Broken Build: Silicon Valley Romantic Suspense

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Broken Build: Silicon Valley Romantic Suspense Page 26

by Rachelle Ayala


  After visiting a few high-end shops, he settled on his purchase. He had just exited the store when a child’s cry drew his attention. A little girl pounded on a pair of closed elevator doors. Dave looked at the rising glass elevator. A frantic woman was slapping on the glass. He grabbed the girl’s hand and waved to the woman, trying to assure her he’d hold onto her and wait for her to come down.

  A uniformed security guard eyed him and strode over, his hand over a stun-gun. “Is there a problem here?”

  “No. See? She’s coming down.” He pointed to the elevator which began its descent.

  The girl jumped up and down. “Tia, Tia!”

  The woman waved back. The girl was probably not Abby. She looked entirely Filipino. The door opened and the woman ran toward Dave. “Emily, what did Tia tell you about holding hands?”

  The woman knelt and kissed the girl. She raised her head to glance at Dave, her face right in front of the Victoria’s Secret bag. “Thank you for holding onto her. She was with me one moment and then the door closed.”

  Dave squatted down to their level and moved the bag behind his back. “Glad I could help.”

  The woman offered her hand. “I’m Vera and this is my niece, Emily. Emily, say thank you to the nice man. Your name?”

  He took her hand. “Dave.”

  “Thank you.” Emily piped in.

  The woman smiled and hugged Emily.

  Dave glanced at his cell. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”

  Vera looked teasingly at his shopping bag. “Girlfriend or wife?”

  The answer caught in his throat. “Maybe, neither.”

  “Ah, I get it. It’s for your mother. Or maybe a sister, or cousin. Have you had lunch?”

  “I wanna cinnamon roll,” Emily said.

  “After lunch, sweetie. Let’s ask Mr. Dave to have lunch with us since he saved you from being lost.”

  Emily tugged Dave’s hand. “I want a hot dog on a stick.”

  Dave chuckled. “How’d you guess? My favorite.”

  They headed back up the elevator to the third floor. Emily insisted on holding both Dave’s and Vera’s hands. “See, I’m holding hands with two grown-ups. I’m safe now.”

  He swung Emily’s hand as she skipped between them. A lump rose in his throat. Was this how it would have felt to hold Abby’s hand? To have her running and jumping next to him? To hear her happy voice squeal with delight?

  “So, what do you do?” Vera asked Dave.

  He looked around. No cell phone cameras were trained on him. “Let’s just say I’m in stealth mode.”

  “Oh, a mystery man. You know, I love mysteries.” Vera gave him a sidelong glance.

  She stood close to him while they ordered and pulled out her wallet to pay. Dave pushed a twenty at the cashier, but Vera shook her head and pouted.

  Dave bent and whispered in her ear. “It’s for Emily.”

  He carried the tray to a small table and pulled a chair for Vera. Then he picked up Emily and placed her on a chair. The familiar pressure under his ribs tugged his heart. What would it be like to hold his little girl and take her to the park, ride on a roller coaster with her screaming in his ear? Or having her kiss him and say, ‘Good night, Daddy.’

  Emily bounced up and down. “Tia, where’s my cinnamon roll?”

  Vera unwrapped the hot dog on the stick. “Later, pumpkins.”

  “Ah…” Emily gave Dave a pleading look.

  “I’ll get them,” Dave volunteered. “Do you want anything? A coffee?”

  “Oh, you don’t have to. She needs to learn patience. I’ll—” She looked toward the cinnamon roll stand but made no move, probably hesitant to leave Dave alone with her niece.

  Dave stood. “Let me get them, serious.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t.” Vera opened her purse and took out her wallet again.

  Dave pressed her hand. “My treat, for Emily?”

  Vera blushed. Her gaze moved from Dave’s hand to his face. “Then I owe you a home cooked dinner. You haven’t lived until you try my pancit malabon.”

  “Oysters or shrimp?” Dave loved the Filipino noodle dish filled with a potpourri of delectable tidbits.

  “Both.” She raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re not a pancit virgin?”

  “Throw in the turon, and you’re on.”

  Jocelyn made a wicked turon, a fried banana dessert filled with a burnt sugar coating like crème brulee. She’d always surprise him with the filling, whether rolled in jackfruit, coconut, mango, or even cream cheese.

  Vera made a sucking sound. “For you, I’ll make them extra thick and creamy.”

  “My cinnamon rolls,” Emily whined.

  “Just a minute, cupcake.” Vera grabbed Dave’s cell from his other hand. “I’ll call myself so you’ll have my number.”

  “Sure.” He hurried to the cinnamon roll stand.

  At the front of the line, a cell phone played Jennifer Lopez’s ringtone.

  Chapter 32

  Jen’s phone sang “I’m Into You,” and Dave’s number flashed on the screen. She hurriedly answered it to cut off the music while the teenage boy behind her snickered. Praveena moved to the front of the line and put in their order.

  A woman’s voice spoke, “Oops, sorry. I must have hit redial.”

  “Sure, no problem.” Jen ended the call. He certainly hadn’t wasted any time. She wouldn’t put out and less than twelve hours later, he found another girlfriend.

  Praveena handed her a latte. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She sipped a little too fast, burning her tongue. “My ankle’s sore. Let’s get the rental car.”

  Why did she believe she was special? He had sounded so sincere when all he wanted was sex. Dave may be a lost soul, but let someone else rescue him. All that mattered now was Abby.

  “Hey, Jen!” A female voice chirped. “Over here.”

  Vera Custodio waved from a table in the food court. Out of the corner of her eye, Jen spied Dave carrying a tray. He stopped in midstride and looked from Jen to Vera. A little girl ran up to Dave. “My cinnamon roll.”

  Vera bounced from her seat and approached. Jen turned so quickly she almost tripped Praveena. Hot coffee splattered her hand. Vera tugged her. “Come sit with us. I found some of your things while cleaning Rey’s room.”

  Prickles frizzed over Jen’s shoulders. Why would her things be in Rey’s room? She followed Vera to the table with Praveena in tow. Jen steeled herself. Dave was not the right kind of man for her, no matter how much he made her heart sizzle.

  Dave kept his eyes on the little girl. He set the tray in front of her and sat across from her. They played a game of picking the cinnamon dust off the roll and dabbing it on the tip of the tongue. Fine, she’d pretend she didn’t know him either. She hoped Praveena would follow on cue.

  “Oh, Vera,” Jen said. “This is Praveena.”

  Vera gave Praveena a finger wave. “My niece, Emily, and the mystery man, Dave.”

  Praveena’s eyes widened briefly, but she gave nothing away in her quick smile.

  “Dave, this is Jen,” Vera said. “She was my brother’s girlfriend.”

  Dave stopped playing with the cinnamon roll. His eyes darted toward her, and he nodded.

  Jen waved, unable to decipher his poker face. “Nice to meet you.”

  A red and pink Victoria’s Secret bag sat under his chair. Jen ground the insides of her cheeks. Buying Vera lingerie already? Asshole.

  Vera pulled chairs from a nearby table, seemingly oblivious to the awkwardness. She put her hand on Dave’s shoulder and gave him the phone. “My number’s on the top. You free tonight?”

  “No, sorry. How about I call you?” Dave slid the phone into his pocket.

  Vera leaned forward and licked her lips. “You sure? Fresh oysters have limited shelf life.”

  “I’ll take a rain check.”

  Vera swiveled toward Jen. “You wanna come over? Bring your friend.”

  Jen looked at Praveena. �
�Do you have to work?”

  “I might.” Praveena glanced at Dave. “Satish and I have a meeting.”

  “Bring him too.” Vera cocked an eyebrow. “You won’t want to miss my turroooonnn!”

  Emily clapped her hands. “I want to help.”

  Vera tapped her face. “Lamb cheeks, you can wrap but no frying.”

  “Papa always let me.”

  Vera’s lips thinned. “Papa wanted you to be safe.”

  “Then how come he didn’t look before crossing the street?” Emily crossed her arms and pouted.

  A rush of realization hit Jen. Emily was Rey’s daughter. Vera must have been looking after Rey’s daughter while he was in Iraq. But where was her mother? She glanced at Dave who looked flustered and tugged his collar.

  Vera pointed to the ceiling of the mall. “He’s looking at you now. Remember you almost got lost and this nice man helped you? That’s Papa looking out for you.”

  “Daddy too?”

  “Yes, Daddy and Papa both.” She kissed Emily. “Now, plum-bunny, these nice people probably have a lot of shopping to do, so say thank you and wave bye-bye.”

  Vera arranged the trash on the tray. “See you guys around six? I’ll call Lola and tell her you’re coming.”

  Lola, Rey’s mother, had liked Jen and taken her side when Rodrigo dumped her. What would she say to her? Rey’s death was still too fresh and the pain too raw. And Vera was trying too hard to appear cheerful.

  “Sure, yeah. Well, nice meeting you, Dave, Emily.” Jen gave a half-hearted wave. “Six sounds fine.”

  Dave stood, his Adam’s apple bobbled. He looked like he was about to say something, but instead he turned his attention to clearing the trash.

  Emily popped a thumb into her mouth and opened and closed her hand. She had two fathers? No wonder Rey had said it was complicated.

  * * *

  Dave bade Emily and Vera a hasty farewell and hurried after Jen.

  “Hey, you left your bag,” Vera called.

  He lengthened his stride and pretended he didn’t hear her. Vera had to be Rey Custodio’s sister. He hadn’t missed the reference to Jen being her brother’s ex-girlfriend. And the little girl had two fathers? Not really surprising these days.

  He caught Jen at the entrance to the parking structure. “Look, we have to talk.”

  “I’m sorry, what was your name again?” Jen kept walking.

  He circled around and blocked her. “I can explain.”

  “I’m really not interested in what a complete asshole has to say.” She brushed past him and tugged Praveena. “Let’s get out of here. The rental counter might give my car away.”

  Dave stepped in front of them. “Jen, I can’t figure out why you’re acting this way.”

  “Call Sheila, Lisa or Melissa and buy a clue.”

  A uniformed security guard swung a stick. “Are we having a problem here?” He narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t you the child molester?”

  Dave gulped at the unjust accusation. The officer moved between him and the ladies. Dave raised his palms. “I was just leaving.”

  “Sure you were. No shopping bags. Came to the mall to stroll. Now get out of here.”

  Dave walked to his car without looking back, his chest flushed with embarrassment. Pain pressed his temples like the jaws of a vise. How could he convince Jen he wasn’t putting the moves on Vera? Okay, so she was cute and probably cooked a mean pancit. She was also a blatant flirt, and he had enjoyed the attention. But Jen had misunderstood, and he’d been a fool to play along. He should have kissed her in front of everyone, marked her as his. Yeah, right, that kind of thing only worked in the movies.

  He drove out of the parking structure, aimless. November in the Bay Area burst with color—crimson Chinese pistachio trees, golden yellow elms, and orange liquidambars contrasting with dark green pines. He hated the fall colors.

  Abby had been kidnapped in November. He pulled over to the roadside, unable to drive. Waves of despair crashed over him, and his chest heaved with increased tension, as if his lungs were a drum skin unable to absorb life-giving oxygen.

  The prepaid cell jingled.

  Oh, God, what else? He answered it.

  An electronically altered voice said. “Look in your mailbox. No police. Remember, your girlfriend has to deliver.” The call ended.

  Dave banged his head on the steering wheel. His vision darkened and the lies and stories he told himself to stay sane tumbled down. He would never get Abby back. He wasn’t a successful entrepreneur, irresistible to women. He was a sinful asshole. Jen had him pegged.

  Dave, you’re a sissy, can’t take a beating. Other men have lost more and bounced back. Jocelyn can’t see you. And if she could, she pities you. Abby’s gone. They’re toying with you. Accept it, she’s probably dead. But you’re too much of a baby to admit it, making up Rambo fantasies to rescue her.

  He blocked out the negative talk, the voice of his critical father, a Vietnam War veteran who never flinched, never talked about his tour, and never appeared weak.

  Dave needed more air. He opened the door and knelt at the side of the road. Sweat mingled with tears poured down his face.

  Oh God, help me. I’m broken, so damn broken and I don’t know what to do. I’ve sinned and left You out of my life. Why have You broken my bones, my heart and my spirit? Taken everyone I love and left me alone? Forgive my sins and restore to me the joy of my salvation. Strengthen me and show me the way I should take. If Abby is out there, bring her back to me. If not, let me learn to let her go. Help me to live again, and let me have a chance at happiness.

  Dave wept.

  The sun had gone down. He drove toward his house and turned slowly into his driveway. The camera crews had left. The lone security guard sat in his car and waved.

  Dave extracted a small envelope from the mailbox. He walked back to the guard’s car. Nope, the guard had not seen anyone. He stepped into the house and tore open the envelope. A baggie with a hairbrush dropped out. A few strands of long dark-brown hair lay tangled in the brush. A note read: The build better be good. No police.

  Dave walked into the guest room and slumped in the bed where Jen had slept. The bloody towels lay on the floor. First he’d find a DNA lab and order a paternity test, then he'd better get the code ready. He rubbed his eyes, needing a drink. But he couldn’t be weak, not for Abby.

  He glanced at the clock. Jen was probably at Vera’s. He dialed her cell anyway. As expected, it went to voicemail. “Jen, the kidnappers dropped off the DNA. Please call me.”

  * * *

  Jen rang the bell at Vera and Lola’s house. Praveena had begged off to attend a meeting with Satish to go over the test plan for the auto-update feature. Now that the launch was successful, they’d have to respond with more features, and the ability to update the software remotely was crucial.

  Vera swung the door open and called for Lola who greeted Jen with a kiss on both cheeks. Jen stepped in and took off her shoes. Emily rushed over to show Jen a crayon drawing of her two fathers in Heaven. The one who was supposed to be Rey had a scowling face and black wings, whereas the other man had white wings and a jolly smile.

  After the flurry of greetings, Lola, Vera and Emily went back to the kitchen. Jen wandered around the living room full of pictures. There were pictures of Rey, Rodrigo and Vera from childhood onwards, their high school graduation pictures and of course Rey’s military portrait. One album was full of baby pictures. Vera was the oldest, and Rod was the youngest. Emily rode a tricycle in one picture flanked by Vera and Rodrigo. Rey must have been at war.

  Vera came up behind her and handed her a can of soda. “Mama keeps all the pictures. If you ask her, she’d pull you in all night.”

  “I was just wondering,” Jen said. “I mean about Rey. I never knew he was… um… well, that way. Was that why he was discharged?”

  Vera placed a hand on her hip. “Rey had delusions. I think the war made him paranoid.”

  “Have they found who
killed him?”

  “No.” She blinked and wiped the corner of her eye. “The three perps who kidnapped you told contradictory stories. And now they have lawyers, so no one’s talking.”

  Jen put her arm over Vera’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I brought this up. Really.”

  Vera picked up a picture of Emily and Rod at a petting zoo and touched Rod’s face. “It’s okay. Mama won’t talk, so we don’t watch the news or go on the internet. She’s trying to act as if everything’s normal and pressuring me to get married.”

  Tears glistened from Vera’s eyes, and she slumped onto the couch. Jen’s cell vibrated. It was Dave, so she ignored it.

  “I can’t think who’d want to kill either of them,” Vera said. “I mean, Rey had his rough edges, but Rod had no enemies. He was kind of a recluse, hung around his scrapyard and had a few friends.”

  Cold tingles vibrated on her scalp. “Did you know any of them?”

  “Not really.” Vera wiped her eyes. “Everything seemed okay until Rod died. Then Rey started going around making accusations, disturbing people, asking questions.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “Little hints. Like did this friend sleep with some other friend’s wife? Or had this person embezzled from his employer?”

  Jen took a sip of the soda. “Was Rey blackmailing people?”

  “No, he told me he was poking around to see who had a motive to kill Rod. Maybe some people paid him. He seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much and was quite free with his money.”

  “He told me once he was doing everything for his daughter.”

  Vera grabbed a tissue from the dispenser on the coffee table. “He didn’t need to. Emily’s 529 plan is fully funded. Rod took care of that. The scrap business has really been quite lucrative, especially with all the mandatory recycling.”

  “Did Rod have enemies? Maybe someone who was jealous of his wealth?”

  Lola called from the kitchen. “Vera, time to soak the noodles. I can’t do everything here.”

  Vera stood with a sigh and went to the kitchen. Jen poked around a bit more. The Victoria’s Secret bag sat under the coffee table. So it wasn’t Dave’s bag. Wow, she had been quick to jump all over him. But he must have been flirting with Vera, or she wouldn’t have invited him to dinner. Jen’s face heated. She shouldn’t be jealous. Dave never gave her any promises. In fact, he never committed to anything. Then what was all the kissing for? Perhaps she was being sexually harassed.

 

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