Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2) (15 page)

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Graciella loved Cluny’s muscled arm around her shoulders in the darkened movie theatre. He alternately squeezed and hugged her as he doubled over with laughter. She couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun in the company of a man. He was relaxed and natural with Santos, enjoying his happy giggles and sharing the jumbo popcorn tub her son held. Anyone who saw them together would assume they were a family.

Still grinning and laughing as they exited the movie, she placed herself between them. They joined hands and walked across the parking lot.

“Let’s go to my house and get Queen.” Cluny put the key in the door lock on his old Pontiac. He pushed the driver’s seat forward so Santos could crawl into the back then he walked around the front with her and opened the passenger door. His hand drifted down her back as she slid onto the seat. Her breath caught at his intimate touch.

He took his seat behind the steering wheel.

Santos leaned forward. “How come your car doesn’t have a remote lock?”

Cluny shifted in his seat so he could see her son’s face. “This old gal is fourteen years older than me. They didn’t have fancy remote control locks in the olden days.”

“How old are you Macfearsome?”

“Thirty-two.”

Graciella could tell from Santos’s expression that he was working out the numbers in his head. She thought she’d die when he said, “Mama is older than you, aren’t you, Mama?”

She slapped her hands on her hot cheeks and groaned.

Cluny grasped one of her wrists, pulled her hand to his mouth, and kissed her knuckles. “I’ve always had a thing for old houses, old cars, and older women.”

“Mama will be thirty-five on her next birthday, in November.”

How much worse could it get? Santos telling her age, and Cluny chuckling at his revelations. “Why don’t you tell Mr. McPherson my weight, Santos?”

“I would, but I don’t know it.”

By now Cluny was laughing out loud, tears sparkling on his lower lids.

Santos touched her shoulder. “Did I make a good joke?”

Through his choking laughter, Cluny said, “You’re the best, Santos.” He pulled Graciella to his side and whispered in her ear, “I love your kid.”

He loves my kid
. She believed him, because nothing he’d ever said or done had the least bit of phoniness about it. From the moment they’d met on the beach he’d spoken to Santos in a quiet, respectful, manly way. Never a single note of patronization in his voice. That was rare in a grown man. Adults could be very dismissive of children. She was guilty of it herself from time to time. Especially if she was rushed, stressed, or tired.

Even when Cluny had briefly slipped into his violent past at the beach that day, he’d spoken kindly to Amber and Santos. He’d chosen to separate himself from the children for a while and walked away. She couldn’t imagine what kind of self-control it took for him to cope.

It wouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes for him to retrieve his dog from the big house. “No, Santos, stay in the car. We’ll see the house tomorrow.” She’d barely spoken the words when Queen came bounding to the car ahead of Cluny. “There she is.”

Cluny held her hand, stroking her knuckles with his thumb, all the way across the pass back to Chatsworth. Every now and then he glanced at her and smiled. She was certain she’d see his sexy smile in her dreams all night.

The man she was beginning to think of as
her
man escorted them to their apartment door, kissed her goodnight, and shook hands with Santos.

“See you tomorrow,” he called and waved good-bye. He’d no more than disappeared around the corner of the stairs than the porch light went off outside her apartment. Heart thudding in her throat, she grabbed Santos’s shoulder and pulled him a few steps away from the door.

His voice quavered, “Is somebody in our house?”

She stepped in front of him to shield him from whom, she didn’t know. “Maybe the light bulb burned out.”

“I’ll run and catch Macfearsome.”

“No. It’s probably just the light bulb. I don’t…” Her pulse raced when a shadow passed in front of the peephole.

The door opened a crack and Krystal whispered, “Come in, quick.” She stepped back and waved them inside.

Graciella looked around, fear crawling up her back and neck. She tugged Santos’s arm and they entered the dimly lit apartment. “Krystal, what are you doing here?”

On a choking sob, her sister-in-law answered, “I’m hiding from Jamal.”

Santos gripped his mother’s hand, confusion and fear in his voice. “What’d he do?”

Graciella placed a hand on her son’s back. “Please go to your room and close the door, honey. I need to speak to your aunt privately.”

“But, Mama…”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Please don’t argue with me. Go to your room and close the door.”

Santos dropped his chin and dragged his feet down the hall. Before he closed his door he glanced back, anger mixed with worry on his face.

Graciella turned on the stereo, the sound a little higher than she normally would have this late at night. She pointed to the kitchen, the furthest point in the apartment from her son’s bedroom, and tilted her head for Krystal to follow her.

Leaning on the counter, she racked her brain. “Krystal, I’m sorry for your distress, but you have to go home. You can’t be here.”

“No! That’s the first place he’ll look for me.”

“And this is the second. Why are you bringing this trouble to our door?” She paced, hands on her cheeks. “How did you get in here? I know I locked the door when we left.”

“I took Mom’s key. A friend dropped me off. Jamal doesn’t know where I am. I have to stay here. He threatened me.” Tears sparkled in the young woman’s eyes and softened Graciella’s heart.

She asked for her key then said, “Have you called your parents? Do they know where you are?”

“It’s better if they don’t know where I am.”

“You should at least send them a text message. If he’s been there looking for you they’re probably worried. Maybe they’re in danger?”

Shaking her head, Krystal seated herself on one of the barstools. “They don’t do texting. They’d never think to look for a text.” The tears that threatened earlier began to slide down her cheeks. “Jamal’s not who I thought he was when we first met.”

“Krystal, what do you want to do? What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know.” She got up paced the room.

Graciella debated with herself. Should she say what she’d thought all along? She’d brought this on herself. Once a beautiful, unspoiled young woman, she’d turned into a bitter, preachy racist, angry at everything and everyone. What good would it do to bring that up now? They needed to think of a way to diffuse the situation.

“Did you consider calling the police?”

“He didn’t actually do anything, not much anyway, he threatened me.”

“How? What did he say?”

“He’ll kill me if I ever touched his computer again.”

“His computer?” Graciella couldn’t understand what Krystal meant. “What about his computer? Did you see something there you weren’t supposed to see?” She squeezed her eyes closed for a second and went to the sink for a glass of water. She didn’t want to be involved in this. She didn’t want Santos exposed to this.

“He…uh…could I have some water too?”

Graciella gave her the glass she’d intended for herself. She spotted movement at the end of the hallway. “Santos! Stay in your room, please.” She raised her hand so Krystal remained silent until his door clicked shut.

“Why were you on his computer?”

“I wasn’t snooping, I swear. I wanted to Google the new dress catalog I was in to see if it had been published yet.”

“I don’t see anything so bad about that. Why was he upset?”

“His search history came up when I typed
catalog.
He’d been looking at websites for weapons catalogs and bomb making techniques.”

Graciella closed her eyes. “Oh, good God!”

“I didn’t open any of the sites. He caught me and yanked the laptop out of my hands so hard and fast that it tore off some of my nails.” She held up her hand, showing Graciella the missing acrylic nails. Krystal grabbed a handful of tissues and mopped her face, ruining her makeup, or what was left of it.

Graciella whispered, “You’ve brought this to us, and you’ve put your nephew in peril. You have to leave here. Do you have a friend you can stay with? I’ll drive you there or call a taxi. If Jamal’s looking for you, he’s likely to come here. I will not take that risk. I can’t, Krystal.” She handed her the cell phone. “Call somebody. I’m sorry, but you have to think of Santos’s safety.”

“Graciella, please. My friends…most of my friends dropped me when I started dating Jamal. They don’t like him and they don’t want him around.”

“Can you blame them? This is all your doing, Krystal.” She poured another glass of water and drank it down, taking her time to think. Setting the glass in the sink, she went to her small desk and retrieved the book she kept there with the names and numbers of her students and local services she used. She tapped in a number.

Alarm covered Krystal’s face. “Who are you calling?” she screeched.

“I’m calling a taxi. If you don’t want me to do that, I’ll call the police.”

“Wait! Let me think. There may be somebody. I’ll think of somebody.”

Graciella set the phone down and waited.

Finally, Krystal took the phone. “I left my purse and phone when I ran. I hope I can remember Uncle Ollie’s number.” She tapped, stopped, erased, then tapped again.

Uncle Ollie? Graciella had no idea who that was. She was sure she’d remember a name like Ollie.

Her sister-in-law drew in a sharp breath. “Chief? This is Krystal. I’m sorry to call so late. No, no, they’re fine. I need your help. Could you come and get me?” She paused for a split second then said, “I’m at my sister-in-law’s apartment. She lives in Chatsworth.” She recited Graciella’s address. “Thank you, Uncle Ollie. I’ll explain everything when you come for me. I love you too. Twenty minutes? OK, I’ll be waiting.” She clicked off and set the phone back on the counter and pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob.

Graciella knew Chief. She couldn’t remember ever hearing him referred to as Uncle Ollie. She’d seen him frequently over the years, first in San Diego and then after he and his wife moved to Thousand Oaks to manage their son’s property. Retired Navy Chief Williams was an old friend of Earl’s.

She put her hand on Krystal’s arm. “Do you need anything? Clothes, toiletries? You can borrow what you need. Shall I get a bag?”

Instead of answering, Krystal fell into her arms sobbing. There was no mistaking how terrified she was. Graciella’s heart ached for her and the trouble she’d walked into. “It’s OK. Chief and Lu will look after you. I’m sure everything will be straightened out soon. Come to my room. We’ll gather a few things to hold you over until you can return home.”

She put her arm around her sister-in-law’s shoulders and took her to the bedroom across the hall from Santos’s. Selecting a blouse, sweater, and pair of jeans, Krystal placed them and a pair of white panties in a shopping bag. Graciella found an extra brush and comb and a jar of moisturizer she hadn’t opened yet. “Take this. I’ve been using it ever since you posed for their print ads. I have enough for a while.” She didn’t offer any makeup because her sister-in-law was beautiful without it.

“Can I say goodnight to Santos? I should apologize for the way I acted last time I was here.”

“Go ahead, but leave the door open. I’m sure he’s still awake. Please, avoid telling him details.” She crossed the hall and rapped on her son’s door. “Santos? Auntie Krystal would like to talk to you.”

He opened the door dressed in pajamas and still showing insult on his young face. “OK, what?”

Krystal asked him if she could come in to his room to speak privately. She glanced at Graciella with a silent question in her eyes before going inside.

Graciella returned to the kitchen and turned off the stereo then filled the teapot and set it to boil. She’d make Santos a cup of hot chocolate to help him go to sleep once his aunt was gone. She sighed and shook her head, wondering why people walked right into difficult situations they could easily avoid.

The pot rumbled at the same time she heard a tap on the front door. She turned off the stove and peeked out to see who was there. They hadn’t turned on the outside light after entering and it was pitch-black. She held her breath and snapped it on, recognized Chief Williams, and let him inside.

“Come in, Chief. You’re Krystal’s knight in shining armor tonight. She’s talking to Santos. Let’s go to the kitchen and have a seat.”

He followed her. “Is she all right? Lillian is probably wringing her hands with worry.”

“She’s fine physically, but she’s got herself in a tight corner. She needs a safe haven and some stern advice.” She pointed to a chair and took the one across from him. “You’re the man for the job, I think.”

“I’ll call the wife and tell her not to worry.” The grizzled old Navy Chief took out an old-fashioned flip phone and tapped. He rolled his eyes when his wife answered. “She’s fine, Lu. I’ll be home in about an hour. Go to bed and we’ll talk in the morning.”

He hung up and smiled at Graciella. “She’ll still be pacing when we get there.”

“How long have you and Lu been married, Chief?”

He winked. “Forty-five wonderful years.”

She squinched her nose. “Wait a minute, that can’t be right. I remember your forty-fifth anniversary. That was a couple of years ago.”

“Forty five wonderful years out of forty-seven ain’t bad. The woman is driving me to distraction. I had to go get me a job so’s I’d have an excuse to get out of the house.”

She laughed because she knew Chief adored his wife. “Doesn’t managing your son’s property get you out enough?”

“Nah. I fixed everything that needed doing, and some that didn’t. Collecting rent doesn’t take that long. Retirement is not for me.” He looked up. “Ah, here’s my goddaughter.” Krystal walked into his outstretched arms.

Santos followed her and shook hands with him. “Hello, Chief.”