by Marja McGraw
“Well, we’re hiding in the bushes, so do what you’ve got to do. I won’t look, and no one else can see you.”
“Okay.” I could hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down. “Sometimes I wish I was a man. Like now.”
I didn’t answer her, but continued to watch the house. I felt that familiar giggle bubbling up, but after swallowing several times it went away.
It was close to midnight when I heard something out of the ordinary. I strained to hear what was happening. Someone was walking up the driveway. I turned to my mother and put my finger to my lips, indicating she should remain silent. I could barely make her out in the dark, but I could tell she was tensing up, waiting to see what would happen.
I heard a loud knock on Amanda’s front door. “Hey, Amanda, let me in. Now!”
I couldn’t hear Amanda’s reply, but I knew she’d refused to open the door.
“I said to let me in. If you don’t open the door, I’ll break it down.”
Again, I couldn’t hear her reply, but immediately I heard thumping and knew he was actually trying to break in.
“I’ll break the window if I have to.”
“I don’t think so.” Pete’s voice was loud, but he wasn’t yelling.
“What the…?” the stalker said.
“You’re done here, pal,” Pete said. “Let’s go.”
The next thing I heard was the thump and slap of fists, and a lot of grunting. I pulled my gun out of my waistband. Telling my mother to stay put, I turned and headed for the front of the house.
I could see Pete and the stalker fighting. Frank had a grip on the back of the stalker’s shirt. It ripped. Frank fell backwards.
“I’ve got a gun,” I yelled futilely. I knew I couldn’t shoot. I might hit Pete or Frank. Some P.I. I was turning out to be.
They didn’t hear me anyway. They were too involved in beating the pooh out of each other. Suddenly the stalker got in a lucky punch and knocked Pete down. Breaking away, the stalker ran into me and knocked the gun out of my hands. He headed toward the back of the house. I picked up my gun and took out after him.
“Hold it!” I ordered at the top of my lungs.
It was dark at the side of the house. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he’d reach the back in a second. I kept running, counting on the dim light from the back porch. Amanda had to get some brighter light bulbs. Frank was right beside me, running for all he was worth.
Then I heard a thud and a moan. My mother. He must have found my mother.
“Livvie!” Frank roared, passing me and running to her, fear in his voice.
Chapter Nineteen
1897 (One year earlier)
Vincente awoke to the sound of a knock at the front door. He sat up straight, realizing he’d fallen asleep in his chair after returning to the parlor. His neck was stiff and it took a moment to collect his thoughts.
The caller knocked again, loudly and insistently.
Frowning as he pulled himself out of the chair, the old man worked his neck, trying to ease the painful kink.
He opened the door to find Dr. Drake standing on the porch. He remembered how distant the doctor had acted on the night of the murder.
The doctor pushed his way past Vincente and entered the house, uninvited. He glared at Vincente as he passed him and headed for the parlor. Vincente returned the glare, staring at the back of the doctor’s head. He bristled at the man’s gall.
Dr. Drake told Vincente that he was through doing his dirty work. He said he wasn’t going to treat the hussies anymore, adding that things had gone too far and he’d had enough. Vincente noticed that the man kept glancing toward the back of the house where the kitchen was located. Why did the doctor look nervous?
2003
Worrying about my mother, I picked up my speed. Pete passed me and stopped abruptly, just short of the back yard. I almost ran into him.
“Well, I’ll be a son-of-a-gun,” he said in surprise.
“What?” My heart was pounding. I had to step around him to see what was happening.
The stalker was lying on the ground, looking dazed.
“Why, Sandi,” Mother said, “this backpack works even better than my purse. Can you imagine?”
I started to laugh, partly from relief and partly because it was actually funny. I couldn’t help myself. My teeny tiny little mother had stopped both a mugger and a stalker with a purse and a backpack, and big, masculine ex-cop Pete, and me with my gun, hadn’t made a dent in crime lately.
Watching my mother, I decided to take my little gun home and leave it there, only to be taken out on special occasions. I glanced at Frank, but he didn’t seem to think the situation was too funny, which sobered me. I sighed.
“Livvie, come here right now.” Frank didn’t sound at all happy. And I knew from experience that my mother was having another adrenalin rush. I could almost see sparks flying between them.
Pete understood what was happening. “Frank, give me a hand, will you? Help me get the handcuffs on this guy.” He didn’t need help.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Be right there.”
Frank turned to my mother. “You have to quit doing this. We’ll talk later.”
“Oh, yes, we will.” Mother pulled herself up to her full height, which was laughable, and puffed out her chest. She was pretty proud of herself.
Frank walked toward Pete, shaking his head in resignation. He already knew who’d won this latest skirmish, and it wasn’t him. Pete shot him a knowing glance, clearly understanding exactly how Frank felt.
“Mother, I think Frank wants to be the protector in this relationship,” I whispered. “Can’t you just let it go?”
“You’re right, dear. I know he means well. And he’s right. I could have been hurt. I’ve had more than my share of luck lately. But the guy ran right up to me, well, almost. I only had to step forward to take him out.” I was right – she’d been watching too much television. My mother didn’t use phrases like “take him out.”
She was fanning herself, as usual, so I retrieved my cell phone from my backpack and left her side to call the police. I didn’t know how long it would take for her mood to change, and I wanted to be somewhere else when it happened.
I saw Amanda at the back door. “Amanda, stay inside. Don’t come out here.” I didn’t want her stirring things up.
“Ya got him. Hooray for you. Can I pick ’em or what?” I wasn’t sure if she meant boyfriends or investigators, and I didn’t really care.
“Go back inside.”
“Awww, okay.” The door slammed behind her.
After being around my mother and Amanda, I was beginning to realize that women, as well as men, could suffer from the “little man”, or in this case “little woman”, syndrome. Some of them seemed to have the need to prove themselves, although I think it comes more naturally to my mother.
Swish. Swish. “She’s a strange little thing, isn’t she?” Mother was fanning herself and watching the back door of the house as she joined me. “And what an odd little voice. Kind of like a child.”
I glanced at my watch. The hands had moved from nighttime hours to early morning. The police arrived and took an initial arrest report. After speaking with Amanda, they asked us for our version. They loaded the suspect into their squad car and asked Pete to come in later in the morning to give them more information about the altercation between him and the bad guy.
Pete knew a lot of cops from his days with the Department, but this time two officers had shown up whom he didn’t know, meaning I didn’t have to wait for the good ol’ boys club to have their meeting. Every time Pete and I ran into his cop buddies, I ended up having to stand around while they reminisced and shared thoughts about how things used to be. I was always surprised that they didn’t pat each other on the behind like football players and let out a whoop before breaking things up.
“Now what?” Mother was fanning herself furiously and starting to pace.
“Now you and Frank go back to your motel,
while Pete and I talk to Amanda.”
“I’m too wound up to go back to the room.”
“She’s right, Sandi,” Frank said. “Why don’t you and Pete finish your business here and meet Livvie and me somewhere for a cup of coffee? No, on second thought she doesn’t need caffeine right now. She’s hyped up enough already.”
By this time Pete had joined us. “There’s an all-night diner not too far from the office. We’ll meet you there when we’re done.” Pete gave Frank directions to the place and told him we shouldn’t be too long.
Mother’s fanning was slowing down, a good sign.
They left while Pete and I headed to the front door. We wanted to check on Amanda before leaving.
I knocked and Amanda immediately threw open the door. She’d obviously been standing there waiting for us. A touch of the dramatic?
“Amanda, are you okay? I’m sorry I was so sharp with you, but the last thing we needed was for you to come outside. We wanted to keep that guy calm, and seeing you might have set him off.”
“Oh, I understand.” Amanda waved us inside. “And you’re probably right. I might have kicked that bum. He deserves it, ya know? I don’t even know him that well. I mean, why did he get so weird with me? He just latched right onto me.”
“It happens sometimes. If you remember, I told you the story of a guy who did basically the same thing to me a few years ago.”
“But you took care of it yourself.” Amanda sounded whiney, which I found irritating.
I’d done what I had to do. “My situation was different than yours, and I didn’t have any choice but to take care of it. At the time, I didn’t have anyone to turn to. You did.”
“You’re right, and I want to thank you and Pete. So thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Pete replied. “You should be fine now. He probably won’t be back to bother you.”
“I hope you’re right.” Amanda appeared a little dubious. “I only hope no one gives him bail money.”
“If for any reason he should bother you again, call 9-1-1. They’ve got a report on him and they’ll be keeping an eye on him.” Pete had more faith than I did. He was right though, because it was better not to scare her, and with a report on file, at least they’d know there really was a problem if she called them.
“We’ll keep in touch with you,” I added.
We left Amanda’s house and headed into town to meet my mother and Frank. We found them sitting in a horseshoe-shaped booth at the rear of the diner, huddled together and talking quietly. They appeared so serious that I couldn’t help but wonder what they were saying.
“Oh, Sandi.” Mother caught sight of me and slid over so I could sit next to her. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten about us.”
“Never happen, Mother. Move over by Frank so Pete can sit next to me.”
We settled in and ordered desserts, not really feeling hungry enough for honest-to-goodness food. I was surprised to discover that this nondescript little diner served homemade pie. I’d eaten many a meal here, but I’d never had a dessert.
“The owner’s mother makes the pies.” The waitress spoke to me while gazing at Pete. “Don’t tell anybody though, ’cause I don’t know if she’s licensed, or legal, or whatever you have to be.”
“We won’t tell a soul,” I promised.
“What do you think?” She couldn’t take her eyes off of Pete.
“Oh, yeah, it’s good,” he commented between bites.
“Well, I’ll leave you folks alone.” She left the table reluctantly, turning to look over her shoulder at Pete. She fluttered her eyelashes, but he wasn’t paying any attention. She always reacted to him this way when we came in. He had that thing, that attraction, which made him irresistible to women, many women. I was finally adjusting to it, but I still didn’t like it. Of course, if I saw him flirting back, that would be a whole different story.
“Frank says I’m having altogether too much fun.” My mother elbowed Frank’s ribs.
“Livvie…” he began, but he was grinning.
“Oh, I’m only joking. Anyway, we’ve decided to take a short trip. We’re going to drive over to Laughlin, Nevada, for a few days.”
“What’s in Laughlin?” I asked.
“It’s a small town with some big casinos,” Mother said. “It’s right on the Colorado River, across from Bullhead City, Arizona. And they have plenty of other things to do besides the casinos. We thought we’d drive up to Oatman, too. It’s a small historical town, like a rustic Virginia City. We’ll find plenty to keep us busy.”
“That sounds like fun. How long will you be gone?”
“We’re thinking about a week.”
“What about the old homestead?” Pete asked. “Did you find the address?”
“Oh, yes, I sure did. In fact, we were going to drive over there this morning but we got distracted. Can we drive over tomorrow morning to take a look at it? Frank and I are leaving for Nevada in the afternoon. It’s about a four- or five-hour drive over there, isn’t it?” She glanced at Frank, looking for confirmation.
“I think that’s about right. And I think Livvie needs a couple of days of rest and relaxation after all of her adventures. I know I do.”
“I’m going to work on my research about Vincente in more depth over the next few days, so this should work out fine,” I said. “With you gone, I’ll have more time to work. But what if I come up with questions?”
“I’ve already told you everything I know,” Mother replied. “Just in case though, I’ll call when we find a room and leave you a phone number.”
Mother had already given me the address of the old house, so we agreed to meet there the next morning at seven-thirty so Mother and Frank could get an early start on their drive to Laughlin. By the time we left the diner it was after two o’clock in the morning. None of us would be getting a lot of sleep before seeing the house.
“Sandi, I’ll pick you up and we’ll go over to the old house together. Okay?” Pete was driving me to the office to pick up my car.
“That’s fine. I’ll be ready.”
Chapter Twenty
1897 (One year earlier)
Vincente listened to the doctor impassively. He didn’t have the time or the patience for this drivel. Without a word he took Drake by the arm, squeezing to exert his authority, and showed him to the door. Drake left after turning and pointing a finger at the old man, telling him he was on his own.
Vincente quietly closed the door. He was a man of decisive actions, not one to slam a door. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on the problem. He knew, though, there was more to the visit than appeared on the surface. And he recalled the nervous expression on the doctor’s face.
2003
I awoke feeling amazingly refreshed early that morning. We’d put Amanda’s problem to rest and I was ready to start digging into the hundred-year-old murder. It could have all of my attention.
I’d taken a shower and washed my hair, and I was standing in front of the mirror drying it when I began to think about my mother’s adventures, as Frank had put it. What a woman. There were sides to my mother that I’d never seen before, or if I had, I hadn’t recognized them. She could be fun and she could be funny, even if she didn’t mean to be. I pondered the trials and tribulations she’d endured when my father had died so unexpectedly and realized that this was what made her such a strong-willed woman. She had to become strong in order to deal with life in general. There was no one around to pamper her after my father’s death. Little by little, I was beginning to understand my mother.
I finished my hair, added mascara and lipstick, and drank a cup of coffee before Pete showed up. There was a connection between Pete and me. When he knocked at the door I knew it was him. I could feel it. Okay, so I was expecting him. Maybe I was reading too much into our relationship.
“You ready?” He stood in the open doorway tapping his foot.
“Uh huh. Do you want a cup of coffee bef
ore we leave?”
“No, I’ve already had three cups. Can you make me some toast or something? My stomach is starting to gurgle. Too much coffee.”
“Of course.”
“I stopped to buy gas and I need to wash my hands.” He headed down the hallway.
He joined me in the kitchen when he was done and sat down at the table. “It sure has been an interesting few days. I mean with your mother here. She’s an unusual woman.”
“Unusual is a good word for her. See? Before she arrived, I knew you had no idea what we were in for. Now do you understand?”
“I’m starting to.” Pete picked up the morning paper and scanned the headlines before turning back to me.
“Are you going to turn into your mother someday?” he asked, a little too nonchalantly.
“No. You’re looking at the real Sandi. This is it. Take me like I am or walk away now.”
“I guess you’ll do.” He was teasing, and I knew it.
“Here’s your toast. Eat up and let’s get moving.” I was beginning to feel excitement about seeing the old house. It was a part of my family history. I’d never really given a lot of thought to my ancestors before, but now I wanted to know more. I guess ol’ Vincente had been a colorful character. The letters Merced had written perked my interest, too. I thought that I probably would have liked her if we’d had the chance to meet. I wasn’t quite so sure about Vincente.
Pete ate his breakfast in about one minute, which wasn’t all that unusual. He usually finishes eating, then sits and relaxes while I’m still trying to finish my food. And he consumes about three times as much as I do.
Picking up my backpack and keys, we left for the old house. It turned out to be a fairly short distance from my apartment, maybe a fifteen-minute drive. Grandmother Merced – that sounded strange to my ears – had actually lived in the house we were about to see. Huh.
Mother and Frank hadn’t arrived yet, so Pete and I sat in the car and looked around, sizing up the place. This was a two-story Victorian-style house with an attic and a large front porch. It was gray with white trim and had been fairly well kept up. I couldn’t say the same for the grounds. There was a “For Sale” sign in the front yard, which might explain why it had become overgrown. Bushes needed trimming, weeds needed pulling and there were leaves everywhere. There were several trees, but it certainly didn’t look like Amanda’s jungle. It didn’t appear that anyone was currently residing in the house. There were no curtains at the windows and it simply didn’t have that “lived in” look.
