Secret Paradise (Kimani Romance) by Dara Girard

the staff might have helped her?”
    “There’s no other way. The security system is stellar. The way she was able to make the place go up in flames took skill and cunning. She knew the layout of the entire house and had to have the time to set things up for the house to explode the way it did. Someone hid her and helped her into the house.”
    “You think someone else wanted revenge?”
    “No, I think Alana used someone who didn’t know what she was really planning to do. After the fire most of the staff left and those who returned have been loyal for years. We can vouch for everyone. I’m sure whoever helped her is long gone.”
    “You say she was Ghanaian?” Nikki asked.
    “Yes. Why?”
    “Yesterday I found a beautiful head wrap in one of the rooms I was in.” Nikki described it for him.
    “Yes,” Callia said, excited. “I saw it too. It looked just like the family colors.”
    Basilio frowned. “That’s strange.”
    “Family colors?” Nikki said, picking up on Callia’s words.
    “Our father was from a royal family in Ghana and that particular pattern you described represents our lineage, but after he disappeared nearly twenty years ago, we haven’t had much to do with that side of the family,” Basilio explained. “I think that’s why Alana was able to captivate Lucian so much. Deep inside he was still desperate to connect to that part of his heritage. I think she used that against him.”
    “Have you been to Ghana?”
    “Once,” Basilio said with a careless twist of his wrist. “Lucian’s several years older than me, so he remembers it and our father more than I do. We never lived there but I remember one visit we took to see family. I admit I’m not that interested in going back. Our parents met as university students in Canada. They were both foreign students—she from Greece and he from Ghana. He was working on his Ph.D. in civil engineering, while our mother was completing her master’s in archeology. They fell in love, moved to the United States and settled in Oregon. Dad traveled a lot. Then one day he didn’t come back. When he left, Lucian and I took our mother’s surname and nicknames. I was originally christened Basil. Mom preferred Basilio and so do I.”
    “What about Lucian?”
    “I think Dad used to call him Lucas. My mother was always correcting him. ‘It’s Lucian, not Lucas. He was named in honor of my grandfather,’ she’d tell him. I’m not sure how much he listened. Anyway, my mother’s family is enough for me. We have lots of relatives on that side. All I remember was that our father disappeared like a puff of smoke. Then one day our mother told us he was dead. I was too young to remember much, but for Lucian…it hurt him. I remember my father being a serious man who used to stay to himself. I don’t remember ever sitting on his lap, or him being part of any of our family gatherings.
    “But after he left, my mother remarried, and that’s the man who I considered to be my father. By then Lucian was already out of the house, making money and doing his best to forget him. There’s no reminder of our Ghanaian roots anywhere in his home. Lucian doesn’t want to remember Dad or Alana. So it’s unusual that you should have found that piece of material out of nowhere.”
    “So you don’t think your father’s disappearance was suspicious?”
    “No. Fathers leave.”
    “I think there might be a connection,” Callia said.
    “And you have a wild imagination,” Basilio said. “You think that all Ghanaians know each other?”
    “No, I just—”
    “What’s done is done. What happened was unfortunate, but my brother is safe now. It was just a crazy woman out for revenge, nothing more. Whoever helped her probably thought she wanted to reconcile with my brother or something. I’m sure it was a harmless mistake. Alana could be very persuasive.”
    “Where were you when this happened?” Nikki asked.
    Basilio hesitated. “I was away. Lucian sent me to the