whatever he had told his father.
He took the main highway across the southern flank of the island, and then drove north again along the coast road. The scenery here was spectacular, but although Alex saw the long golden stretches of sand, with the pale aquamarine water creaming on the shoreline, he was in no mood to appreciate them. He was remembering his daughter’s fear of her mother’s moods, and that without Mama Lu to intercede on her behalf she was vulnerable.
The Conti estate lay just beyond the Waiahole Valley, where orchids and anthurium blossoms grew in such profusion. It was a farming area, with fruit orchards and quiet meadows grazed by handsome horses, defying the hand of the developer. But Alex’s home was on the seaward side of the road, and the curving track that led from Kamehameha Highway resisted any efforts to infiltrate his privacy. Besides, at the gates to the estate he employed a very efficient security staff to ensure that no unwelcome visitor got in. The pity of it was, he thought now, that they had had no jurisdiction to prevent anyone from getting out.
A lush jungle of palms and wild hibiscus formed a natural barrier between the private road that led to the estate, and the manicured lawns beyond. Alex noticed that the white flowers had come into bloom in his absence; combined with the