Nate shook his head. “I’m not sure. We’re missing something. Maybe we’re looking at it from the wrong angle.”
“Well, I, for one, think we should take advantage of this opportunity. Javier and Lila are distracted, and Chloe isn’t going to let him off the hook until we’re sure about what he’s hiding. We have no access to Remy’s room, but we do have access to Javier’s. See where I’m going with this?” They all nodded agreement with EV’s suggestion.
“Let’s do it.”
Chapter 17
Dalton nudged open the door to the hallway and stayed close to listen in case Javier and Lila circled back to the suite unexpectedly, while EV, Nate, and Chloe picked carefully through Javier’s belongings. If he was, indeed, planning on ripping Lila off, maybe this was a preemptive strike designed to throw suspicion onto some unknown party.
“Nothing here, just clothes. This guy is seriously organized; even his underpants are perfectly folded. I’ve never seen such an OCD suitcase.” EV unzipped a garment bag next, discovering nothing but an exquisite suit accompanied by a perfectly accented tie and pocket square matching Lila’s designer wedding gown.
Chloe rifled through the bedside tables, but quickly abandoned the empty drawers; Javier hadn’t bothered to unpack. She checked the matching dresser with no luck.
“Hey, I think I found something!”
* * *
Around the corner toward where the corridor dead-ended, Remy waited while Dalton stood outside the door like a palace guard. He’d have to go back inside eventuall,y and there was no reason for him to come this direction, but if there was one thing Remy Vincent loved, it was instant gratification. Waiting for anything he really wanted chafed at him like ants crawling over his skin. Now he was stuck on the wrong end of the hallway; to get back to his room, he needed to pass the spot where Dalton stood.
He pulled his head back. Stupid Burnsoll. No sense of personal awareness at all. Remy knew he would feel eyes on him if someone watched him the way he was watching Dalton now. Must make one lousy cop.
“I’ll take that.” Dalton’s voice echoed toward Remy, who risked another look just in time to see a member of the staff hand over what Remy had come here to find: a carefully wrapped sheaf of dry cleaning. Nostrils flaring, Remy stepped back to wait until the hallway was clear. This was not turning out to be his day. Not at all.
* * *
Nate bent over a brown leather satchel, running a finger over a set of initials tooled into the surface. “JR. Javier Rosales. This is definitely his, and it looks well-used. It’s something he’s carried for a long time. Perfect place to keep valuables.” Nate opened the bag and began to rifle through the contents while the others watched. Dalton stepped away from his post by the door to get a closer look.
A tattered photograph fluttered to the floor and landed face down. EV picked it up and read aloud what was written in script across the back. “Javier Rosales and Tomas Delarosa. 1995.” She turned the photo over and stared into the face of a thirty-something Javier, his arm resting on the shoulder of another tanned, good-looking man who must have been in his early twenties.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nate and Dalton shared an incredulous look; this wasn’t the first time they had heard the name Tomas Delarosa. “What are the odds?” The two men shared a look as something clicked.
“Will you please tell me what the hell is going on here?” Chloe screeched, her nerves shot and her patience reaching its end.
“Tomas Delarosa was one of the names we found in connection with Remy Vincent. I think you might have been right all along, Chloe. If Javier is mixed up with Remy, your mother is in big trouble.”
The sound of throat clearing behind them interrupted the series of open mouth looks being exchanged. As one, the four of them whirled guiltily.
Javier stood in the doorway blocking Lila from the room. The photo in Chloe’s hand and the look on her face told him it was time to come clean. With everyone. His hand speared through his hair in an uncharacteristic gesture, leaving it ruffled and messy. Behind him, Lila gave a nudge, then stood on tiptoe to peer around him in order to see what was holding him up.
Grudgingly, Javier moved into the room. “That’s my brother Tomas.” He reached out to gently take the photo from Chloe’s hand. “Come, Lila, sit here with me. I need to tell you some things.” Deep regret colored the words. Not regret for having to finally tell the whole story, but for keeping any of it from her to begin with. She knew most, but not all.
“A year and a half ago, my brother, Tomas, was the victim of identity theft. In the computer age, this is a common occurrence all over the world. At first, we assumed that freezing his accounts and getting new documents would be enough to protect him. But it was not. The thief created an elaborate network of stolen identities, while leaving a false trail of evidence that pointed straight to my brother. I’m sure you all know by now that the actual culprit was Remy Vincent.”
“I don’t understand, the name we found in connection with Remy was Tomas Delarosa. Not Tomas Rosales.” Scorn was rife in the words Chloe flung at him and she noted the frown that her words brought to Lila’s face. Apparently Javier had not told her mother the entire story.
“Tomas is my stair brother—” he paused to think, “step is
