Read Online Until Noon by Desiree Holt, Cerise DeLand - Free Book Online

let it stand. She had never made a secret of her dislike for them or the way they operated.
    Nor did Raul argue with her. If he had latent negative feelings about the corrupt
    Russian oligarchs controlling the flow of oil to Western Europe, she could only applaud him. And since he didn’t question her, she would do him the same honor.
    They took Raul’s SUV to the Roca refinery, situated in the harbor of Barcelona. As
    they walked from the parking lot to the offices a stiff wind blew in across the water.
    Pilar huddled deeper into her coat, staring out across the wind-whipped waves. The
    wind had whipped the water into whitecaps, rippling beneath the sun. Far out in the
    bay, islands rose as if they’d erupted from the ocean floor. There wasn’t much green
    about them that she could see, just boulders and rocks and crags of all sizes, and here and there a massive house.
    Who on earth would live out there in such a bleak environment? The owners of Roca perhaps?
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    Until Noon
    But then Raul was opening the door to the lobby for her and she wiped the islands
    from her mind. They took the elevator up to the top floor of an ultra-modern building, glass, steel and sunshine shining down on the expanse of the harbor of Barcelona.
    Just as they stepped off the elevator, she got a beep on her cell phone. “Wait, Raul. I have to take this. It is my associate from last night who, as one might say, took out our trash.”
    “ Sí , Manuel, what is it?” she asked her forensics specialist in the local EU office.
    What he said had her halting in her tracks. “Repeat that, please. You are certain? And his passport?”
    When she clicked off, she stared at Raul. Shivers ran up her spine at the news her
    colleague had given her.
    “Want to share the wealth?” Raul asked her.
    “He has an identification on the man who attacked us last night.”
    “The one you so carefully stabbed?”
    “He is no gypsy. No homeless man. But an employee of a Russian export-import
    company out of Genoa.”
    “What’s he doing in Barcelona?”
    She arched both brows. “Good question. Manuel asked but our friend is not
    answering. He speaks only to request his lawyer.”
    “A smart thug, the worst kind,” Raul mourned.
    “Right, but hear this. The export-import company is owned by a conglomerate that
    also owns an oil company.”
    Raul grinned. “Now we are getting somewhere. What’s the name of it?”
    “He didn’t say, but he’s pulling down all the information about it that he can and
    sending a file to me on my computer.”
    “Terrific.” Raul took her arm. “Let’s hear what Señor Tafoya has to tell us in the meantime.”
    Augustin Tafoya wasn’t a tall man but he had an imposing presence. Everything
    about him spoke of power and control. He had a thick head of black hair liberally laced with silver and Pilar was sure for the cost of his suit, she could have fed a Catalan family of four for a month. But he had an impeccable reputation and was considered
    one of the most knowledgeable people in the European oil industry.
    “Sit down, please.” He greeted them cordially but there were lines of tension in his
    face. “Thank you for coming.” He sat behind his desk, shaking his head. “Terrible
    business about Tony.”
    “Yes, it is.” Raul sat in one of the chairs facing him, Pilar took the other, noting that Tafoya focused more on Raul than her. If the man assumed that he could favor Raul in
    this interview, he had another think coming. “He and Adam Molloy were friends for a
    long time and Adam’s after blood for his murder.”
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    Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand
    “I can understand it. Well.” Tafoya leaned his elbows on his desk and tented his
    fingers. “I have copies of his reports for you, Señor Cordona.”
    “And one for me, as well, I do hope,” Pilar put in, her gaze level on Tafoya’s.
    “Forgive me, sí ,” He tipped his head in deference to her, then pressed a button on his intercom. In quick Spanish, he