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California Girl

Page 15

by Rice, Patricia


  Her next nightmare was that Mendoza would come to the door and demand court papers, but she should have known a wealthy man couldn’t be bothered dealing with government lackeys. The maid returned to peer around the door again.

  “Mr. Mendoza says you must make an appointment,” she whispered. “And you must have papers from the court.”

  Keep the maid occupied was the only thought Mame allowed in her head. “I have papers from the court and don’t need an appointment,” she said coldly. “If Mr. Mendoza does not present Lucia this instant, I shall be forced to call the district attorney.”

  She wished she had a legal background instead of a medical one so she could sound more official, but she’d evidently frightened the maid sufficiently. Probably an illegal immigrant, Mame decided as the poor thing scurried off.

  Still no alarms. Was Dulce inside yet?

  Did she imagine it, or did she hear the roar of an angry man? Had he been watching her from the window? She would have been if she were in his place. Or had he just discovered Dulce?

  Fighting for breath past the constriction in her chest, she anxiously watched the path Dulce had taken earlier. The instant her companion dashed down the drive carrying a weeping child in her arms, Mame ran for the car.

  While Dulce threw Lucia’s school backpack into the back seat and jumped in with her niece, Mame climbed into the driver’s seat and threw the car into gear. In the rearview mirror, she caught the sight of a short, barrel-chested man rushing out the front door—carrying a shotgun.

  She hit the gas at the first explosion of gunfire.

  * * *

  Elliot ground his teeth and furiously gripped the Caddy’s roof with fingers that should have dented the metal as Alys sashayed down the street toward the restaurant. His chest burned, increasing his alarm, but without his medical equipment he had no way of determining if he was in trouble. He had to find Mame before he checked himself into a hospital.

  He rested his arm on the car hood and leaned his head against it, waiting for the pain to subside.

  He had no reason to take his frustrations out on Alys. Losing his temper would not find Mame or solve his problems. He knew how to practice calming techniques to avoid the complications of his Type A lifestyle.

  He still wanted to bash the car’s hood in.

  Sitting on the dashboard, the kitten watched him through the windshield. Alys had tied a red ribbon around its neck but the cat had mangled it and was in the process of shredding the ends with its teeth.

  She’d told him he needed a shrink. She was homeless, penniless, and heading nowhere because she didn’t know what else to do with her life, and he needed the shrink?

  Uh-uh, he didn’t think so.

  He could see Alys’s slim figure crowned by the black cowboy hat marching down the sidewalk-lined highway, her blue-jean-clad hips swaying in indignation. He wasn’t used to accommodating anyone else’s wishes in his life. Maybe he’d been a bachelor too long to fit well into a relationship.

  So, who the hell needed a relationship anyway? He’d been doing fine without one all these years.

  No, he hadn’t. He had no knack for casual sex, no time to pursue it, and he wanted Alys in his bed again. And again. And again.

  If he thought about it, he knew that wasn’t all he wanted. He liked waking to her laughter. He enjoyed how her strange mind worked around his. And dammit, her vibrations did often ease his tension. The sex sure as hell did more than that.

  And he didn’t want her walking into more Harley-riding thugs or whatever other trouble she could collect in her naïve belief in her invulnerability.

  Knocking her over and stealing the car keys back wouldn’t help him get where he wanted to be. Throwing a temper tantrum wouldn’t either. If he thought it would help him find Mame, he might attempt both, but logic had returned. He’d just momentarily given in to the illusion that he might have some command of the situation. Stupid of him. He was starting to understand that the only person he had any command over was himself, and that was becoming increasingly tenuous.

  Stalking after Alys, he caught up with her just as she turned into the doorway of another diner advertising barbecue and Texas-fried steak.

  “What if we passed the Rover in the rain?” he demanded. “It was too dark to see far alongside the road.” He caught her elbow to steer her through the diner crowded with college students.

  “The police investigate cars alongside the road. If your cop friends filed an APB, they should be calling shortly.” Jerking her elbow from his hold, she took the vinyl dinette seat and opened the menu so he couldn’t see her face.

  Elliot pulled the menu out of her hands and turned to the waitress. “Two iced teas, unsweetened, and two Cobb salads.”

  “I can fix salads at home. I want something I can’t cook on my own.”

  “You need vegetables. Eat the salad and you can have pie.”

  Alys slapped her palms on the table and leaned over until they were nearly nose to nose. “I am not the one with the problem here. People die. Accept it, Elliot. You are not dictator of the universe. Face facts and get over it.”

  He thought about it. Then he leaned across the table, planted his lips across hers, and said, “No.”

  He liked the way she shut up and fell right into the kiss. He liked the way she thought for herself and stood up to him. He liked a whale of a lot of things about Alys Seagraves, and he wouldn’t let her harm herself any more than he would let Mame.

  He didn’t like being stared at, however, so after shutting her up with a satisfying tongue tango, he sat back down and let her do the same. If his expression was anywhere near as shocked as hers, they were already a sight to see without groping each other in public.

  “What do you mean, no?” she asked, recovering rapidly. “I don’t think you have an option here, Elliot. You cannot put Mame in a cage with Purple.”

  “But if I find her, I can reason with her. And as long as you’re with me, I can see that you eat properly. You may get hit by a truck tomorrow, and I can’t stop that, but I can try to see you live as long as possible.”

  “You’re not God,” she muttered, adding sugar to the iced tea the waitress delivered to the table.

  But he noticed she ate every bite of the salad, even if she did slather it with dressing and ask for more.

  When the waitress asked about dessert, Elliot told her no and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill before Alys could override him. It was time he took back the reins.

  “We’ll pick up cookies next door,” he told her, dragging her to her feet. “We can take them to the park with us.”

  That got her moving. “Chocolate chip,” she crowed. “I haven’t had fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies since I was a kid.”

  “You’re still a kid. Actually, I know kids with more sense.” Leading the way next door, he ordered two oatmeal raisin cookies.

  “Sometimes, kids understand things better than adults. You’re way too adult, Elliot. Try being a kid again.”

  Pulling out her meager wallet, Alys ordered four chocolate chocolate chip. She slapped his hand when he tried to shove back her money, then stood on her toes to kiss his cheek to distract him as the clerk handed over their sacks.

  “Not God,” she murmured, opening the sack and removing a still-warm cookie.

  “Not sane,” he muttered back. “Have you even tried oatmeal raisin?”

  “Not while in reach of chocolate chip.”

  She shoved a cookie between his lips and Elliot nibbled it. It was luscious and warm and packed with artery-choking butter and chocolate. He shoved oatmeal raisin into her mouth in retaliation.

  She chewed a bite and nodded. “Not bad, but not chocolate.”

  “The difference between great sex and mediocre sex?” he asked, swiping the key from her hand as they marched back down the highway, opening the passenger door for her when they reached the car. He was still ticked that she thought they could forget sex after one night.

  She caught
Purple and slid into the seat without kicking his shins in retaliation. She kept him off balance, never knowing when she would blow up at him and when she would accept his dictates.

  She didn’t answer immediately, so he didn’t know if she was stewing and furious or considering the answer or ignoring him. He started the car and followed the signs in the direction of Palo Duro Canyon State Park.

  “Maybe,” she finally said. “But then, what if sinfully delicious chocolate chip sex is actually good for you?”

  They hadn’t seen a sign of Mame since noon yesterday, and he was going insane worrying over her, but he had to laugh at Alys’s reasoning. “You don’t want oatmeal cookie sex?”

  “Ha, big shot Doc Nice thinks he’s chocolate chip sex.”

  “If you want to live dangerously, it might as well be fun.” Content that he’d got her head screwed back on right and that he had some chance of looking forward to the evening ahead, he relaxed for the first time that day.

  Which ought to worry hell out of him but didn’t.

  * * *

  “My word.” Alys exhaled in reverence. The canyon opening below the scenic viewpoint in the visitor’s center was far more than her imagination could ever have conjured from old cowboy movies. “It’s a lunar landscape painted in colors.”

  “And Mame will want to see it by horse,” Elliot said in resignation. “There was a sign for a stable at the entrance.”

  Alys couldn’t conceal her eagerness. “You mean it? We can ride horses down there? Even if I don’t know how to ride?”

  “They’ll be trail-broken nags if they’re safe enough for Mame. If we’re really lucky, maybe we’ve actually caught up with her this time.”

  So far, they’d not located Mame’s name anywhere in Texas. The park’s visitor center had a guest book, but it hadn’t been very visible. Perhaps Mame hadn’t seen it.

  Since Elliot hadn’t received any calls from the police, Alys had to assume all was well. She’d lived with worry far too long and had no intention of repeating the experience, not with the wonders of the earth spread out before her. As long as Mame was leaving a trail of orchids and kittens, Alys knew she was all right.

  She offered Elliot the last chocolate chip cookie in gratitude. He broke it in half and returned the bigger piece to her.

  She could never live with his high-intensity worry gene, but she liked his gentlemanly politeness. Of course, what he really wanted was more sex. If she wanted to be a risk taker, shouldn’t she go for it?

  The stable didn’t show Mame’s name on their roster as having gone out that morning, and she wasn’t signed up for later in the day.

  “Maybe she’s doing museums today,” Alys suggested, trying to reassure Elliot and erase the frown. She could have bit her tongue after she said it. Now he’d want to go back to the museum.

  He looked torn, and she tried to hide her longing. She wanted to grab every opportunity offered, knowing life had a way of hitting people with buses when they weren’t watching. Still, she understood his concern for Mame was deeper than her need to ride a horse through a canyon.

  He shook his head and handed his credit card to the person taking reservations. “For all we know, Mame is right behind us, watching our every move. Or she found another stable. Let’s see the canyon.”

  Alys flung her arms around him and kissed him. She’d never thought of herself as a demonstrative person, but then, her whole problem was that she didn’t know who she really was. She could easily learn to be demonstrative in the company of a man who granted her every wish.

  “Umm, hold that thought,” he murmured against her mouth, holding her so tight that her feet left the floor. “I’m thinking of writing a chapter on a diet of chocolate chips.”

  “I’ll read that one.” She shoved away and dashed outside to examine the horses in the corral.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “We can’t ditch the car. We need it to reach your mother.” Mame watched worriedly out the hotel window.

  When she’d first planned this expedition, she’d made the mistake of reserving a room in the Big Texan Motel in Amarillo, hoping for a touch of whimsy. At the time, she hadn’t realized she would need a room protected by security guards and interior corridors. The Texan was designed as a cross between a frontier film set and the old-fashioned Route 66 motels that had only two floors and an exterior walkway.

  If Salvador was following them, he could smash in a window and be inside instantly. Unless he wanted to instigate a court fight over Lucia’s guardianship, he wouldn’t bother calling the police. A man with a gun didn’t need a court order. He could go anywhere he liked.

  “Surely, he wouldn’t hurt Lucia, would he? He was just shooting the tires, right?” Mame asked, trying to reassure herself as much as Dulce. She couldn’t believe anyone would deliberately harm the innocent child sleeping in the middle of the bed.

  The huge Range Rover sitting outside the motel room loomed like a billboard shouting “We are here!” She’d felt like a rolling target driving down the interstate after Dulce had explained the purple semi cabs they passed belonged to Lucia’s grandfather.

  A policeman might not look twice at an elderly lady and a young woman driving down the highway in a muddy SUV unless they were violating traffic laws, but Salvador could tell his drivers exactly who to look for. As far as Mame was aware, the hotel could be seen from the interstate. Trucks flew across the bridge a few hundred yards from the door. It was only a matter of time before Salvador radioed them to be on the look out for a Range Rover.

  But the child had been terrified and all either of them could think to do was find the room Mame had reserved so they could let Lucia settle down while they plotted their next move. Secretly, Mame hoped Elliot would be there to help them, but he wasn’t.

  That was probably a good thing because he was likely to send them back to Salvador if he knew the truth. Talk about mixed emotions.

  “He shot at the tires. And missed.” Dulce stroked the hair of the sleeping child before rifling through Lucia’s backpack. “I think Salvador hates giving up what he thinks of as his. He worked hard and pinched pennies until he owned that trucking company. It is in his nature. I do not know what he will do if his drivers find us.”

  Mame had no answer to Dulce’s fear. “He’ll know we’re heading for the reservation. If we turn around and go the other way, do you think we can lead them astray?”

  Dulce considered this. “There is no place for us back east. We could look for a truck with ‘Mendoza Trucking’ on its side, let the driver see us, and head east as if I was taking her back to Springfield with me. But I don’t know if we will be able to lose them long enough to turn and go the other way.”

  “What if Elliot and Alys take her to the reservation?” Mame asked. “We could make certain Salvador or his drivers see us head east, and lead them on a wild-goose chase until Lucia is safely with your mother.”

  Dulce looked doubtful. “Why would they do such a thing for us?”

  “Albuquerque is only a few hours away. Why wouldn’t they? They’ve already taken in the cat and the orchid, haven’t they? That’s the kind of people they are,” Mame said with assurance, crossing her fingers behind her back.

  “How soon will your nephew arrive?” Glancing nervously at the door, Dulce stashed Lucia’s bright pink camera and assorted precious possessions into the backpack she had grabbed on the run. “There is no clothing in here, just the things she takes to school with her. I must run over to that Wal-Mart we saw and buy her some pajamas and things.”

  “If they went to the canyon, it could be hours before they return. Or they could just be waiting until check-in time.” Mame glanced at her watch. It was past four. Fortunately for them, the room had been ready early.

  “We should go on,” Dulce said uncertainly. “Lucia does not know your nephew or Mrs. Seagraves. If we hurry, perhaps we will reach Albuquerque before Salvador can notify all his drivers.”

  “If they’re looking, they�
�ll be looking for us. They won’t be looking for Elliot and Alys.” Now that the idea had formed, Mame wouldn’t let go of it.

  She didn’t want to admit she feared frightening either child even more if she should have another spell. Dulce had too many burdens already.

  “Lucia is not a kitten. We cannot just leave her here,” Dulce protested.

  That Dulce had agreed to come to the hotel said she knew as well as Mame that going on alone was dangerous. They needed help fighting an angry man with a gun and a fleet of trucks.

  Although legally speaking, the law was probably on their side, it could still be messy if they were caught before they reached the reservation.

  “We won’t just leave her here.” Mame sat down at the desk and fished out a piece of hotel stationery. “I’ll write Elliot a note and explain where he needs to take her.”

  “I can’t just leave Lucia with strangers without explaining to her.” Frightened, uncertain, Dulce took up watch at the window.

  “Once you pick up the things you need at the store, I’ll take the car and hide it where it can’t be seen. You can explain to Lucia what’s happening and stay here until they arrive. They don’t know you. Pretend to be a maid or something. We’ll find a cleaning cart. As soon as they come in, you run. I’ll wait for you at the Pizza Hut down the road.”

  Heart in her eyes, Dulce glanced at her sleeping niece. “It’s not as if she hasn’t been cared for by strangers before. It’s just—”

  “I know.” Mame scratched the pen quickly across the paper. “You’ll give her a safe home soon, one where she’ll feel like talking. Salvador won’t be able to touch her once we reach the reservation.”

  Dulce closed her eyes in prayer. Mame applied all her persuasive abilities to the note, hoping to convince her stubborn nephew to do what was best—and not necessarily what was right.

 

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