Blind Copy (The Technicians Series Book 5)

by Olivia Gaines

  “Oh yeah. Your Mother was a genius. I can’t wait to make my first pair of peddle- pushers,” Dusty Rose said, going back to the floor.

  Raphael had no idea what peddle-pushers were, but they seemed to make Dusty Rose happy, so he was okay with it. His eyes then went to Karli, who was back on the couch in the same two piece sweat suit he’d purchased at the roadside stand. They were going to need things, he noted as he said good morning, distracting her from the book she’d halfway finished reading.

  “Hi, Daddy! This book is soooo good,” she said, waving at him and then sticking her face between the pages. Raphael found himself bordering on disappointed when she didn’t stop reading to give him a bit of morning love. It must have shown on his face.

  Willow spoke up, “Karli, the book is not going anywhere. We can’t say the same for Mr. Hoyt.”

  “Yes, Mommy,” she said, setting the book down carefully on the couch, walking over to Raphael, and wagging her finger for him to bend down. She planted a juicy wet kiss on his cheek, repeated her morning greeting and went back to the couch.

  “Enjoy your book, Pooh Bear,” he said, looking toward the kitchen from which, he had heard the voice of correction emanate. “Good morning, Willow.”

  She greeted him wearing his shirt from yesterday and a skirt made from a piece of fabric he’d spotted on the sewing table.

  “Good Morning, Mr. Hoyt. Your breakfast is ready,” Willow said, pouring coffee into a large mug.

  “Raphael...you can call me by my given name,” he said, reaching for the cup.

  Willow pulled the cup away from his hand and extended her neck, offering her cheek for a morning kiss. Raphael took his thumb and middle finger, placing them together, and thumped her on the neck. Willow jumped and he took the cup from her hand. He took a sip of it while looking at her over the rim. She squinted her eyes at him, turning her back to pull his plate from the oven where the meal was being kept warm, sliding it onto the table.

  “Would you care for a cup of juice with that meal as well, Raphael?” she asked, squinting at him again.

  “I care whether or not this is going to be the longest Sunday of my life, being locked in here with you squinting at me like that,” he said, looking at the omelet. Two slices of crisp bacon and perfectly sliced even cut potatoes rested on the plate as well with a twisted slice of orange. It looked as if it came directly from a page on a magazine. “Whoa, this looks amazing. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Bon appétit,” she said, disappearing while he ate.

  For some odd reason, he didn’t expect it to taste as good as it did. The eggs were fluffy and nearly evaporated on his tongue. The vegetables inside of the perfectly folded omelet were tender, and the bacon was crispy, just like he liked it. Before he knew it, he’d inhaled all the food and was looking on the stove for more.

  “Shit, that’s how they get you,” he said, looking over the rim of his cup, waiting to see if either of them was watching him. He’d barely burped when Willow returned, taking his plate.

  “Did you have enough?”

  “Yes, thank you. It was very delicious.”

  “Glad you enjoyed it.”

  The silence between them filled the room. He was licked and he knew it. After a breakfast like that to get his day going, she could have a kiss on the cheek. Hell, if the woman could cook a perfect steak he would bend over and kiss her...

  “Raphael, I can read your facial expression,” she said.

  “As long as you can’t read my damned mind, we’re good,” he said, chuckling. “Get over here, Willow.”

  “Get over there for what Raphael?”

  “A warm peck on the cheek,” he said, bending down with his lips puckered. She wanted to take the bait, but couldn’t. They needed things.

  Willow accepted the kiss, then cleared her throat. “I’m so sorry to bring this up, but we need things. You know women and girl things,” she said, pressing her lips together.

  “My mother, God bless her soul, loved shopping and crafting, and if you look around, she was prepared for a rainy day on Noah’s Ark,” he said. “In the bedroom where you slept, check the dresser drawers and closets. She purchased items for my sister and niece thinking they were showing up with nothing but what they had on their backs. The drawers are loaded with unopened packs of underwear, socks, tees, and more.”

  “Okay, what about the girls?”

  “In the garage are two large bins full of clothes she was planning to make quilts out of, donate to the women’s shelter, or send to the starving children in Guatemala,” he said softly, “but she never did any of those things. There should be clothes in there to fit both girls. Let me move the bins first to make sure there are no guests hiding behind or inside of them.”

  “Guests like what? Rats?”

  “We’re near water, so watch where you step,” he said with a wink.

  Willow hated to press, but she had to, “Raphael, what if those things don’t fit, plus shoes...I don’t mean to be a pain or seem ungrateful.”

  “No worries,” he said, pulling out his wallet, selecting a credit card, and passing it to her.

  “You’re giving me your credit card?”

  “Well, yeah. You don’t expect me to take you and the girls to the Wal-Mart and the mall, do you?” he replied, looking as if he were absolutely disgusted by the idea. “Order online and have it shipped to the house.”

  Willow blinked several times then swallowed hard.

  “Honey. Husband. Raphael. Man,” she said, feeling a bit salty, “you have to try on shoes.”

  “Believe it or not, my mother has a foot sizer around here as well,” he said to her shocked face. “I don’t know why. I don’t know why she bought half the shit she bought! Most of it, I have no idea what to do with and that’s why I hadn’t gotten rid of the stuff.”

  Willow’s facial expression softened. “Maybe she was collecting all of that stuff because she’s been expecting us. She’s been expecting your family.”

  “What?”

  She winked back at him and poked him in the belly with her index finger, leaving him to stand in the floor, watching her bottom as she sauntered to the sink to wash the dishes.

  “I have no idea what just happened, but I’ll be in the garage,” he said, deactivating the alarm and going down the inside stairs.

  PRODERICK HYMN HANDLED his anger like most things in his world, slow, methodical, and well timed. He’d known for months of Kindred’s sniveling, sneaking, and snorting falsehoods behind his back in an effort to take over his flock. A small-minded man did that sort of thing, versus leaving the flock and starting his own herd. Why didn’t he simply leave? Now, Proderick was left with only one option—to take the man’s life in front of the few followers who remained.

  The dust settled among the compound after the government agents had departed the property, no doubt in search of Proderick. Very few people knew of the cabin high in the hills. Only a chosen few were permitted on the site, and those were only his wives. None of the men in the tribe knew of its location.

  He had arrived well after the government agents were gone. Only two wives remained as well as three of his 14 children. Theodore, a steadfast soldier, stood ready to report.

  “Hymn, we don’t know what happened,” he said with wide eyes. “I was out all night looking for Karli, who I lost at a roadside stop...”

  “What?” Hymn asked, his eyes squinted, trying to force more understanding. “Please explain to me why my daughter was not on these grounds?”

  “Kindred. He told me to take her to the motel site for date night with a high roller. He said you okayed it to add money to the coffers since we had gotten so low. The man paid like 20 grand for her,” Theodore said, feeling pride in his words.

  “My daughter, you drove to a pedophile, for 20 grand at the word of Kindred?” Hymn asked again for clarification.

  “Yessuh. I did as Kindred directed me to do in your absence.”

  Theodore’s last wor
ds were halted in his throat as Hymn drove a knife straight through his heart. Theodore’s wife, a silly woman with wild raven hair, didn’t balk, scream, or seem shocked. Immediately, she stepped over her dead husband and came to Hymn’s side.

  “Where is Kindred?” Hymn asked the woman.

  “The men in dark suits put him in the back of one of the vehicles,” Theodore’s widow informed the charismatic leader. “Funny thing was, Hymn, Kindred wasn’t in cuffs when they put him in the back seat.”

  “How many did I lose?”

  “All but what stands before you. This is our way of life and this we will rebuild,” she promised, ready to do anything the man asked. Once before she’d disappointed Hymn and Letty was given to Theodore as a wife last year. She hated Theodore and was glad he was dead. The man never listened. The joy of being rid of his stinking mouth made her nearly dance.

  “Willow and Dusty Rose?” Hymn asked Letty, although he knew the answer.

  “I’m sorry, Hymn. We went to the creek to do laundry, and then all hell broke loose. People were running left and right, and honestly, I don’t know what happened to them.”

  Hymn knew.

  They escaped.

  Escaped from his world.

  He would get them back.

  His hands reached deep into a great deal of pockets and if not the pockets, he held enough photographs of debauching men, performing debauching acts with underage girls. Willow, Dusty Rose, and Karli would be found. Of that he was certain.

  But first, he needed to sink his knife into Kindred’s heart; then he’d find the man who took his family and sink a blade into his.

  “It’s quite alright, Letty. On this rock I shall build my church,” he said, holding out his hand for the followers to genuflect in front of and kiss.

  Chapter Six – Facsimile

  RAPHAEL CARRIED FOUR rubber bins loaded with women’s, missy, girl’s clothing to the patio, one by one. Each container was emptied onto the decking and pushed about with the end of a cane fishing pole to ensure no unwanted tenants had moved into the bin as a squatter. Finally, with the last one out, Raphael was ready to go down and work on his vehicle. The list in his head of things to do before Monday morning rolled in grew incrementally with each step he took.

  Ammunition. Check.

  Leather gloves. Check.

  Dark eye shades. Cracked. Need a new pair.

  Burner phone. Down one, given to Willow. Maybe Dusty needed one as well. Extra burner phones in downstairs office. If Dusty gets one, Karli is going to want one too. Just flipping dandy, I’m in the middle of trying to put a bullet in a man’s head, and I get a phone call about goddamn unicorns. What is my life coming to? Is this what Mr. Mann, Stop, and Yield have to deal with? Maybe I should pay them a visit and ask some questions. Maybe not. They aren’t staying.

  I want them to stay.

  Who the fuck said that?

  Raphael hadn’t left the patio when he looked around and gasped. Dusty Rose was trying on the clothing. She’d stripped down to what he barely considered to be underpants and no bra, and was basically naked, outside, where everyone could see the developing teenage body.

  “Good God, child, what in the hell are you doing? Put your clothes back on this instant,” he said, making her jump. She fumbled with the clothing, trying to get a dress on over her head to cover her body. The tone of his voice brought Willow running, but she didn’t enter the patio but stood hidden behind a curtain to hear what the new “daddy” had to say.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy. I wanted to try on the clothes,” she said, her bottom lip quivering. “There are so many pretty things. I’ve never seen so many clothes in such bright colors.”

  “I understand, Dusty, but look over your shoulder,” he said, pointing at the shrubbery between the two houses. For years, he’d been promising to put up a privacy fence to divide the properties which were too close for comfort and in the line of sight for prying eyes. One set of eyes had already come forward.

  “Hey-O, Hoyt-O!” Jeb Malone called out. “Whatcha got going on over there, some kind of naked party? She looks kind of young for an old man like you.”

  “Jeb, this is my oldest daughter Dusty,” Raphael replied, surprised by the sincerity in his own voice. “She forgets that this house does not have the same privacy as the one in Malibu.”

  “Malibu? You have a house in...wait a minute. Did you say oldest daughter? That implies that you have more than one. When did you get kids? Hey, you have to have a woman to have kids,” Jeb said, rubbing his Dr. Seuss’s Sneetch-like belly as if he were trying to digest the newly acquired knowledge.

  Willow stepped from behind the curtain. She walked over to Raphael, slipping her arms around his waist. For good measure, she looked up at him, puckering up for a kiss on the lips. He was close to thumping her on the mouth, but instead, leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

  Karli ran out, happy to see her new Daddy and Mommy getting along so well, but also spotting the clothing, began to strip down to try on a tee shirt she spotted in the pile. All of those clothes folded and haphazardly strewn about the deck including shirts, pants, skirts, blouses, and Raphael lamented that the child managed to locate the one molly-hopping tee shirt with a unicorn on it.

  “Dang blasted, Karli, get in the house. We’ll bring the clothes inside,” Raphael said, giving Willow a squeeze, asking her to help the girls.

  Not only had Jeb come out of shrubbery on the left, but Stanley Hickson materialized on the right side.

  “Well look at what we have here. Raphael Hoyt has a family and kids. Your Momma never said anything about a wife and children,” Jeb said, looking from Dusty to Karli, to Raphael. “You have older children. Where them kids come from, Hoyt?”

  “Good grief, you two are worse than gossiping old women,” Raphael said. “Dusty Rose is from a previous relationship and Karli is with my...wife Willow here.”

  “Wife! Well slap my neck and call over a vampire! My carotid is pumping a ton of blood to my old brain. Welcome to the Daddy club,” Stanley Hickson, MD, said. “Hey, how old is Dusty? My boy Stan Jr. can show her around the island. He’s about 15. No driver’s license, but he has an ATV and a beach cruiser.”

  “Thanks, both of you,” Raphael replied, waving at the meddlesome men and urging his family inside. Nothing had gone as expected today, and he was bordering on shaking a full-sized body until a set of teeth rattled.

  “Hey-O, Hoyt-O, my wife would love to know there’s a hen over in this house. You know for recipe swaps and the like,” Jeb said.

  “My wife would too. They get so bored during the off season,” Stanley said.

  “Maybe your wives should keep each other company,” Hoyt said, pushing his family inside. “Have a great day!”

  “We are grilling later if you want to swing over,” Stanley offered.

  “I was going to invite them all over to my house,” Jeb said, angered that Stanley had beat him to the punch.

  Raphael didn’t plan to go to either home. His intentions were to take care of his vehicle and restock his supplies, which should be fine considering he hadn’t actually worked, worked in two weeks. That bit of knowledge also meant that on Monday, he was going to have to hit the road.

  His family wasn’t ready for his departure.

  He had so much to tell and show them before he was called away. Tonight, he had planned to take them out on the boat for a sunset sail, but based on his day, none of that was going to happen. He’d be lucky to get them to not strip buck naked in the living room when trying on clothes.

  His luck ran out.

  All three of them were bare tits in the wind, trying on clothes. Unfortunately for him, his eyes lingered too long on the mochaccino form of Willow, causing him to inhale sharply before turning his back to close the blinds.

  “Shit, I’ll be in the garage,” he mumbled, releasing the cording of the blinds and easing away.

  UNDER HIS BREATH, HE grumbled as he worked, applying the scratch remover,
working it into to the deep grooves, and praying the Tahoe didn’t need a complete paint job. So far, so good. Raphael’s focus changed from the three bodies upstairs, Willow’s ebony skin, and Karli finding a unicorn tee shirt in all that clothing. The garage door was up, and he broke into a decent sweat, working for hours on end and losing track of time.

  “Daddy?” a soft voice called out, making Raphael look up. “I’m sorry.”

  He stepped back from the largest scratch, pleased with his work, looking around to see who was speaking to him. Dusty Rose stood in a pair of flip flops and an orange skirt with a matching top. The color flattered her skin tone and brought out the natural highlights in the reddish orange hair. She was in fact a lovely young lady that he didn’t want the likes of Stan Jr. putting his grubby little paws on.

  “Sorry for what, Punkin Puss?”

  “Disrespecting you by undressing in your presence. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” she said, looking down at her feet. “I don’t want to mess this up for us.”

  “You’re lying through your teeth, Dusty, because the three of you stripped down in the living room, and I’d barely gotten inside of the house,” he said in a firm tone. “Biologically, we both know I’m not your father, therefore, you should look at me like you would any other man because I am a man. I think like a man, and I have the working parts of a man.”

  “Does that mean I’m in danger from you, like the men who came to the compound on Friday nights? Like that Kindred man who every time he looked at me his pants stuck out in the front?” she asked, with wide eyes.

  Raphael held up his hands.

  “No, you are in no danger from me, not now, not ever,” he said. “Although you are not mine by blood, in my heart, you’re my oldest daughter. Don’t ask me when that happened, but well, shit, it happened.”

  “Teach me,” she said.

  His eyes were wide. “Teach you what?”

  Dusty Rose jutted out her chin, speaking in a very sure tone, “Teach me to protect myself, Daddy. Teach me how to read the intentions of men with working parts so I fight back and know a snake is in the grass even though I can’t see it. I heard the women in the workhouses talking about this place called College. I want to go there and learn. I want to go to school and parks and have friends my age, but I don’t want to be stupid about the real world. Teach me how to survive in it so I can make you proud as your daughter.”