“And I’ll take care of you two from here via satellite,” said Richard. “I’ve already fixed up two satellite phones, and I’m nearly done putting in the AT commands on the WIFI laptop. All three have satellite uplink, so you can communicate from anywhere in Mexico using direct linkage from one of their satellites straight to D.I. El fin,” he said ending his tapping. “It’s done. You should be able to reach me, get information from D.I., and vice-versa within a matter of seconds. The sat phones are also Walkie Talkies, ladies, with a five-mile radius, so you can talk to each other,” he added. “Plus they have photo and video capabilities. This way you won’t have to carry a camera or scanner with you. I still don’t like you going by yourselves,” he threw in.
“It’s settled, Richard,” Lila said, uncapping her pen and writing again in her damned journal. “Liana, I do believe we’ve thought of everything.”
“Apparently so,” I said, falling into the nearest chair.
“I’ve booked us two first class tickets for midnight tomorrow to Leon,” she continued, scribbling away. “Of course, we have a thirty-five minute layover in Houston. There are still no direct flights from here to there. More’s the pity. With the time change, we’ll arrive first thing in the morning. Virginia will meet us at the airport and drive us back to the rancho. The element of surprise,” she smiled.
Unlike me, during this entire exchange Mira hadn’t tried to say anything. Now she spoke up. “You don’t know what this means to me, all of you. I’ll be grateful to you ‘til the day I die. Especially you, Lee,” she added. “Carlos and I know you’re the only one who can find out what’s going on.”
“Let’s hope your faith in me is justified,” I said, clearing my throat. “Mira, about Carlos, I need to tell you something privately. How late can I call you?”
Lila and Richard exchanged looks but said nothing.
“As late as you want,” Mira answered. “I do nothing but sleep these days.”
“Good.” I changed the subject. “Before we hang up, let’s talk about the man who appraised the dog statue again. What exactly did you say to him? Did you tell him you might get a second opinion?”
“Yes, I did, and he didn’t like it.”
“I’ll bet. Can you describe him for me?” Now that she was better and codeine free, maybe her description would be different, and he wouldn’t sound so much like Douglas’ Estaban. I could feel her thinking about it over the line.
“Middle-aged, silver hair, distinguished looking, spoke with a Spanish accent. Oh, yes. He had a big diamond stud in one of his ears.”
Crap, I said to myself. “Okay, thanks. By the way, Mira, Tío says you hardly eat anything. You have to promise me to try to do better.”
“Si,” said Tío, his voice scolding her gently. “You have had nothing but a piece of fruit all day. Do not try to fool me. I know this is so.”
“Well,” she said, “I wouldn’t mind a little something right now.”
I could hear Tío’s voice perk up, as if he’d just won a door prize. “I have on the stove cooking my sopa de pollo, which, if I must say so myself, es mejor del mundo.” The best in the world. As a recently retired but renowned Bay Area chef, Tío might be exaggerating, but not by much.
We hung up on this upbeat note, and I got up, stretching my muscles.
Richard must have noticed because he said, “Mom, Lee, you both look worn-out, and you’ve got a couple of big days ahead of you. Why don’t you go home? I’ll take care of Len when he wakes up.”
“Works for me,” I agreed and started gathering my things to leave. “By the way, speaking of scanners…” I said.
“I didn’t know we were,” Richard replied with a smile.
Removing the nonfunctioning doodad from my handbag, I dropped it on the table, saying, “This one is a dud.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Richard, losing the smile. “All of our equipment is checked out at least three times.”
“Well, this one’s not working.” I said crossing my arms and staring at him. “I tried to use it and nothing.”
Richard picked up the device and studied each side of it before saying, “Here’s your problem. See? You’ve got it set on pause.”
“Pause?” I stuttered. “I never set it on pause.”
He shrugged. “Well, pause it’s on, sister mine.” He depressed a button, and I heard a small sound, reminiscent of a robotic vacuum cleaner. “There you go.”
“I didn’t know there was a pause button,” I babbled. “No one ever told me.”
Richard handed it back to me and started typing on his laptop, saying, “Note to self: better training for operatives using equipment, even the most basic of instruments,” he added, looking at me. “And I’d better go over the sat phone and the laptop with you several times before you leave.”
Lila got up, saying, “I won’t go just yet, as I have one or two things I need to take care of in my office.” She turned to my brother and smiled, “However, I will leave Leonard in your capable hands, Richard.”
“Since when do you consider my hands capable?” Richard teased.
“Since Leonard went from being our client to your friend,” I answered.
Lila ignored our banter. “Be sure to inform him that Robby Weinblatt has fled the scene and is possibly aware of the situation.”
“Sure thing,” said Richard, swiveling back to his laptop or rather, my soon-to-be laptop.
“And no more contention about head hunting, Richard,” she warned, “theirs or ours. It’s a business practice none of us is happy with, but the less said about it the better. Understood?”
“Got it,” Richard said. “Besides, I don’t like to kick a man when he’s down.”
It was nearly ten-thirty when I pulled into the hedge-lined driveway and toward my garage apartment. About three-quarters of the way down the drive, I thought I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and then my headlights bounced off what looked like someone’s eyeglasses. It happened too fast to be sure, but I stopped the car and idled for a moment, deciding what to do. For my money, it looked like Robby Weinblatt in that brief flicker of an eye, although how he found out my real name and where I lived I couldn’t imagine.
On further thought, the research Richard did on him previously showed when he was thirteen, he was given a two-week detention at school for enabling the library computers with porno websites. He could probably find out a lot of information on anybody, even someone as carefully screened
as me. Never underestimate the power of a hacker and his computer.
I took the flashlight out of my glove compartment, lowered my window enough to stick it through, and searched the brush for any signs of life. Then I decided to get out of the car and do a thorough search. I figured if I found somebody, between my karate and the metal flashlight, I had the edge. I am nothing if not cocky.
There was a soft rustle in the bushes, and it wasn’t the wind. Dashing the five feet or so to the hedge, I yanked some aside and aimed the light toward the sound just in time to see an astonished Señor Robby fall to the ground on his back. The look of terror on his face would have made me laugh, if I wasn’t so damned mad. As he tried to claw at the ground backward to get away, I grabbed the front of his T-shirt with my free right hand, jerking him into a standing position. He was a lot lighter than I thought he would be, and I overcompensated, pulling him to the side of me and almost into the brush behind.
Robby struggled like the proverbial greased pig and somehow managed to stretch the shirt over his head and off his body before I could drop the flashlight to make use of my other hand. He wound up breaking free, his thin little half-naked body fleeing into the darkness, while I held an oversized T-shirt with “Artificial life beats real stupidity” written on it.
Flinging the T-shirt onto the backseat of my car, I was furious that he had gotten away. Seconds later, though, I found myself chortling over the fact that the temperature had dropped to around fifty-five degrees, and he was goin
g to be one cold mama by the time he got to wherever he was going. I toyed with calling the police and reporting him for trespassing, but I figured he was in enough trouble without me adding to it.
After driving the car inside the garage and climbing the steps to my apartment, I phoned Mira for that one-on-one chat we needed to have. It was brief, and I must say she took it well. Her sympathies were all in the right places. Carlos was one lucky man. I think this slight chink in his armor made Mira love him even more. Knowing they would sort it out in the morning, I said good night and was asleep in less than ten minutes.
Several hours later, I was roused by Tugger growling softly in my ear. I had never heard him make this sound before and was at first confused by it. Even though it was dark, I felt him rise, standing taut, his growling intensifying. Then I heard a noise in the kitchen. Before I could move, Tugger leapt off the bed and ran toward the sound. I didn’t turn on the light, feeling it was better to stay in obscurity, but that decision slowed me down.
I felt my way along the wall listening to a growing commotion in the kitchen. Within seconds, there were sounds of shuffling, and Tugger’s ever increasing growling turned into a loud howl. Then came a man’s exclamation and cry of pain. That’s when I began to run and fell over the coffee table. I let out a scream and grappled for the five-iron I keep behind the sofa for just such an emergency. Rounding the corner to the kitchen, I heard the man shriek, things being knocked over and a sound of pain from Tugger. Brandishing the golf club, I lost precious moments trying to find the light switch. When I turned it on, my vision was blurred by curling puffs of flour and the intensity of the light. A form pushed past me and out the open kitchen door before my eyes adjusted. When they did, all thoughts of pursuit were gone. On the kitchen counter, the canister of flour lay on its side, a still Tugger beside it.
I felt another scream escape me and dropped the five-iron, rushing to my pet. He was covered with flour but still breathing. He opened his eyes suddenly. Afraid to pick him up, I helped him struggle to wobbly feet, looking for signs of cuts or bruises. So intent was my concentration, I didn’t hear footsteps running up the stairs until there was a banging on the front door.
“Liana,” cried my mother from the other side of the door. “Liana! Are you all right?”
“Liana, por favor, answer us,” said Tío.
“Just a minute,” I yelled, looking at Tugger. He was steadier on his feet now, and I felt I could leave him for a moment or two. Racing to the front of the apartment, I bellowed that I was all right, while unlocking the door. They barged inside.
“I’m all right. I’m all right. It’s Tugger,” I said, with a catch in my voice. Turning, I ran back the kitchen. I found my cat sitting where I’d left him, his eyes half closed. He was breathing slowly and deeply. Mom and Tío followed on my heels and stopped right behind me.
“What happened?” demanded Mom, looking at the disarray in the kitchen.
“Someone broke in, and Tugger got in his way. I think he’s hurt.”
“Let me see,” Tío said with quiet authority. He stepped in front of me and began to examine the cat. Tugger leaned into Tío’s gentle hands.
“I should bring him to the vet emergency hospital,” I said, fighting back sobs. “There’s one in San Mateo. He could have internal injuries or something.”
“Shhh, Liana!” Tío ordered. Tugger shook himself free of flour, stood and turned around, as Tío continued his inspection. “I think he has had the air pushed out of him, mi sobrina. I think he will be all right in a moment,” Tío said.
“You mean the wind knocked out of him?” asked Mom, leaning on the counter and stroking Tugger.
As if to emphasize that fact, Tugger freed himself from their hands, jumped down and shook his body again. He went to the middle of the floor and began cleaning his paws. I grabbed a kitchen towel, followed and sat cross-legged beside him, gingerly wiping the remains of the flour off his back and legs. “He does seem better, doesn’t he, Tío?” I asked, my voice still trembling a little.
“Look at this,” Mom said. “I think this is blood on the refrigerator.” Glancing up, I scrunched my eyes and noticed several droplets of blood, too small to drip down the white enamel. “And there on the floor,” she said, pointing to another spot.
“Dios Mio!” I exclaimed, carefully taking Tugger in my lap and looking all over his body for a wound.
“I do not think that has come from el gatito,” Tío remarked. “Look, there is more on the cabinet door.” Tío pointed to the cabinet over the fridge. This was a streak of droplets, as if splattered from a small paintbrush.
I set Tugger on the floor and the three of us watched as he cleaned his paws but not his body, which still wore traces of flour. Picking him up again, I took one of his paws in my hand and pressed down to splay open his talons.
“Mom, Tío, look at this!” They came over to where I sat on the floor with the cat in my lap. “There’s blood on his claws, and I don’t think it’s his.” Ears back, Tugger freed his foot from my clutches, hopped down again, and strolled out of the room, annoyed by all the attention.
I stood up and went to the refrigerator, examining the top. I noticed the vase of flowers that had been upright when I went to bed was now on its side, water and flowers everywhere. “Tugger must have jumped up here on top of the refrigerator, just like you taught him, Tío, only when he pounced, his claws were extended.”
For the first time, I looked at the opened kitchen door that led out to the back deck. The pane nearest the lock had a neat, round hole in it. We crossed to the door, stepping over the few drops of blood on the floor, and I flipped the switch for the deck lights. In the flood of light, we could see that one of the window boxes had several geraniums broken. I ran over to the railing, where I saw a rope ladder dangling by a metal hook.
“The guy wanted to get in here real bad,” I said to my uncle, who had followed me outside. “It’s almost a twenty foot drop.”
Mom stood at the door, saying, “What I don’t understand, Liana, is how he got the door opened. Didn’t you have it dead bolted? And what about the alarm? Why didn’t the alarm go off? If we hadn’t had our windows open, we wouldn’t have heard your screams.”
Wordlessly, I went back inside, shivering from the night air and my stupidity. Reluctant to admit it, I said in a small voice, “I didn’t put the alarm on, Mom. I don’t use it unless I’m going away for a while.”
“What about the dead bolt?” she demanded.
“This dead bolt. What is that?” asked Tío.
“It’s a key that locks the door from the inside,” I said. “It’s often used on doors that have window panes in them, like this one. Even if someone breaks the window, like he did, the door still can’t be opened unless you have the key to unlock it.” They both looked at me expectantly. “The key is in the cookie jar. I haven’t used that, either, in months and months.”
“Oh, mija,” Tío commented, shaking his head.
“I see,” Mom said. “I’m disappointed in you, Liana. I thought you were smarter than that.”
Even as a child, that was the ploy my mother used on me when I did something wrong. She never punished me, just expressed her disappointment and made me go to my room to “think about what I’d done.” It undid me every time. It still does.
Crossing to the counter, I took the key out of the cookie jar. “Okay, I admit it. I was careless, lazy, and stupid, and if it hadn’t been for Tugger, there’s no telling what might have happened.” I shut the door, locked it and returned the key, not to the cookie jar but to the nail head near the door, just out of reach to anyone from the outside. Both mother and uncle regarded me silently.
“From now on,” I said to both of them, “I promise to use both the dead bolt and the alarm every night. This won’t happen again.”
Mom touched my face lightly with her fingers, saying, “I’m sure it won’t.”
“Si, si, mi sobrina,” Tío said as he hugged me briefly. “A lesso
n well-learned, espero.”
“I hope so, too, Tío.”
We went back into the living room where Tugger was sprawled out on the sofa, cleaning his fur. “There’s my hero,” I said. He looked up and blinked, just like a cat. I walked over and sat next to him, caressing him. “Even though he looks all right, I still think I’ll bring him into the vet tomorrow.”
“We should call the police, Liana,” said Mom.
“Not, now. I’m too tired. All I need is Frank and his men crawling all over the place. Besides,” I added darkly, “I’m pretty sure I know who it was.”
“Who?” they asked in unison.
“Robby Weinblatt,” I spat out and went on to tell them about my run in with him just hours before. “That miserable son of a bi—”
“Liana,” Mom interrupted me, with a look of warning.
“He could have hurt Tugger,” I said through clenched teeth, stroking a now purring cat.
“Ah, but judging by the blood in there,” said Tío. “I would say el hombre got the worst of it. I believe he has deep scratches on his face, neck and shoulders. Maybe even puncture wounds. Those can be serias.”
“Good. Let’s hope they’re very serious,” said my mother, uncharacteristically, sitting down by my side. “If you don’t call tonight, then you should tell Frank about this break-
in tomorrow morning, when you give him that note.” She put an arm around me. “For now, why don’t you come over to the house and sleep there?”
“No way,” I said wiggling free and standing up. “I don’t get scared out of my home so easily. When you go, I promise I’ll use the dead bolt and put the alarm on.” I raised my right hand, as if being sworn in. “I’ve got my trusty five-iron and, of course, the bravest cat in the world to protect me. I’ll be fine.”
Mom let out a deep sigh and shook her head. “Very well. Besides, I know you. When you’re like this, nothing can persuade you.”
“Exactamente,” I replied.
Tío insisted on getting a board and nailing it over the broken pane before he would go back to bed. After dead bolting the doors, turning on the alarm, and checking the windows, I fell asleep on the couch, waking only to the sound of birds chirping to the rising sun.
Alvarez Family Murder Mysteries Boxed Set: Books 1-3 (The Alvarez Family Murder Mysteries) Page 33