by Tina Leonard
Not like the man she knew at all.
Zach sat in the easy chair after Pop had gone to bed, trying to decide what to do. If LouAnn sprang her trap, it was going to be the end of him and Annie. The small flower that had begun to blossom between them would be ruthlessly nipped off at the bud. Yet how could he call Annie and try to explain the pictures? He’d sound like a fool. LouAnn was counting on that.
It felt like she had him right where she wanted him.
Lost in a hazy world of worry and regret, Zach barely realized he’d reached for the portable telephone beside him. Dialing the operator, he requested a number, memorizing it instantly. Hesitating only one second more, Zach dialed the number.
Cody answered immediately, despite the late hour. “Hello?”
“Cody, it’s Zach Rayez.”
“Well, Slick. Como esta?”
Zach started at the sound of Spanish in his ear. He registered two things: one, no one had spoken the language directly to him since his mother had left, and two, Cody had used the formal tense…as if they didn’t know each other very well… Which didn’t sound much like the man who’d given him a friendly chewing out over spending inappropriate time with Mary. Zach’s antennae raised.
“I’m fine,” he replied. “Wanted to bend your ear about something.”
“Bend away.”
Although the farmer wasn’t gregarious by nature, neither had he always been short with Zach. His antennae began to quiver. “I had an unfortunate incident occur with my ex-fiancée. The bottom line is, she’s found out about Annie and decided to make trouble.”
“How do I fit into this scenario?”
Zach winced at Cody’s brusque tone. “I’m hoping you can tell me the right way to approach this with Annie. As I see it, either way I’m going to lose her respect and trust. But I don’t want to see her hurt. If I can avoid it at all, I’d like to try.”
Cody sighed. “I see.”
Zach took a deep breath, preparing to color in the rough sketch he’d just given Cody. “LouAnn was angry that I’d called off the wedding. Deciding that she needed collateral to make certain I’d be the willing groom, she arranged to have—”
“Suggestive pictures of the two of you sent to the unsuspecting third party,” Cody interrupted.
“Yeah,” Zach said. “How did you—? Damn it to hell! She’s already sent them.” He cursed fluently under his breath. He’d underestimated LouAnn’s determination to cut him off at the knees. A sudden thought speared his brain. “Oh, my God. What about Annie? Is she all right? Does she want to kill me?”
Cody chuckled slightly. “Hold on, Slick. Don’t give yourself hives. Annie’s fine, I think, right now. The pictures were…a shock, to say the least. They were very revealing.”
“Shut up, Cody,” Zach said, his mood not lightened at all by Cody’s joke. “Tell me about Annie.”
“I don’t think she has murder in mind, although she’s very distressed. I sort a figured there was sabotage involved—”
“How in the hell did you figure that?” Zach barged in impatiently.
Cody paused for a moment. “Don’t really know, Slick. Might have been your body language.”
There was dead silence for a moment. “Cody,” Zach said finally, “you are crazy.”
“Yep. Well, I gotta go, Zach. I’ve been spending too much time running around doing other people’s stuff, and mine’s suffering. I’m a farmer by career choice, and this farm doesn’t take care of itself. Oh, but about Annie,” Cody said in a quiet, straightforward tone, “she’s no fluff ball like the one who was trying to snare you. She’s not going to enjoy intrigues and low-rent special effects like she got today. You’d have been burned out of her life like a hole in a cloth if I hadn’t been there. It wasn’t a Kodak moment when those little squares of film arrived, if you follow. So, if you’re as smart as I believe you are, you’ll do your best to keep Blondie’s nails trimmed. Cody’s Lovelorn Hotline, signing off.”
The phone went silent. Zach turned the phone off, sighing deeply. What little bit Cody had told him let Zach know Annie had been hurt deeply. It was too late to call tonight, because with his luck—and the phone being in her kitchen—he could wake up Travis or Mary. He’d have to wait until tomorrow. He closed his eyes, rubbing the lids tiredly. Damn. He’d never played such emotional roller derby in his life.
The thing to take his mind off the whole situation for a while was to bury himself in world events, Zach decided. He snatched up some loose change, noticing that the light was blinking on the answering machine. It could wait for a few more minutes.
Zach went outside, walking briskly down to the corner newspaper cage. Sticking in the coins, he pulled out the paper.
LOCAL BUSINESSMAN SUSPECTED OF EMBEZZLING, the headline blared. “Sam Lindale moved fast on that,” Zach murmured to himself. Reading swiftly down the column, he suddenly stopped, his heart in his throat, his chest beating wildly.
According to a high-placed source within Ritter International, Zach Rayez has been mentioned in connection with thousands of missing dollars stolen from the brainchild he created, read the caption.
Zach staggered home, feeling like he’d just taken a bullet through the chest. Pain and fury mingled together in a cocktail of emotion that dizzied him. His name splattered in such a manner, in the newspaper where no prominent person—businessman or social chairman—could miss it.
He was finished.
Nothing he could do, no retraction he could ever force, could take away this black stain and resurrect his reputation. There would always be whispers in boardrooms, and doubt. Everything he’d worked for all his life in his desperate drive to escape his past had just gone up in smoke.
And Annie. Though she was far removed from Austin, he had no doubt that some considerate person—like the one who’d sent her the pictures—would make certain she got this day’s informative edition. What conclusion could she possibly draw, other than what was written there in black and white? She was going to believe the worst. And if he would commit a crime against the company he’d started, how could she know that she would fare any better? That he hadn’t been lying to her all along?
Without being aware of his actions, Zach stumbled inside his house, slamming the door behind him and just barely remembering to lock it. His breath was caught deep in his chest where he couldn’t draw it up comfortably. Zach put a hand against his rib cage and made for the privacy of his bedroom.
Tossing the paper onto the bureau next to the emerald earrings and snake jaw, Zach caught a glimpse of himself, eyes wild, black hair askew. He looked tortured. Shutting off the light, Zach fell back onto the bed, to stare upward in the darkness.
He was being tortured.
“Zach, you’ve got to get up,” Pop said, his voice holding a note of concern that Zach registered but ignored. “You’ve been rotting in those sheets for the whole morning. Phone’s been ringing off the hook, and I ain’t no damn secretary. If you don’t get the hell out of those shucks, I’m having some paramedics come and rescue you.”
Zach turned over, but other than that, didn’t move. He couldn’t. The tightness in his chest had returned, though it had subsided during his sleepathon. Still, he’d been up all night trying to think of a way out of the maze, without any luck.
“Zach, damn it! If anyone should be lying in a bed, it’s me.” His father’s voice came closer. After a moment, Zach felt an aura, like something was close to his skin. He opened one eye, to see Pop staring anxiously into it.
“Ah. You are alive.” Pulling up a chair, Pop sat down and glared into Zach’s only open eye. “It ain’t gonna get any better, you know, sitting in here and hiding from it.”
“Oh, hell. Am I going to get a pep talk from the man who’s spent most of his life hiding inside a liquor bottle?”
Pop snorted. “My, we are going to have a pity party, I see. Well, I’ll be here as long as I need to be.”
Zach heard the steely determination in Pop’s tone a
nd groaned.
“I may as well begin by giving you your messages.” There was a rustle of paper. Zach closed his eye wearily, realizing there was more than a page length of phone calls. “There was a message from a reporter at the newspaper, wanting to confirm some details. ’Spect you shoulda picked up your messages sooner,” Pop stated in an ironic tone.
When Zach grunted, Pop continued, “Then, a man named Sam Lindale’s called about five times. He’s frantic. Says he’s got to talk to you right away. Told him you’d caught the flu.”
“In August,” Zach commented without opening his eyes.
“Well, could be stomach flu. The man wasn’t looking for specifics on your health. He wants you to know that’s he’s placed all the calls he can to pertinent folks, but the damage is probably done.” Pop nodded decisively. “That’s what he said.”
“Like I needed anyone to tell me that.” Still, the fact that Lindale was trying to help soothed Zach’s pride. He could use a few friends like him right now.
“I ’spect he’s talking about this little eye-opener in the paper,” Pop said blandly, pulling out the damning article. “Got me a paper the next day, ’fore I knew you’d bought one. Could have saved myself two quarters.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Pop,” Zach complained. “It’s fifty cents, not a million bucks.”
“Still. Wasn’t any need of wasting good money on a paper that’s gonna report lies.”
Ah, another supporter in his corner. Not that it would do any good, Zach thought sourly, but it did appear to be true that one’s real friends came out when the chips were down. It was a nice change from the filth-spewing father he’d learned to accept.
“Speaking of the newspaper, you’ve got about ten calls from different reporters wanting to hear your side of the story. Wanting to know if you’re going to jail, if you’re going to skip the country, small details like that.”
Zach snorted.
“LouAnn called, wanting to know if you’d changed your mind about the wedding. Said that it looked like marrying her was the only way to save your reputation now, because obviously a Harrison wouldn’t marry a criminal.”
A wave of sardonic laughter wanted to burst from Zach, but he held it in ruthlessly. Of course not. His lily-white ex-fiancée would never get her delicate fingers dirty by marrying a criminal. Because they all knew Zach was innocent.
“I asked that bimbo if she was behind this stack of bull dung, but she said no. Actually, she said an extremely rude thing to me that has to do with a sexual act.” Zach opened his eyes to see Pop sitting up stiffly in the chair, looking affronted. “I don’t think I want her for a daughter-in-law,” he said primly. “Your mother could yell my ears off, but she would never have dreamed of saying such a thing.”
“Let’s not forget you’ve used that same language many a time,” Zach said mildly, though he was trying not to laugh at Pop’s disbelief over LouAnn’s choice of words.
“That’s different,” he said. “She wants to be your wife. I don’t think you ought to marry a woman who talks like a whore.”
“Thanks, Pop. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Anyway,” Pop continued with a sigh, “some business acquaintances called, leaving messages for you to call them. You’re probably going to lose some contacts over this.” He slid Zach a warning look.
“I think I can count on that.”
“Well, that takes care of my receptionist duties. I haven’t written so much in ten years, and I know I haven’t talked on the phone so many times in my whole life.”
“Thanks, Pop. I appreciate it. Unplug the phone now, if you don’t mind. I’m not going to return any of those calls.” He lifted his head up from the pillow suddenly. “Nobody named Annie called, by any chance?”
Pop consulted his list again, frowning. “Nope. And I was very careful to take names and numbers, if they’d give them to me. But there was no Annie. In fact, the only woman who called was LouAnn.”
Zach let his head fall back onto the pillow. “Figures. Of course, I really wouldn’t expect Annie to call.”
Pop didn’t reply, and silence hung between them for a moment. Slowly, because it felt like his muscles had begun to atrophy from pressing grooves in the sheets, Zach sat up. Giving Pop a hard look, he said, “How come you’re still sober? Have you been sober the entire time I’ve been in here?”
Pop looked astonished. “Didn’t I teach you better manners than to insult a houseguest?” he asked. Zach looked at him warily. His father shrugged. “I’ve stayed in a pretty even stupor ever since your mother left. Now that I’ve lost my house, it’s become clear to me that drinking wasn’t solving anything. I lost her, I lost my house and I damn near lost you. Way I see it, I’m at the end of the road here.”
“Last Chance Hotel, huh?”
“Feels like it to me. Though it hasn’t been easy. The first day, I felt like the only thing that was going to make me feel any better was the hair-of-the-dog remedy. But I shut my door and waited till the urges passed. I’ve taken a few walks around the backyard to feel the sunshine. I’d nearly forgotten how good the sun felt on my skin. I’ve gone through most of that gourmet coffee you keep in the house, and I want you to know that stuff tastes like shit.” Pop wagged a finger at him. “We’ve got to get some real coffee in here.” A sheepish expression came over him. “And I’ve ordered a helluva lot of pizza, Zach. I hope you won’t mind that I took some money from your wallet to pay for it. But you were in here a long time, and I was getting hungry.”
“Oh, hell, Pop,” Zach said, stretching out his legs, “it’s not like there’s a whole lot to eat in this house, anyway. You’re not supposed to eat paint chips just because you’re living here.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, “Since I was getting married, I wasn’t laying in lots of groceries. Just enough to get me by.”
“Looked like peanut butter and beer was enough to get you by, then,” Pop sniffed. “This ain’t no four-star hotel, is it?”
Zach eyed his father. “Now, that sounds more like the man I know.”
Pop gave a short flip of his hand Zach’s way. “I’m not complaining. I just meant that I spent all these years being jealous of you, thinking you had it all, were living the high life. I had no idea your life was so stressful, Zach.”
Zach was silent. Pop’s words hurt.
“It’s lonely around here, too, isn’t it?” he continued. “There’s no noise, no neighbors totting around to get into your business.”
“Or to steal you blind, either, Pop. If you miss the bingo parlor, you can go back.”
Pop shook his head. “You’re mighty sensitive today, Zach. Lack of natural light’s affecting your mood.”
“Ah, hell.” Zach leaned into his hand as it rested on his knee. “I’m being an ass. I don’t mean to be. Ignore it if you can. I really don’t want you to leave,” he said, meaning every word.
“I didn’t take you seriously. Besides, there are benefits to being here, Zach. I didn’t mean to point out bad stuff, just that it’s different. Which is good, because I’ve had some time to think. Damn, it’s so quiet, all I could do was think.”
“You could have turned on the TV in the den,” Zach reminded him.
“I did that some. But mostly I just sat and thought. And there’s something I think I should tell you.”
“Oh, boy.” Zach’s tone turned ironic again.
“I loved your mother, Zach. She was the most special woman I’d ever met in my life, even now.” Pop looked uncomfortable with his revelation. “Truth is, I adored that woman to the point that I smothered her. I didn’t want another person looking at her, or sharing any of that generous soul she had. I can’t explain it any better, than to tell you that Cati was like no other.”
Zach bent his head. He knew what his father was talking about. Annie held a piece of his heart that no other woman could ever touch.
“I was so jealous,” Pop continued, his voice sad, “that I became insecure. I was certain I wasn
’t good enough for Catalina. She was lonely, I know, because she didn’t speak good English. I didn’t care, though.” Pop laughed softly. “I understood every word she said. It was total, emotional communication.”
Shifting uncomfortably, Zach bent an elbow to lean on his knee, grasping his chin in his hand. All his life, he’d wanted to know the truth. Now, he was going to hear it. Though it was going to be just a little more salt rubbed into his fresh wounds.
“But my doubts about myself led me to start acting dumb. I mean, here was this beautiful woman I’d met when I was on leave, when I’d gone into Matamoros to drink. And we had a few dates—well, I ate dinner with her family a couple of times, and those were dates, because she was from a good family—and we fell in love. Most incredible, she agreed to come back with me.”
The disbelief on Pop’s face was nearly comical. Yet Zach felt saddened by the whole sorry tale.
“Right away, I suspected she was doing it just to get legal. Then the whole family would eventually come over.” He took a deep breath. “And instead of thinking, yeah, that’s a great idea, I’ll marry Cati, and she can become a legitimate citizen and her family can come over eventually…” Pop paused for a moment, “…I let my jealousy talk. I thought she might leave once she got legal. So I used it as a weapon, a chain to keep her with me forever. In short, I was a bastard.”
Zach wanted to agree, but his father had spent too many years living with his regrets. “So, then what happened?”
“Well, she became pregnant with you, and for a while everything was fine. Except then I learned from a neighbor that the fellow down the street, Pablo, was slipping by to see her while I was at work every day. And I saw red in shades I never knew existed,” Pop said quietly. “I wanted to kill that son of a bitch, though I knew, in my heart, that…my Cati loved me; that she was lonely and wild for someone to speak with in her own language. But that just infuriated me more, because it was a part of her I couldn’t have.”