California Girl (33 page)

Alys hugged Dulce, kissed Lucia, shook Purple’s paw,
exchanged hurried phone numbers—using his cell phone for hers—and backed off
with tears in her eyes.

Elliot
pretended not to see the tears. His heart hurt in too many places as it was. It
hurt worse when Lucia waved her little hand and called
adios
after them, even though there was a huge smile on her
face.

“What will you do when we find Mame?” Alys whispered as they
drove back down the road.

He had been putting off thinking about it. “Find Mame” had
been his goal for so long that he’d resisted going beyond that particular wall.
“Ask her to go back with me.”

“And if she won’t?”

With a sigh, he answered, “Sit around and keep an eye on her
until she’s ready to go, I guess. She’ll come around eventually.”

“What about your deadlines? And the radio show?” She watched
him with open curiosity.

“The book and my notes are in my laptop. I can work on it in
a hotel room. Don’t know about the show. I took the week off for the book tour
and was supposed to return on Sunday. May have to call in and ask that they replay
an old show. I can’t leave her here alone.”

“She’s with someone,” Alys reminded him. “A man named Jock.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that when we get there.”
Setting his jaw, Elliot steered into the heavy interstate traffic heading into
the city. At least there weren’t any purple semis tailing them. Or anyone else,
as far as he could tell.

Alys subsided into silence. Out of the corner of his eye he
caught her surreptitiously wiping her eyes, but she picked up the map and shook
it out and did her best to look interested.

“We’ll check on Lucia tomorrow when we deliver the camera,”
he reassured her. “She’ll be fine now that she’s with family.”

She sent him a watery smile. “I know. I miss Purple. Maybe I
should work in a pet store.”

“Or a plant store. You still have the orchid.” He nodded at
the backseat where she’d carefully buckled in the pot so it could get sun
without tipping over.

“I need to mist it again. It’s horribly dry out here.”

“You’ll need to work in a day care, a greenhouse, and a pet
store to satisfy all your nurturing urges. How are you on skipping sleep?”

She glanced at him warily, crossed her legs in the seat, and
sank into the lotus position. A smooth dark curve of hair concealed her face.
“Maybe I should be a doctor so I can sit in an office and write books and never
see people. Do you get lots of sleep?”

Elliot winced at the direct shot. He supposed it was only
fair. He’d been shooting down her dreams all week. “I can help more people with
my books than by seeing one person at a time.”

“Not necessarily.” She shrugged. “From my experience,
medicine might treat symptoms, but for true healing, people need human beings
to listen to them. Body and soul are all one—until we’re dead at least.” She
shifted from her yoga position and brushed a short strand of hair from her
eyes, but she didn’t look at him.

“Chicken soup for the soul,” he said scornfully.

“Chocolate truffles for the soul. Chicken soup is good for
bodies but my soul craves decadence.” She flipped on the radio and began
singing about docks and bays.

What had he been thinking? She needed someone arty who could
relate to her crazy way of thinking. Maybe a musician who could teach her to
sing. Or some New Age guru with crystals around his neck. They had absolutely
nothing in common.

Except he enjoyed her company, insane as it might be.

And somehow, she had saved his life just holding his hand.

* * *

“I need to call them, Jock.” Standing in a sea of boldly
colored, rippling nylon, Mame glanced nervously back to the parking lot. She
should have learned how to use a cell phone—then bought one.

The burly man tugging the maroon-and-gold nylon across his
allotted piece of the field shook his shaggy gray head. “It won’t do a bit of
good, Mame. They already know that something ain’t right. You can’t tell them
anything different.”

“I can tell Elliot about his car.” Although, come to think
of it, she’d rather not.

“You can tell them when they get here. If you’re crewing for
me, you need to get to work, hon. Your nephew isn’t a dummy. He’ll keep his
eyes open.” Eyeing the layout of the nylon, he returned to the basket to
recheck the tie lines. “Set the fan in position. We’re ready to roll.”

Mame loved the excitement of watching the big balloons fill
with air. All around them other crews were in various stages of the process,
spreading out the nylon, securing tie lines, switching on the huge fans to
start inflation. She’d anticipated this moment for months—this was what living
was all about.

But Elliot and Alys could be driving straight into trouble
if she didn’t warn them.

Dulce had taken dirt roads Salvador’s purple trucks couldn’t
touch. They had thought they’d led him off Lucia’s trail, keeping Elliot and
Alys safe.

But when they’d arrived in Albuquerque, someone had slashed
the tires on the Rover. Whoever had done it was still out there. Jock had
called the police, who’d blamed vandals. Mame wasn’t quite so certain.

If Salvador’s men had followed her, they knew the motel
where she was staying. They’d see Elliot and Alys when they arrived.

She rubbed her chest and searched the crowd in hopes of
seeing Elliot’s tall head or Alys’s shorter one safely hurrying toward them,
and she prayed.

“Why did she choose a hotel way down here by Old Town if
the park is out on the north end?” Fighting the remnants of rush-hour traffic
and cursing as he missed a turn, Elliot stopped at a traffic light in the
narrow, busy streets near the historic district of downtown Albuquerque.

“Because Route 66 runs through here,” Alys explained. “And
probably because the hotels out there were already booked. The city apparently
fills up a year in advance for the festival.” She studied her city map, checked
the GPS, and spotted the hotel before Elliot did. “Over there. It’s nearer the
Convention Center than Old Town. I don’t think Mame really wanted to revisit
the old motels. She’s picked the fanciest places she could find.”

Turning around at the light, Elliot pulled the unremarkable
Taurus up to the hotel door and popped the trunk so the valets could unload it.

Feeling much too scruffy to enter a fancy hotel, Alys
brushed a few loose bits of rainbow glitter from her hand-decorated forest-green
sweatshirt, decided her black Keds were at least clean, and she hadn’t split
any seams on her leggings. Had she known she was supposed to be a fashion
plate, she would have packed differently.

She’d known they’d booked a Hyatt and hadn’t worried about
it when she thought she was traveling with Mame. When had she become concerned
about how she looked?

The night she’d gone to bed with Elliot. The night she’d
come back to the world of the living. In these last years of grief, she’d
forgotten that the real world noticed uncombed hair and strange clothes and
people who sang to themselves in grocery stores. She’d been living inside
herself too long.

She’d probably driven Elliot crazy this past week. It was a
miracle he hadn’t left her behind somewhere along the way.

No, it wasn’t. He liked going to bed with her. He probably
figured putting up with her eccentricity was a fair price to pay.

If she had any sense at all, she’d continue to tell herself
he was that shallow. Maybe if she thought it often enough, she’d even start to
believe it. Except the path to noncommitment required a negative outlook, and
who could criticize a man like Elliot?

He stood there patiently on the sidewalk, wearing a fresh
blue chambray shirt and the Stetson and cowboy boots she’d made him buy,
looking like a movie version of every romance novel she’d ever read, while she
dallied with maps and books and an astonishing nose dive in self-esteem.

He didn’t look as if he was ashamed to be with her. He
looked as if he was contemplating what kind of bed they would share next.

She could live with that. She shouldn’t, but she could. For
now. Popping out of the front seat with a handful of guidebooks and her purse,
she smiled up at him. “How’s the heartburn?”

His eyes were grave as he looked down at her. “Your positive
vibrations apparently help.”

He was teasing of course, but that worked, too. She was
enormously nervous for some reason. “Do you think Mame is inside?”

“No, I think she’s out at the park. It takes time to set up
the balloons. If we hurry, we may get there before dusk when they light them.”
He caught her elbow and directed her into the magnificent marble lobby with its
palm trees and fountains and acres of seating.

Alys wanted to step back in awe and admire, but accustomed
to such luxury, Elliot hurried her up to the desk while the valet followed with
a luggage rack of their suitcases. Alys understood his hurry. They’d been
worrying over Mame for a week. He needed to see his aunt and make certain she
was all right.

And then what? Lucia was safe. Mame was out playing and
could make up her own mind what she wanted to do about her health. Elliot intended
to stay and monitor his aunt. Where did that leave her?

Mame had told her that she had the attitude of a California
native. She had enough cash left to go on. Not in this style, perhaps, but by
bus or maybe an economy rental car if she bought groceries and didn’t eat in
restaurants. She had the guidebooks. She wished they’d offer a guide to her
future, which was beginning to look terrifyingly empty.

Room card in hand, Elliot caught her elbow and steered her
out of her daydream. The valet led them through the maze to the elevators. What
on earth had Mame been thinking when she’d booked a luxury hotel?

She’d probably been thinking she’d meet this Jock person
here. Whoops. They could be walking in on a lover’s tryst. “Is the room in your
name or Mame’s?” Alys whispered as the elevator zoomed upward.

“She asked for adjoining rooms after she got here.” He
raised a questioning eyebrow. “Do you want to share hers or mine?”

That was putting it bluntly. Name that tune. Pick a
relationship. Alys wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Don’t get any ideas,
but I think Mame has a boyfriend and we ought to leave her alone.”

“Right.”

His flat reply didn’t sound promising, but he had a lot on
his mind. Like maybe how to get rid of an eccentric nuisance when he was tired
of her?

She thought it had been pretty plain from the start that
they’d both be going their separate ways once they found Mame. It was just a
matter of logistics after this. She’d have to make certain Mame told her about
any tests or operations so she could be there for her. Elliot wasn’t
responsible for her any longer. And she wasn’t responsible for him. She could
keep giving him positive vibrations and hope he stayed well enough to look
after Mame. Only it would have to be by long distance.

The room they entered wasn’t a suite, but it had a bed
bigger than some of the rooms they’d shared. She could happily live in a room
like this. It had a couch and chair and desk. What more could she ask for?

Elliot knocked on the door into the next room. No one
answered. He rattled the knob, but it was locked.

“Just let me hit the bathroom and I’ll be ready.” Avoiding
prolonged looks at that massive mattress, Alys dashed in to use the toilet,
then stopped at the vanity to check her hair. She desperately needed a brush.
When had she quit using cosmetics? Did she have time to rummage in her suitcase
and find a brush and powder?

Elliot had already discarded his hat and traded his boots
for expensive leather walking shoes. He wore his jacket over jeans, but the
jeans were his only concession to the man she’d known these last few days. He’d
be pulling out his computer and cell phone shortly if she didn’t hurry.

To her surprise, he was watching the television news.

“There seems to have been a riot at a tourist train depot in
the mountains,” he said dryly, watching the pictures flash across the screen.
“The reports aren’t clear, but apparently a number of semis blocked off the
depot while the drivers terrorized an entire car of tourists. They’ve arrested
a couple of them for unauthorized entry and vandalism.”

Openmouthed, Alys stared at the TV, but the announcers had
moved on to another story. “You think . . .?”

“Yeah, I think. Which means Lucia’s grandfather knows we’ve
escaped his little net.” He glanced down at her, but his eyes didn’t light with
their usual approval.

She uneasily wiggled her shoulders beneath her cheap
sweatshirt. “Well, Lucia’s safe, so he can’t do anything about it. I’m not
dressed for this, am I? I can probably find a jacket in my suitcase. Should I
look for it?” Alys grabbed her brush from her bag and ran it through her hair.

“I like your elfin look. Come on, let’s find the balloon
lighting.” Not looking at the big bed any more than she did, Elliot held the
door for her.

Elfin look? A little stunned by that description when her
head had been on a different plane, Alys hurried to keep up with Elliot’s long
stride down the corridor. “Balloon Glow, that’s what the brochure says.”

“Fancier name for it. You’ll enjoy it.” He hit the elevator
button.

After consulting with the concierge, Elliot decided to take
a taxi rather than attempt parking this late in the day.

Deliberately shutting out all thought except that of fun,
she sat forward in the taxi seat to look out the windshield. She’d spent months
anticipating Albuquerque and the Balloon Fiesta, and she intended to experience
it all. How close would they have to be to see the balloons?

“Have you ever ridden in a balloon?” she asked, spotting one
floating toward the mountains in the distance.