Heat Wave

by Jill Marie Landis

  “Hang on. I have to give him a call.”

  “I’m thirsty, Butch. I’ll be right back. Want a Pepsi? How about you, Callie?” She started walking.

  She felt Butch’s hand on her shoulder. Nothing forceful or threatening, just a gesture meant to make her wait. She glanced over her shoulder, saw him reach for his front pocket, for his cell phone. He let her go.

  “Tell Jamie to hurry back. I’m hungry. Ask him if we can all go get something to eat.” Sunny turned around again. She took three steps toward the door.

  A couple more feet and we’ll be outside.

  A few more inches and we’ll be outside.

  She couldn’t think of anything but getting Alice out.

  “Hang on, wouldja? He’s not answering.” Butch sounded more frustrated than angry.

  When Sunny’s hand hit the doorknob, she didn’t look back.

  KAT CROUCHED TO the right of the door with her .380 in her hands, barrel pointed at the ground. With the television blaring, she barely heard what Sunny was saying, but snippets of the conversation sounded like the girl was sticking to the scenario they’d rehearsed in the car. If only she’d waited for the police.

  Suddenly Kat heard a thick male voice say, “Hang on, wouldja?”

  The door whipped open. Sunny and Alice stepped into view. Sunny’s eyes were wide and wild, huge pools of fear in a face as pale as moonlight.

  Kat’s heartbeats tripled. She caught a glimpse of the number on the motel door, the same as in Seal Beach.

  Not a very good sign.

  “Damn it,” the man inside yelled. “Get back in here, Sunny.”

  Alice recognized Kat and squealed with delight. Kat’s heart contracted. Sunny nearly tripped. Her face registered alarm. Kat flicked her head toward the dark parking lot, indicating that Sunny should take off.

  “He’s got a gun,” Sunny whispered before she started running toward the street.

  “Shit,” Kat mumbled. She expected the man inside to run out firing. She took a deep breath, and with her weapon in position, realized she could see most of the room reflected in a mirror on a wall inside.

  The tall, heavyset youth across the room was reaching for a gun on a phone table. She took another deep breath and stepped into the open doorway.

  “Leave it. Raise your hands or I’ll shoot.” She trained her weapon on him, held it steady. Foolishly, he grabbed the gun and turned.

  They fired simultaneously. A magnified explosion and an unbridled scream filled the small room.

  SUNNY HEARD THE gunshots, heard Callie’s hysterical nonstop screams, put her head down, and kept running. If she’d been alone, she’d have gone back, but not with Alice in her arms. There was no way she would ever put her baby’s life in Jamie’s hands again, no matter what that decision meant for the future.

  She hadn’t reached the end of the driveway when an unmarked police unit turned into the lot. A black-and-white pulled up to the curb outside the motel office. Inside, the night manager was staring out the window, with a phone to his ear.

  A tall, rumpled, tired-eyed detective, probably overworked and underpaid, stepped out of the unmarked car and flashed his badge, distracted by Callie’s screams.

  “Kat—” Sunny began.

  He didn’t bother to question her. He signaled to one of the uniformed officers to stay with her, pulled his weapon, and bolted toward the room with the light and screams streaming out. His partner and a uniform were hot on his heels.

  Sunny was quaking so hard she was afraid she’d drop Alice. The patrol officer escorted her to the police car, moving her swiftly along. He put her in the backseat without taking his eyes off the motel room, then radioed for backup.

  Sunny stared through the window, watching the silhouettes of the two detectives as they shifted around inside the motel room. Finally one of them came jogging back to the car, radio in hand.

  He was calling for ambulances. Two gunshot victims were down.

  BY ONE THIRTY in the morning, Ty had convinced himself Kat wasn’t out looking for Sunny, but that she was out with someone.

  The hint of her perfume lingered in the bathroom when he’d first come back. Her makeup kit was dumped out on the vanity in the bathroom.

  Who wears perfume and makeup to a stakeout?

  He had no hold on her. They’d made no promises. She’d been straight with him from the very beginning. Last night he’d found out why she was so terrified to let go and fall in love.

  After the way it all happened last night, he felt like a heel.

  He wanted to see her, to talk to her about what she’d told him, help her in any way he could. He knew damn well she cared about him, and about the girls.

  Why else would she have stopped by Selma’s after what happened to ask about Sunny?

  He called home every hour on the hour but R.J. still hadn’t heard from Sunny. He paced to the living room window and stared out into the night. The quiet residential street was dark and deserted. The lights in the main house in front of her duplex bungalow had gone out a long time ago.

  Worried and frustrated, he snapped off the muted television. There was nothing on this late but old reruns and bad infomercials, and he didn’t need any diet supplements or miracle wrinkle creams.

  What he really needed was to get the hell out of here and get a room someplace. After what happened last night in Twilight, Kat probably never wanted to see him again anyway. It would be better if she didn’t come back and find him here.

  Then he thought about the framed sonogram in the drawer and about everything she had said about the loss of her child and how it still affected her.

  There was a world of hurt inside Kat, and he wanted a chance to love her, to prove to her that not all men were like Justin Parker. To prove to her that when he gave his heart, he wanted it to be for keeps.

  His overnight bag was still in the car. There wasn’t anything to clear out except himself.

  He was about to walk out the front door when his cell phone rang, shattering the silence, startling him. Hoping it was R.J., he slipped it out, fumbled flipping it open. He didn’t recognize the caller’s number.

  “Hello?”

  At first all he heard in response was a choking sound, then a quick indrawn breath.

  “Chan . . . Chandler?” It was Sunny. Crying into the phone.

  His gut tightened and sent his heart to his throat. “Where are you? Is Alice all right? Are you all right?”

  “Kat . . . Kat’s been shot. Can you come down here?”

  “What do you mean shot? Where are you? How’s Alice?”

  “Alice is okay. Don’t worry. Just come to Van Nuys. The hospital, on Sepulveda.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “I didn’t know . . . who else to call. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “How is Kat? What happened?”

  “I don’t know. They won’t let me see her.”

  There was no time to waste talking.

  “I’m on the way.”

  Chapter 35

  THE OVERHEAD LIGHTS in the hospital corridor were painfully bright, stark and raw as the sanitized white walls and linoleum floor.

  Sunny leaned against the wall outside Kat’s room, arms crossed, empty to her soul. Child Protective Services had taken Alice, screaming and kicking, pulled her baby from her arms in the hospital waiting area on the first floor.

  Down the hall, Kat’s friend, Detective Fred Westberg, spoke with two plainclothes officers. Every so often one of them would glance at her, catch her eye, and turn away, as if she were no more than a speck on the wall.

  She wiped another tear from her cheek, hating to let anyone see her cry, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to stop. Not since they’d taken Alice.

 
She wanted Alice back, she wanted Dodge back, she wanted everything to be all right, but nothing would ever be the same again.

  She couldn’t get the shooting out of her head. The scene in the motel parking lot played itself over and over like a bad rerun.

  The police had been all over the place within minutes. Ambulances arrived, sirens blaring, lights flashing. A crowd had gathered on the sidewalk outside the motel. Curious lookie-loos stared into the patrol car at her and Alice. Mobile television crews were there in an instant.

  Worse yet, the patrolman guarding them wouldn’t tell her anything. She had no idea if Kat and Butch were still alive. If it hadn’t been for Kat’s detective friend taking her into his custody, letting her call Ty, she would have already been booked at County.

  Detective Westberg explained that Alice would have to be placed in protective custody. No amount of pleading helped. He was already bending the rules by bringing her along with him to the hospital to wait for her dad to show up.

  She hadn’t informed Westberg that Chandler lived three hours away.

  She shivered and shoved away from the wall as she heard the bell ring at the bank of elevators. When Chandler stepped out she was shocked.

  She fought for breath, tried to move, but her throat was choked with tears. His long strides ate up the distance between them. Her breath hitched when she saw the worry in his eyes.

  When he was a yard away, he opened his arms, and she rushed into them, felt them close around her as he held her tight and rocked back and forth. She broke down and cried like Alice, cried like a baby in her father’s arms.

  She had been responsible for her mom as long as she could remember, almost as if she were the grown-up, not Amy. For years she’d taken care of herself. Dodge had tried to keep everything going, to find ways to provide for all of them, but then he was gone and everything fell on her and Jamie.

  She had Alice to protect and care for—

  “Sunny? Sunny, shh.” Ty was rubbing her back, patting her, comforting her the way he did Alice.

  If I have to go to jail for what I’ve done, then he’ll he there for Alice. He’ll raise her right.

  She wished she could hide her face against his shirtfront forever and pretend she was a child with her whole life ahead of her, wished she could start over with Ty there to hold her hand and guide her steps, the way he did for Alice.

  “Sunny, what happened? Where’s Alice? Where’s Kat? They wouldn’t give me any information downstairs.”

  She stepped back, wiped her face with both hands, finally met his eyes. He rested his hand on her shoulder, as if afraid to break the connection, as if he hated to let go.

  She asked, “How did you get here so fast?”

  She thought he’d been in Twilight.

  “I was already at Kat’s place in Long Beach, waiting for her to come home. What in the hell happened?”

  She could see how afraid he was for Kat. He was practically holding his breath, expecting the worst.

  Sunny glanced toward Kat’s room. “They won’t let me see her. She . . . she was wounded. A . . . a head wound.”

  Ty’s hand tightened on her shoulder as he looked past her. Sunny turned, saw the bald detective walking toward them.

  “Mr. Chandler?” The man extended his hand, gave Ty a quick onceover. “I’m Detective Fred Westberg of the L.A.P.D. I’m also a friend of Kat Vargas’s.”

  “How is she?”

  “Still unconscious. A bullet grazed her temple, but according to the doctors, it didn’t do any critical damage. They’re concerned about her being out this long, though. It’s a waiting game at this point.”

  “I need to see her. Now.”

  “Does she have any family we can contact? I tried to get a hold of Jake Montgomery, but I haven’t been able to reach him.”

  “All of her family is in Hawaii. Jake Montgomery is in New Mexico on vacation.” He looked at Sunny, included her. “We’re all she’s got.” The detective didn’t look impressed, but he seemed to weigh Chandler’s concern as he shoved his hands into his baggy trousers.

  “Go on in.” Then Westberg nodded at Sunny. “She waits out here.”

  “She’s my daughter.”

  “I gathered.”

  “Where’s my granddaughter?”

  “With Child Protective Services until they can find suitable care.”

  Sunny watched her father’s expression darken. “I’m suitable care. How soon can I pick her up?”

  “She’s in good hands. As soon as they can run a background check on you, you’ll probably be allowed temporary guardianship.”

  “Why was she taken from my daughter?”

  “Your granddaughter was caught in the middle of a very dangerous situation tonight. Your daughter is in my custody. And Kat’s in there alone. I don’t want her to wake up by herself. If you aren’t going in—”

  “What about my daughter? Will you release her to me?”

  Sunny bit her lips to stop them from trembling. Chandler wasn’t going to walk away.

  Only Dodge had ever cared as much.

  Then she remembered what Kat had done for her, and started crying again.

  “Right now, your daughter is my responsibility,” Detective Westberg told Chandler. “She’s in a heap of trouble, and if it wasn’t for Kat, she’d be behind bars. I gave Kat my word I’d do everything I can to help the kid out of this jam, so long as she cooperates and testifies about her friends.”

  Westberg hesitated. He glanced down the hall. The plainclothes men were gone. The uniformed officer who’d accompanied them here was sitting on a chair beside the door to Kat’s room.

  The detective let go a weary sigh. “How about I see that Sunny gets something to eat down in the cafeteria for now? I’ll check back in thirty minutes.”

  Sunny wanted to protest, to stay with Chandler. She knew how badly he wanted to see Kat, but he was waiting for her cue.

  She glanced up at Detective Westberg. The man was Kat’s friend, and he had agreed to try to get her out of the mess she was in. It wouldn’t help to piss him off.

  She nodded to Chandler. “It’s okay. I’ll see you later.”

  She thought he’d rush into Kat’s room, but when she and the detective reached the elevators, she glanced back down the hall. Chandler was still there, watching her.

  KAT HEARS THE sounds first, smells the antiseptic hospital smell. She’s in Queen’s Hospital, air-vacced earlier from Kauai to Honolulu.

  She opens her eyes and her little brother Zachy is there. He lives on Oahu, works as a sound manager for the Don Ho show at the Hilton Rainbow Lagoon.

  “Hey, sis.” His eyes are red, but he smiles.

  “Hey, Zachy.” He is the second youngest and takes after Pop the most. With his huge brown eyes and curly lashes, he’s been all the Vargas girls’ real-life doll since his infancy. They spoil him rotten. Zachy has never faced anything like this alone.

  He looks so nervous and frightened for her that she is sorry he’s ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  He’s trying hard to keep it together. It’s his duty to represent the family until reinforcements arrive.

  It takes a moment before she notices the emptiness inside.

  Her mouth is dry, but she manages to speak.

  “The baby?”

  Zachy looks everywhere but at her. “Mom and Pop are taking the first plane from Kauai.”

  “Zachy . . .” She knows, but has to hear him say it so it’s real.

  “The doctors say it’s a miracle you’re alive. Your pelvis is cracked. Your car is totaled.”

  She wants to scream, Screw the car! She wants to grab him, shake him so that he will say the words she knows are coming.

  “What about the baby?” She sees the immeasu
rable pity in his eyes.

  “She’s gone, sis. The baby’s gone.” An alligator tear starts down his smooth brown cheek, spikes the end of his lower lashes.

  “Where did they take her?”

  He tries to hold her. She struggles in his arms. What she needs he can’t give. She needs to touch, to hold her little girl, to prove to herself that the baby has been more than a dream.

  She fights him, tries to break free.

  “Kat! Kat, it’s okay. You’re okay. Wake up.”

  Sound filtered through the darkness. Someone was calling her name. She struggled, tried to move her head, to open her eyes. Finally, there was light behind her eyelids. She tried to blink.

  “Kat. Open your eyes.”

  I’m trying.

  Didn’t he know her head hurt like a son of a bitch?

  Finally, she opened her eyes, but the world was out of focus. Someone was holding her hand.

  Zachy?

  “Zachy?”

  “No, Kat. It’s Ty.”

  Panicked, she blinked. Her eyes slowly focused. A television was hanging on the wall beyond the foot of the bed. Beside her, a rolling tray with a green plastic water jug and cup. An I.V. bag and line.

  Her heart started pounding. Somewhere behind her a beeping sound intensified with her heartbeat.

  “Kat?”

  Ty, not Zachy, was holding her tight, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep her from hurting herself. He was on the bed, sitting beside her, watching her closely.

  “Ty? How long have I been out? How did you get here?”

  “A couple of hours, I think. I was already in town. At your place.”

  “At your place.”

  Slowly it all started coming back. She remembered seeing his car parked outside her house, remembered leaving without talking to him. She went to the Valley, trailing Hatcher. Had to find Sunny. Help her get away.

  “Sunny?” Frantically, she tried to sit up. “Where’s Sunny? Is she all right? Where’s Alice? Don’t let them hurt Alice.”