“Quote me?” Gina stopped what she was doing and put her hands on her wide hips. “Are you doing a story on her?”
He sighed. “No. Probably not. I think I told her I wouldn’t.”
“You think?” Gina laughed and continued her rapid movements through the kitchen.
“Do you know about her confession, Gina?” Ruben waited for a lively response, and she didn’t disappoint.
“I swear to God, Ruby, you don’t know when to stop. Who did you brow-beat or bribe to tell you about that? Because the detectives are not going public with that information.”
“Zia told me.”
“Please. Let’s not get attached to some whacko name, Ruby.” She spun around and scowled at him. “You’re not attached in any way, are you? What is this about?”
Ruben sat back down on the stool and fiddled with the celery stick. “Look, I just want to make sure she gets what she needs. Did you put her in touch with a lawyer?”
“She doesn’t need a lawyer, Ruben. As of right now, there’s no indication she did anything. Her brains are scrambled. End of story. In a couple of days she’ll remember she’s married to some plastic surgeon in Tucson who’s been crazy with worry.”
Gina paused and crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Look, she probably got pissed at him because he wouldn’t let her buy new patio furniture or something and she needed to blow off some steam, get away for a couple of days. Things like that happen.”
“Then where’s the missing person report?” Ruben waved the celery around. “Where is the doting husband and why isn’t he searching high and low for her? If she were my wife, every cop in the country would know she was missing. I’d be plastering her face on every cable news network on earth, twenty-four-seven. It doesn’t make sense.”
Gina narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m going to be real blunt here, kiddo,” she said. “If you dare put me in any one of your articles I’ll sic my geese on you. Are we clear about this?”
Ruben laughed and nodded. “I won’t quote you, Gina. I don’t even know if I’m going to write a story, or if there’s anything worth writing.”
“Oh I think there’s news here all right,” Gina said, smiling.
“Yeah?”
“The news is that Ruben Jaramillo’s falling for a woman who doesn’t even know her own name.”
He threw the celery at her and she nabbed it in mid-air. “Tell me I’m wrong.” She threw it back at him.
“You’re wrong,” Ruben said, laughing. “God, Gina, go easy on me. I’ve had a rough day.”
“You don’t get enough sleep.” Gina turned to the stove and drained the pasta pot, steam rising around her head. “You need a solid eight hours a night, which means you should be in should be in bed by, well, right about now. Go tell Pookie to wash up, would you?”
Ruben nodded and popped up from the stool. He turned to her in the kitchen archway. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“That’s all you ever do, Ruby. Spit it out.”
“I’d like her to stay with me instead of going to the shelter.”
Gina nearly dropped the steaming colander of spaghetti. “What?”
“Until she figures out who she is. I mean, if she’s not charged with anything and if she’s an adult, then why can’t she decide where she wants to be? Why can’t she stay with a friend?”
“Are you are her friend, Ruby?” Gina’s eyebrows raised in a challenge. “Or are you the workaholic police reporter who’d sell his grandmother for a good story?”
“I’m her friend.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m both.”
“As her case manager, I will strongly advise her not to accept your invitation.” She slammed the colander down on the tile countertop. “She needs to be somewhere where there’s support, Ruby, someone to talk to whenever her memories start popping up. She needs a shoulder to cry on.”
“I can do that.”
Gina stared at him in disbelief. “You don’t the training for that, let alone the time.”
“I’ll take time off.”
“What?” Gina laughed incredulously. “Please, Ruby. You have no idea what you’re doing. This is an extremely bad idea.”
“But I’m the only friend she has. Besides, you’ll be right across the road if she needs you.”
Gina rolled her eyes. “Oh, thanks. That’s just what I need—desperate clients with all-day access to me at home.”
Ruben shot her a charming smile. “Don’t worry, Gina. I won’t take advantage of you – or her. I just want to help her get her memory back.”
Gina laughed loudly at him. “Honey, I think the amnesia is now the least of the poor girl’s problems. Go get Pookie so we can eat.”
After dinner, Ruben decided he’d try an experiment. He’d pretend he’d never been to Pura Vida before and this was his first walk across the road, down the driveway, and into the courtyard.
In the dark, in the shadows, the adobe house looked Quaint, run-down, but charmingly so. Sure, the bright blue paint was peeling a bit on the window sashes and the privacy fence had its share of jagged holes. The dead branches and leaves should be swept off the courtyard and the stack of firewood out front should be tidied up. The windows were dirty, and the ristras hanging from the porch roof looked a bit desiccated, the red peppers now gray from time and exposure. He’d throw them out and get new ones.
Then he opened the front door and took an objective look at the inside of his home.
Maybe the shelter wouldn’t be such a bad place after all.
Chapter 4
Thursday, March 16
“You’re what?” Suzie Gilligan nearly screamed into the phone.
“After the home edition deadline, I’m taking the rest of the day off. I’m really tired.”
Silence.
“Suz?”
“If I’m not mistaken, this will be the first sick day you’ve ever taken, is that correct?”
“Yeah, except that it’s not even a sick day. I started my shift at four and I’m going home at one like I’m supposed to. I’ve just never done it before.”
“Is it Olivia?” Suzie’s voice was a shocked whisper.
“Olivia? What are you talking about? No!” Ruben rolled his chair over to the door of his office and slammed it shut with his foot. The sump pump fumes immediately began to build. “I’m just worn out. I was up all night cleaning my house.”
Suzie laughed so loudly that Ruben had to pull the phone away to protect his hearing.
“I’m serious.”
She laughed even harder.
“Forget it.” He flipped through his notes. “Okay, so today I’ve got about ten column inches on the poultry farm truck that overturned on the Coronado Expressway – chicken nuggets everywhere, if you get my drift. I got another ten on the downtown stabbing, and about eight on the suspect in last week’s bomb threat.”
“I saw your juvenile crime wrap-up piece,” Suzie said, now quite sober. “It had a couple holes in it.”
“Tell me about it.” Ruben dropped his elbow to the desk and cradled his forehead. “Kovac’s a real piece of work, Suz. The guy has no business on the desk. I can’t stand him.”
Suzie was quiet for a moment, then lowered her voice. “You need to tell Howard your side to this,” she said. “He already knows about the argument in the newsroom, but you need to—”
“Nuh, uh. No way. I’ve got to save all my favors for the evidence project.”
“Okay. That’s your call. Enjoy your afternoon. Have anything planned?” She paused for effect. “More house cleaning maybe?”
Bad timing. Incredibly bad timing.
Ruby saw Chisolm and Salazar standing with their backs to the hospital corridor. A doctor was talking while Zia sat on the edge of the bed with Gina. This was obviously some kind of discharge conference that was none of his business.
So Ruben walked right by the doorway and pressed up against the wall to eavesdrop.
“…and that’s all good new
s.” That was the doctor, probably Zia’s neurologist.
“The only thing that concerns me is you’ve not had any recovery of memory. Everyone heals at a different rate, so we’ll just keep an eye on that. You should stay in touch with Ms. Kravitz and let the shelter staff know when your follow-up appointments are. Do you have any questions?”
Zia’s voice sounded timid. “How long for the cast?”
“About six weeks,” the doctor said.
“And what about my knee?”
“It’s just strained, so a couple more days. If it still bothers you, let your caseworker know and we’ll get you in to see an orthopedic surgeon. But we’ll know who you are by then, I’m sure, and we can get you home. Does that sound like a plan?”
There was no answer.
“I wish you the best of luck,” the doctor said. Ruben turned into the wall as the doctor squeezed past the detectives and into the hallway.
It was Salazar talking now. “…and nothing, no open cases even remotely like what you described, anywhere. So at this point, you’re free to go.”
Ruben heard some rustling sounds.
“But Ms. Kravitz promises us you’ll stay here in town until your memory comes back. Okay? If you leave town we’ll come looking for you.”
“But I thought I’m not a suspect.” Zia’s voice was angry. “Aren’t I free to go anywhere I want?”
“They just want you to stay close. It’s for your own safety,” Gina suggested. “Just try to be patient for a couple more days.”
It was Chisolm now. “You’ve got our cards, Miss. If you should remember anything else you think we need to know about, give us a call.”
Ruben nearly slammed into the detectives in his effort to pretend he’d just arrived at the door. They weren’t fooled.
“Well, lookie who it is!” Chisolm said in mock surprise. “Did you catch everything? And it’s Detective Sergeant if you don’t mind. You always get that wrong.”
“I don’t get anything wrong,” Ruben said with a smile. “Have a nice day.”
Zia and Gina caught the exchange. When Ruben turned into the room Zia looked at him, puzzled. Gina shook her head.
“What did they mean? Are you writing a story?” Zia stood up from the bed. Her hair was shiny and soft and her eyes flared at him.
Ruben’s arms and hands felt useless again, awkward and empty. What was wrong with him? Then he heard himself say the words, loud and clear: “No. I’m not writing a story about you, and I never will if you don’t give me permission. You have my word on it. No matter what happens.”
Very slowly, the confusion melted from Zia’s eyes and it was replaced by relief and affection.
Ruben wasn’t sure what he’d just bargained away, but he was pretty sure it was a good trade.
“Thank you, Ruby.”
She walked to him and put her soft lips against his cheek. She stayed there for a full second, while Ruben’s world spun around him and he forgot how to breathe.
She reached for his hand. “It’s been very nice knowing you. Gina’s taking me to the shelter, so we’ve got to go. Take care.” She squeezed his hand and turned to go, but he refused to release her.
“Wait…”
“Five minutes,” Gina said as she walked into the hall, shaking her head. “Let me know.”
He relaxed his hold on her hand a bit but Zia didn’t pull away. Her pastel blue eyes looked at him with curiosity. A faint smile curled at the corner of her lips.
“Let Gina know what?” she asked him.
“I’d like to talk with you for a minute.”
“Okay…”
Ruben kept her hand and walked with her to the edge of the hospital bed. It seemed that each time he laid eyes on her she became more lovely to him, more real, more alive. Her skin was warm against his and he stared at their joined hands.
“Would you like to come home with me instead of going to the shelter?” Ruben let his eyes travel up to meet hers, afraid of what he’d see there. Thank God it was only mild confusion.
“Go home with you? Why?”
“Zia, I don’t know how to explain this, and bear with me because I’m not sure exactly what I want to say here, but…”
“Well just say it!” She suddenly leaned down and scraped her nose back and forth across the hard surface of her cast. She looked up to see him smiling at her. “My nose itched, and you’re holding my other hand.”
“Oh.”
“Go home with you? I’m not sure if I should punch your lights out or what.”
Ruben laughed. “If you’re going to punch me, please don’t use the cast, okay?”
“Okay.”
They looked at each other for a long moment before Ruben continued. “I live outside town in a little place with a great view. There’s land around, and horses, and it’s real quiet. It might be nicer than the Salvation Army, and I was up all night cleaning in case you said yes.”
Her golden eyebrows shot way up over her eyes. “You cleaned for me?”
He nodded. “It was pretty bad.”
She let go with a big laugh and Ruben saw it again, how her face gloried in it, as if it were made for smiles and laughter and not the fear she’d carried for the last few days.
“It’s not fancy. But you can stay as long as you like and come and go as you please. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
She pulled her hand away from his abruptly to catch a tear just as it plopped over her bottom lash. She shook her head. “I would like that very much, but I don’t know you and you don’t know me. In fact, I don’t even know me! But I don’t think this is the kind of thing I would normally do.”
Ruben nodded. “I get that. I do. But these are not exactly normal circumstances, are they?”
“But why?” Zia asked. “Why do you want me to come home with you? What do you want from me?”
Ruben appreciated people who got right to the point.
“I want you to be safe. I want you to be somewhere where you won’t be scared. I feel responsible for you. If I didn’t pull out when I did, you’d be wherever it was you were going in such a hurry. You’d have your life if it weren’t for me.”
“Ruby…”
“Please. I’d like to be there when you remember who you are. I’ll make sure you get home safely.”
“But what if I’m a—?”
“Homicidal maniac?” They both laughed. “You might be anything from a Sunday school teacher to a hog farmer, but you’re not a murderer.”
She leaned forward and threw her good arm around Ruben’s neck, nearly pushing him off the edge of the hospital bed. The tears came as soon as she lay her head on his shoulder, and they soaked through his cotton shirt to dampen his skin.
This was becoming a routine with them, he noticed. He could live with that.
“I don’t think I’m a hog farmer,” she said into his chest.
He laughed and stroked her hair. God! The silken feel of it in his fingers! The pressure of her against him!
It was then that Ruben realized he didn’t care if she was a hog farmer – or a homicidal maniac. He simply didn’t give a damn.
Gina arrived in the doorway with her hands on her hips. She rolled her eyes. “I guess I’ll be seeing you two around, then,” she said. “I better call the shelter and let them know they’ve got an open bed.”
“I’m fairly sure I’ve never been in a pickup truck before.”
They were crossing the Corrales bridge over the Rio Grande north of downtown. “And I’m fairly sure I’m not from New Mexico, either.”
Ruben smiled. He’d smiled quite a bit in the last twenty minutes. In fact, he couldn’t stop smiling. Not only was she gorgeous, but she was funny, insightful and smart.
She just didn’t know her own name.
Ruben sighed. This woman must belong to some guy somewhere, and whoever he was, he was one lucky son of a bitch. He hoped he deserved her.
“How long have you been a reporter?” she asked.
> “Eight years. After I graduated from UNM I took a job at a small daily in Colorado. I came to the Star six years ago.”
“Do you like covering crime and stuff?”
“Absolutely. The hours are awful, but it keeps me hopping. You never know what each day will bring. I guess I’m the kind that gets bored easily, so it fits.”
“You’re from here, right?” Zia turned to him in the front seat.
“Yeah. I’m an Albuquerque boy.”
“Is your family still here?”
“Well, yes and no. My aunt and uncle are caretakers of a ranch west of here. It belongs to the governor. They’ve worked for him for as long as I can remember.”
“Where are your parents? Your brothers and sisters?”
Ruben smiled sadly. “My Mom and Dad were killed in a plane crash three years ago – just up the road here at the Coronado Airport. My Dad had a little Piper Cub – it was his pride and joy. I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”
Zia reached out and touched his arm. He felt the oddest combination of gentleness and energy in her touch, and that instant of contact sent a wave of heat through him. Amazing.
“I’m so sorry, Ruby.” She removed her hand and looked out the window as they drove into Corrales.
“I have a grandfather up in Taos, too, but I don’t see him much.”
“Why’s that?”
Ruben shrugged. “Not much in common since my Mom died, I guess. So do you remember anything about this road?”
Zia reached across her body and pressed her palm against the closed window. She spread her fingers wide and stared at her own hand for a moment before she answered. “Did I see this right before I wrecked?”
“You did.” They were at the traffic light near the shopping center. He watched her carefully as she stared at her own hand. It was strange the way she’d drastically turned her body from the hips like that. “So what else do you remember?”
“I remember your voice,” she said, still turned away. “You whispered something in my ear. You were so close.”
Ruben nearly shivered when she said that. His hands started to sweat. What was this woman doing to him and why was he letting her do it? What in God’s name was he doing taking her to his house? Maybe Gina had been right.
Collision Course: A Romantic Thriller Page 5