California Girl (19 page)

“How far is the museum?” he asked without looking at her.

“Just down the road from the state park. I thought it might
have a nice place for lunch.”

“I’m ready to stretch my legs, and the hotel won’t let us
check in until this afternoon. Let’s go on.”

She darted him an uncertain look but the traffic began
moving. If only she could turn off her worry gene and her caring gene, she
might progress a little better on this journey to find herself.

But she couldn’t, so she took deep breaths, cleared her
pathways, and did her best to send Elliot positive vibrations. They had days of
travel ahead. She might as well do what she could to make them pleasant. It had
never occurred to her that one night of mind-bending pleasure could ruin their
trip.

It was a pity Elliot was another narrow-minded man who
preferred physical connections over the metaphysical. She could help him much
better if he would open to the healing power of the spirit.

She didn’t turn on the music station again but let him
listen to NPR. It didn’t seem to make him any happier, but at least he wasn’t
growling by the time they reached the flat town of Canyon. The museum area was
on the main highway, and Alys pulled into the parking lot.

“Let’s check the guest book first.” He unsnapped his seat
belt before she found a space.

“It’s probably not a good idea to travel with a cat,” she
said with some concern after they’d parked and released Purple from her cage.
The kitten crawled up Alys’s arm and took a flying leap into Elliot’s lap. “But
I hate to leave her at a shelter.”

Elliot absently scratched behind the kitten’s ears before it
darted off to attack a bug on the windshield. “Maybe we can persuade Mame to go
home if we tell her the kitten is unhappy traveling.”

“You live in a dream world, don’t you?” Alys checked to be
certain the cage had food and water. “Denial does not change the facts. We’ll
catch Mame when she’s ready, and she’ll go home when she wants to.”

“I’m not in a state of denial.” He slammed out of the car
and waited for her to gather her purse and lock the car. “Mame is.”

Leaving the window cracked to let in air for the kitten,
Alys tucked her hand around Elliot’s elbow and sent more positive vibrations.
He definitely needed some calming energy. He was coiled so tightly he could
generate electricity. Had she done that by declaring sex off limits?

He squeezed her hand between his chest and muscled arm and
all but hauled her across the street into the museum.

“Mame has decided this is something she wants to do before
she’s faced with her mortality.” Alys tried to force Elliot to understand the
spiritual universe Mame inhabited.

“We can’t always have what we want,” he grumbled.

“We can, if we’re willing to pay the price.” She patted his
shoulder.

She could tell he didn’t like that answer but stewed over it
while they poured over the guest book’s latest entries.

Mame’s name wasn’t on it.

“We left early,” she consoled him, “and we didn’t stop in
Clinton. We’re probably ahead of her.”

Without investigating the museum further, Elliot headed back
out. Alys had to run to keep up with his long-legged strides.

“Maybe she’s at the park already.” He strode briskly toward
the car.

“You
can’t mean to head for the park now!” She caught his elbow and tried to slow
him down. “It could take hours to figure out where they might have a guest book
in a
park
. We’re supposed to take our
time, enjoy the marvelous scenery.” She had only one life to live, and she
didn’t want to barrel through it like he did.

“How am I supposed to enjoy canyons when Mame could be
having a heart attack and falling off a cliff?” he yelled, stopping at the car
and rubbing his chest with one hand while holding out his other for the keys.
“You want me to enjoy horseback riding while wondering if my aunt is at the
bottom of a canyon somewhere? I’m tired of playing these games!”

He’d never raised his voice to her before. Had she and Mame
finally driven him to his breaking point?

“You know perfectly well that Mame is not in the bottom of a
canyon, even if we haven’t heard from her today. Odds are she is having the
time of her life.” She paused for breath but didn’t give him time to get a word
in. A good tirade should never be wasted. “It’s time you figured out there are
some things in life you can’t control. If you intend to spend your life
worrying, you need to use your book royalties to buy a shrink.”

Keeping the keys, she strode off in search of lunch.

It was nearly noon by the time Mame and Dulce fought
through the downpours and reached the area just outside of Amarillo where
Dulce’s sister had lived. Mame noticed that her companion tensed as they took
the side road off the interstate. They’d exchanged enough conversation over the
last few days for her to realize Dulce had run as far and as fast from her
roots as she could go, earning a college scholarship rather than suffer her
late sister’s fate of marrying to survive. Mame suspected the self-defense
classes Dulce was taking at her school said a lot about her background.

Dulce had abandoned college and her dreams to come on this
journey to take on a burden that wasn’t hers. Mame saw something of herself in
Dulce. The girl was no doubt wondering if she was crazy to throw her life away for
her sister’s child. There had been days when Mame had wondered that, too. But
over the long run, she knew Elliot and his brothers were the best thing that
could have happened to her. They’d ended a decade of selfish mourning and given
her purpose.

Dulce drove past abandoned storefronts and empty parking
lots, aging neighborhoods of deteriorating two-room houses, into an area of
expensive shopping centers and golf courses. Taking the turn-off into a gated
community with no security guard, she slowed to a crawl.

Houses adorned with Jaguars, swimming pools, and
water-sprinkled lawns in this desert-dry country screamed excessive wealth.
Mame had second thoughts about this expedition while watching a nanny push a
plush twin stroller to a pretty neighborhood park. “Are you certain Lucia is
unhappy here? It looks to me as if her grandfather could give her everything
she could want.”

“Salvador
did not fight his way to wealth by being a nice man. He is cruel, calculating,
and cold, and when he drinks, he is worse. He gave his son everything money
could buy. Henrique shot himself after my sister died. Does this sound like a
stable, happy family man? Lucia no longer speaks. Salvador won’t let us—her
family—near her. He has told the court he has put her in a school for
dysfunctional
children, and then wonders why she’s dysfunctional?”

“Money can’t buy happiness, got it.” Still, Mame warily
watched the million-dollar mansions they passed by. A man with this kind of
wealth could afford to go to the end of the earth to have his way. No wonder
Dulce felt forced to kidnap her niece even though she had legal guardianship.
It might take the entire Navajo nation to stop Lucia’s grandfather.

“Do you have some kind of plan?” Mame asked worriedly as
Dulce found house and steered the Range Rover up the curving driveway. She’d
been envisioning some pleasant ranch house where they could stop and find Lucia
playing in the yard. Did children play in these yards?

“My cousin works for the utility company. He has parked his
truck here and watched when Lucia comes home. He says there is a maid and the
old man and no one else.” Dulce looked determined as she threw open the car
door.

“You can’t just walk into a place like this,” Mame protested
when it became apparent she intended to do just that. “There are alarm systems.
Someone will recognize you.”

“Even if they don’t recognize me, they’ll know who did it.”
Dulce shrugged and climbed out.

“Wait a minute! Stop right there.” Mame struggled with her
seat belt while Dulce stood beside the driver door in puzzlement. “If the maid
answers the door, I can say I’m a social worker appointed by the court. You
stay in the car. In fact, duck down so no one can see you.”

Dulce’s eyes widened, but she understood at once. Dulce was
brown-skinned and young. Mame was white and older. The maid would listen to
Mame.

Thinking Elliot’s expensive SUV might add to the impression
of respectability, Mame girded herself for battle, ignoring her erratic
heartbeat. If possession was nine-tenths of the law, she was about to have the
law on her side, where it belonged.

Clasping her big black purse in front of her as if she were
as ancient as she felt, Mame rang the doorbell. It took several minutes of
waiting before the door creaked open. A small Hispanic woman peered around the
partially open door.

“I’m Margaret Emerson, from the federal court in Amarillo.”
She opened her purse to display her identity badge from school. “I’ve come to
have a few words with Lucia, if that is convenient.”

“I will have to ask Mr. Mendoza,” the maid said hesitantly.
“Wait right here.” She shut the door in Mame’s face.

So much for hoping Salvador wouldn’t be here. Turning
around, Mame gestured at Dulce, but the girl was extremely bright. She was
already racing around the side of the house.

Praying Lucia was somewhere easily accessible, Mame stood on
the doorstep doing her best to look like a nonplussed court official tapping
her foot and glancing at her watch. She hoped the maid took a while. Locating
Lucia in a mansion this size—even if Dulce circumvented security—could take
time. Of course, if Dulce set off alarms, they’d be arrested before they drove
a mile. Good thing she had Elliot’s cell phone number.

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.