Page 80 of Girl in the Water

Eduardo reached back into his pocket, palmed the capsule, then took it out, resting his hand on his thigh, waiting. One second when nobody looked was all he needed.

“I should have paid more attention to you two, but I had too much work.” The old man stared into his drink, reflecting. “All my time, all my energy I put into the business. EveryrealI made, I bought land with it. Not the rubber plantations that were going out of business already at that time. Just virgin rain forest. I’d buy as much as I could. The government was making noise about controlling its resources. Permits were needed for everything, and fees, and blasted taxes upon taxes. If you didn’t have permission, logging was no longer legal.”

“But you wanted to stay legal for your sons,” Eduardo said. How many times had the old man told them that? Always expecting gratitude, even admiration. Did he expect to be worshipped?

Had he even done it all for his sons? Or because he’d wanted to build his kingdom in the sunshine, not in the shadows. A king needed a kingdom. That had always been his fantasy: the boy from the favelas who would be king. Or, at least, the father of senators, maybe even a president.

He shook his head now. “My new friends in business didn’t understand me. They laughed at me. The land was dirt cheap. I bought as much as I could, and then I bought more.” The grin he gave was pure favela, pure hustler. “And then I gave money to politicians to crack down on illegal logging. After that, I gave them more money to make national parks of large chunks of land I couldn’t buy. It all made the lands Morais Timber owned more valuable.”

He fixed his son with a steady stare. “Leap on opportunities. And if there are no opportunities, create them.”

“Yes, Father.”

“But never forget, it’s a jungle out there.”

Eduardo resisted rolling his eyes. What did his old man know about the jungle anymore? Morais Timber had moved its executive offices to Rio decades ago. Raul Morais wanted to be closer to the place where decisions were made. He was now a wealthy man. Politicians curried his favor.

Raul was on his third wife now. The first, his sons’ mother he’d married to pull himself out of poverty. The second to gain admittance to the highest echelons of Manaus, a city that had been growing by leaps and bounds. The third, he married after moving to Rio. He needed a way into Rio society, a hostess with class and breeding who would host his parties when he entertained senators and millionaires.

Eleanora was currently in Switzerland for some kind of health treatment.

The previous wives, Raul Morais had simply discarded. The two sons he kept. He didn’t have any other children. On purpose. He had the heir and the spare—enough. He was building a kingdom. He didn’t want a bushel of offspring to fragment it into small slivers after his death.

He made his sons compete for the prize. Little did he know that they conspired behind his back.

If Marcos got back the diamonds, everything would work out. Or…if Eduardo succeeded here today…the competition would be off, and the Morais fortune equally divided between the heirs.

They had two chances. Marcos and Eduardo. One of them would succeed. Eduardo loved and trusted his brother, but he wanted to be the one.

He reached for his drink, knocked it over. “Sorry.”

He looked at Joaquim, willing the man to come and clean it up.

But Raul waved off Eduardo. “Go. I’m tired. I can’t make any decisions today.”

So Eduardo had no choice but to stand.

Joaquim walked him out. Before opening the front door for Eduardo, the man produced a bottle of water from behind his back.

“I noticed you were holding a pill, senhor.” The man’s hard gaze held Eduardo’s. “Perhaps you’d like to take it.”

Sweat popped onto Eduardo’s forehead. He cleared his throat. “Just some headache powder. But while we were talking, the headache actually got better.”

Joaquim kept his horse face expressionless. He gave a measured nod, then opened the door.

Eduardo hurried out, a cold shiver running down his spine, as if death had brushed by him.

He shook off the disturbing sensation by the time he reached his car. As he drove away, he glanced into the rearview mirror. Joaquim still stood in the door, looking after him.

Eduardo swore and slammed his fist into the steering wheel. He’s been so close. One minute, or, less than that,a few seconds, and he could have done it.

He hoped Marcos succeeded. Getting the diamonds back was their only chance.

* * *

Carmen

Carmen taped a MISSING CHILD poster onto the light pole on the sidewalk that edged the road, her daughter’s sweet, chubby face smiling at her from the picture.