—Come in—he said, hoping to see Elena with her tea or her dinner.
But it wasn’t Elena who went in.
The door opened, revealing Don Enrique, the head gardener. The man removed his soaked hat with trembling, calloused hands. It left a trail of water on the Persian rug, something that would normally have infuriated Lucas, but the expression on the old gardener’s face stopped him.
Enrique’s eyes were red. And in his right hand, he clutched something wrapped in a plastic sandwich bag.
“Excuse me, boss,” said Enrique, his voice hoarse, laden with a fear that Lucas had never heard from him in 20 years of service. “I know I shouldn’t come in here like this, all wet and dirty.”
“What’s wrong, Enrique?” Lucas put the glass down on the table. “Did the basement flood?”
“No, sir.” Enrique took a step forward. His rubber boots squeaked. “It’s about the girl. About Maya.”
Lucas sighed, irritated.
“I don’t want to talk about her now, Enrique. Elena already told me what she did. She broke my mother’s vase and then had the nerve to lie.”
“No, sir,” Enrique said, interrupting him. Nobody interrupted Lucas Sandoval. Nobody. “She didn’t lie.”
Lucas became tense.
—Be careful what you say, Enrique. Elena saw her.
“Mrs. Elena saw what she wanted you to see,” Enrique said, raising his hand with the plastic bag. “But I saw what really happened. And this little thing here… saw it too.”
Lucas looked at the bag. Inside was a black USB drive.
-What’s that?
“A month ago, boss, you asked me to check why the light bulbs in this hallway were burning out so often. I set up a small test camera to see if it was an electrical problem or if rats were chewing through the wires.” Enrique swallowed, staring at the door as if expecting Elena to walk in with a knife. “Mrs. Elena didn’t know I was there. Nobody knew. Only me.”
Lucas stood up slowly.
—And what did that camera record?
Enrique approached and placed the USB drive on the mahogany desk, as if he were planting a bomb.
“He recorded the truth, boss. He recorded who broke that vase. And I swear to you on my holy mother it wasn’t Maya.”
The silence in the room grew heavy, suffocating. Lucas looked at the small device. Then he looked at Enrique.
—You’re wasting my time…
“Look at him,” said Enrique, with tears in his eyes. “Look at him and then tell me if that girl deserves to be out there, bleeding in the mud, while the real culprit sleeps warm in her bed.”
Lucas picked up the USB drive. It was warm to the touch, warmed by the gardener’s hand.
“Go home, Enrique,” Lucas said, without taking his eyes off the device.