by Lee Taylor
Cliff returns from driving the men away and shines the flashlight right at my father's feet. Then he laughs. "What's a pretty girl like you doing in a dive like this?"
"Vera?" My father peeks down at me and extends his hand. "Come on out."
His hair is white, and a smile crinkles his face. He's obviously older than I remember, but he has the same cheekbones and jutting jaw. I stare at him, my lips trembling. For so long, I had dreamed of this moment, but now, a wave of fear ices to my bone. My father--the murderer.
"Papa, I won't say anything. I promise. Let me go home." I shiver beneath the rock.
"You betrayed your father, didn't you?" Cliff accuses. "Called the police."
"No, I didn't. I swear."
"Then who were those men? Zach and his gang?"
My father's on his knees, peering into the crevice. "Hun-Hun, I won't let anyone hurt you."
My jaw quivers, and my eyes water. I want to be in his arms so badly, but he's a killer and he betrayed our family. Tears drop, and I start to sob. "You left us. Me, Mama, Rey, and Rod. You ruined Mama's life."
"Cliff," my father says, "go back to the estate and help the police. Don't use the decoy unless you have to."
"Will you be okay here?" Cliff says. "I'll leave you the gun."
"I'll be fine. My daughter will not harm me."
"Okay, I'll come back after the police leave." Cliff shoves the gun in his waistband and walks back the way he came.
I'm still crying when Cliff's footsteps depart. My father pats my head and tugs my arm. I'm sore and itchy, so I crawl out and brush off my clothes.
He helps me up. "Hun-Hun. I missed you so much."
"Papa," I tentatively touch him, unable to believe he's truly here. "I always thought you were innocent."
His body stiffens, but he doesn't reply. The silence is disturbed only by our ragged breaths and my linger sobs. How can this be? I dreamed of meeting him in heaven, of him telling me he was framed, that he wasn't guilty.
My father scratches his nose and a sniffle escapes. "I missed all of you, especially after Rod and Rey died. Tell me how you've been."
There's no need to rub in how my brothers needed a father figure, or how my mother grieved and suffered, or how I had constant nightmares. I smooth my dress as far down on my thigh as it will go. "We did the best we could. Mama's doing well. I'm sure Tito Louie's updated you."
"Actually, I haven't spoken to him. I heard he's sick. How is he?"
"Day by day. He has metastatic lung cancer."
"My dear kuya." Papa wipes his eyes. "And your mama, I still love her so much."
"How can you say that after what you put her through? You jumped off that bridge. I saw you. It's a miracle you survived."
"Actually, I didn't jump. I climbed onto the ledge and made my way down the beams underneath the bridge."
A shockwave punches my gut and has me staggering into the wall. "You brought me there to fake your suicide? How could you?"
"I'm not a good man, Vera. I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Sorry?" I raise my hands, wanting to scratch his face. "I went mute because you told me I didn't see anything. I went through years of therapy. Nightmares. I'm afraid of high places."
"I wish I could make it up to you." His shoulders stoop and he sighs. "Honestly. Ask me anything. I own this vineyard and winery. I've bought almost every property in this valley. I brought you here so you can share the inheritance."
Anger roils my belly, and I clench my fists. "With Ben and Dex? Tell me, are they my brothers? Why are you letting the poor gardener take your place? You have no honor whatsoever."
"Ben and Dex are your brothers, but their mother has gone back to China. She came with my assumed name and passport. But I swear I never stopped loving Maria, your mother, and I want to see her again, invite her to come here."
I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the cold, stone wall. "Papa, I don't want anything from you. All I want to know is why you killed Zach's mother."
"That I cannot tell you."
"Then I have nothing to say." I step in the dark toward the tunnel where Zach's friends had come.
He follows me. "Vera, don't be silly. You don't know where that tunnel leads."
"It goes to a fruit stand you let Zach's father keep." I continue walking.
"Why are you leaving? There are things you don't understand." His voice sounds weak as his steps falter.
"Then explain."
"I can't, Hun-Hun. It's not just me who's involved."
"Are you protecting someone? Papa, please, tell me."
He doesn't answer. The pathway narrows so it's easy to walk in the dark by feeling the walls on both sides.
I'm not scared anymore. My father's breathing is labored, so I walk faster--and then I hear it.
"Mr. Ping, Mr. Ping." Men shout behind me.
Oh crap! It must be trigger-happy Cliff and his posse. Their footsteps pound behind us. I stumble and bump my knee on a rock but keep moving.
"Vera," my father calls. "Come back."
"Not unless you tell me why."
"Iha, why are you turning against your family for Zach Spencer?"
"Because I--I'm in love with him." That feels strange to say aloud. Is it even true? Maybe if I shout it, he'll believe me. "I love Zach Spencer, and if you love me, you'll turn yourself in and tell the truth."
My voice echoes through the tunnel. I hurry forward, oblivious to where I'm stepping. There's light ahead. I turn a corner and thump into a man's chest.
"Vera, are you okay?" It's Zach. "Is someone after you?"
My face heats. He might have heard what I just said. Wearing a headlamp shining too brightly in my face, Zach opens his arms and hugs me. "I'm so glad I found you."
My father's voice shouts behind me. "Vera, you'll get lost in there."
Zach turns his head the way he came. "Follow me."
He limps on his prosthetic leg, but makes quick progress despite the uneven surface beneath us. I scramble after him, twisting and turning until Zach halts at a door. He pushes it open, and after we pass, he shuts it, slapping on a padlock.
"Who was that?" he asks.
"My . . . my . . . Cliff's henchmen." I cannot betray my father. Not if there's a chance he's lying about killing Zach's mother.
"I don't think they can get through this door. My father replaced the original with reinforced steel. Let's go."
We race through a storage room, and I finally see a dim light--moonlight.
"How long have I been in that cave?"
"It's just before nine," Zach says. "It took a while to get the men rounded up, and then my father locked up my leg. After they left, he let me have it back. I rushed over and met the guys running out of the tunnel, talking about gunshots."
My heart melts at his bravery. "You put yourself in danger." For me.
"You're all that's important." Zach leads me to a motorcycle, flips open the seat compartment and hands me a helmet. "Have you ever ridden?"
"No, and my dress is way too short."
His gaze slides over me, followed by his grin. "That's all right by me." He turns to the bike and pulls a jacket from the storage compartment. "It might be chilly because I only brought you a windbreaker."
"Thanks, I'm good." I set the helmet between my legs and slip the windbreaker on, covering my suddenly puckered nipples, an instant reaction to his eyes sliding over me. After zipping up the jacket, I climb onto the extended back seat and wonder how he'll manage with a prosthetic left foot. As I understand, both feet are needed for the controls. My skirt is hiked almost to my underwear, and I pull at it nervously.
"I know you're worried about me riding," Zach says with a smirk. "But my dad modified the bike for me when he first heard about my accident. I've got the gear shifter on the right and anti-lock hand-operated brakes."
"Ah . . . Zach, my hero." I throw my arms around his shoulders, catching my breath as my lips lock onto his.
"Mmm . . ." I'm drinking him i
n, all the adrenaline and excitement channeling into the fact that I'm with Zach again. He really is the man I wanted all along.
Gunshots pop from the warehouse behind us. Zach disengages from the kiss. "Put your helmet on, and let's get the hell out of here."
I've barely had time to adjust the straps, when Zach straddles the bike and turns on the ignition. He revs the engine a few cycles and kicks off. I yank his jacket, and then grab him around the waist, plastering myself into his back. The wind bites against my bare legs, and before I can get both feet into the footrests, I lose my right shoe.
The cycle swerves around a tight curve and accelerates, then crests a hill and swoops down, almost throwing my heart from my throat. My gut wrenches and I cling tighter to Zach Spencer. The wind screams above the roaring motor as if the very air were sucked from my lungs and I feel every bump juddering between my legs as I'm hurtled and tossed at suicidal speed.
If I survive this ride, will I ever see my father again?
Chapter 18
It's dark by the time Zach pulls up to a lakeside cottage surrounded by a latticed arbor full of fragrant climbing roses. A brightly colored sign reads, "Addy's Bed and Breakfast."
I take a deep breath, relieved we arrived safely. The heat of the evening has receded, and a refreshing breeze rattles through a grove of gum trees, while crickets chirp in a fast rhythm interrupted by the occasional croak of a nearby toad.
We dismount the motorcycle and remove our helmets. Zach runs his fingers through my hair and hugs me tightly. "I was so worried about you. Why did Cliff have you locked up?"
I close my eyes, casting in my mind for a plausible explanation. "He dangled the possibility that my father could be alive and said he'd keep me there until I agreed to be his girlfriend."
"You turn him down?"
"Of course." I sway in his arms. "Told you I'm a free agent."
"Hmmm . . . means I still have a chance. Did you find Tatay, or your father?"
"Turns out Tatay is Mr. Ping, and Cliff put it in his mind that I needed help jumpstarting my singing career." I cringe at the half-truth and let out a sigh.
Zach's voice is soft. "What are you going to do now?"
"Go home." I nestle into his chest, feeling guilty over my lies. I can't hurt Zach and break up with him again. Maybe distance will fade the attraction, and he'll find someone else now that he's home.
"That's probably for the best. Sorry you didn't find what you were looking for." He rubs my shoulders and kisses my cheek. "Tomorrow, we'll go to the US Consulate and report your passport missing. It might take a while to get a replacement, and you have to explain how Cliff took it from you. He didn't hurt you or do anything, did he?"
"No, not a thing." I flash back to the shower scene, but honestly, no harm done. It's not like I'm in a committed, exclusive, handcuffed, tied-and-died relationship with Zach. Even if I'm on the verge of falling utterly and completely head-over-heels for him. "Cliff was on his best behavior, playing the part of devoted suitor."
Zach's face twists and he rubs his beard shadow. "Don't gross me out. You should report him for kidnapping you. I can't believe Mr. Ping went along with it. We'll talk to the police tomorrow, and maybe they can retrieve your passport for you."
The air in my lungs freeze at the mention of the police. Had Zach or his father called in the raid at the Ping Estate? I remember Cliff and Papa talking about the gardener who was captured as a decoy.
I can't talk to the police. I just want to go home and forget I ever came on this trip. Shuddering, I turn out of Zach's embrace.
"Come on, let's meet Addy." He guides me to the door, his hand on my lower back, and then rattles the clapper of a ship's bell attached to the frame.
The front door of the inn opens, and a large red-haired woman wipes her hands on her apron. She pushes the screen door aside to let us in.
"Aunt Addy," Zach says, "this is Vera."
"Oh, you poor thing," she says. "Jack called and said he was sending men to rescue you, but they were shot at. And Zach!" Her eyes narrow, and she punches her fists to her ample hips. "Wait 'til your father finds out you went into the smuggling tunnel."
"Someone had to be the hero." Zach turns on the charm complete with dimples, sparkling eyes and a slight tilt of his cleft chin.
She musses his hair, shaking her head. "What am I going to do with you, boy? Even missing a leg you're still rescuing damsels in distress." She turns to me. "Oh my, and you lost a shoe and your dress is soiled. You'll be needing some clean clothes, but you're such a tiny thing, I don't think I have anything in your size."
"That's okay," I mumble. "It's nice to meet you."
"I can ask the other guest, but I think she's too tall." Zach's aunt raises her hand to a level above my head.
"Don't worry about it. I'll go shopping tomorrow." I leave my single platform shoe on the mat and follow her to the kitchen. She flutters all over Zach, chiding him on his bravery, pigheadedness, and how his father will ground him. He winks at me and helps Addy ladle two bowls full of summer squash soup.
"Sit, Vera." He gestures me over and whispers, "She's like a mother to me."
"Is she your mother's sister?"
"Dad's. My mum was an only child, but Addy was her best friend, so it all worked out."
Aunt Addy sets the soup in front of us with a crusty loaf of whole grain bread. She bustles about and announces she'll make up my room.
"Thanks, I'll pay you back when I get my stuff together," I reassure her.
Addy waves her hand. "You're a friend of Zach's. I'm sure he'd rather have you here than on the streets."
"You'll be safe here," Zach says. "Auntie used to be a sharpshooter in the Army. I'd stay with you if I could, but the house rules apply to me."
"You're darn right," Addy says. "Stop making eyes at the girl and let her eat. I'm sure she'll be wanting a bath."
After Addy walks out of the kitchen, I ask Zach, "What house rules?"
"No alcohol, no public displays of affection, no swearing." He breaks off a piece of bread and butters it. "If you stay the weekend, you'll be going with her to church."
"Does this apply to all guests?" I sip the soup, which is savory and minty.
"Only the pretty girls I bring around."
Girls plural?
My jaw clenches. Zach has always been a player, a connoisseur of fine wine and women. I wonder how many old girlfriends live around here including a possible fiancee, if what Cliff was trying to show me were true.
"Vera?" He touches my fingers. "Hope you'll understand why Addy won't let me stay. I'll be down the road at my father's place."
"It's okay by me," I mutter and spoon soup in my mouth to avoid looking jealous. After I finish the soup, I push from the table. "Can I borrow your cell phone? What time is it right now in the Bay Area?"
He moves his mouth and looks at the ceiling, then says, "Four-twenty in the morning. Who are you calling?"
"A friend." I'm flustered, my stomach is aching, and I'm upset because Zach has a fiancee, and the hills are crawling with exes and maybe even current hookups. I seriously have to pull myself together. I am not falling for Zach Spencer, a walking advertisement for a heartbreak rehab clinic.
He moves his chair closer to mine. "There's no one but you, if you'll have me. After your shower, let's sit on the back porch. It overlooks the lake and we can count the stars."
I don't want to count stars or do anything romantic with Zach. I'm sweaty, hot, cranky, and in need of a shower. I hate the jealousy clawing at my gut. This isn't like me. Why is he enticing me with stargazing and sweet words?
And why does my pulsating heart yearn and rage to go along with him?
My fingers slip to the crock of his neck and I tilt my lips to his. Before I can take another breath, we're kissing. His silky tongue slips over mine, dragging tiny moans from the back of my throat. There's so much I want to tell him, no, am afraid to tell him. I shut my eyes and melt into the moment.
He holds
my face tenderly, softly tasting, tempting me with beautiful feelings of belonging to him, waking up next to him, spending a lifetime--
Footsteps sound behind us, and Zach lets go of me. I lower my head and cover my swollen lips with my hand, missing him already and hating the familiar emptiness crashing down on me.
"No smooching at the kitchen table." Addy wags her finger.
"Thanks for supper." Zach recovers quickly. "Let me help with the dishes."
He jumps to his feet but stumbles, catching himself with the kitchen counter.
"Are you okay?" Both Addy and I rush to help him.
"Yeah, it's nothing. I need to refit my leg. Didn't have time to pad it enough. But I'm good." Zach waves us away, limps toward the sink and turns on the tap.
"I'll wash the dishes." I add soap and grab a dishrag.
"Uh, uh, you need a shower first." He scrunches his nose, mockingly. "Auntie, have you seen my mobile? Vera needs to borrow it."
"Your friends left it on the porch swing," Addy says, then turns to me. "Your room's ready. I found some sweatpants and t-shirts from when Zach was in middle school and laid them on the bed. I'll put the mobile there while you're showering."
"Thanks, you're too kind." I pick up the bowls and take them to the sink where Zach is washing the dishes.
He nudges my hip. "I'll wait for you out back."
***
The shower is more than refreshing, although my thighs are wind burned from the motorcycle ride. I dab myself dry with the plush towels. Everything, from the wallpaper to the lotion dispenser is frilly and floral. I almost sneeze when I rub the sweet smelling lotion onto my legs.
I wrap a towel around me and wipe off the foggy mirror. What a mess I am. My hair is stick straight and glossy, so I can easily finger comb it. But with no makeup, I look like a young teen. Imagine how I'll look in Zach's middle school clothes.
After washing my underwear and hanging them on the rod to dry, I try on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Perfect fit. These must have been the ones he wore before his growth spurt. I'm glad Addy didn't leave me any briefs or boxer shorts. That would have felt too strange.