by Style, Linda
Crista followed Alex toward the kitchen through the formal living room off the foyer. On the other side, it opened into a family room filled with comfortable-looking furniture in dark woods and leather. A long espresso-colored sectional curved around one end of the room in perfect placement to view both a brick fireplace with bookshelves on each side and a big-screen television that dominated the wall on the left. “Sam calls this the movie room,” he said, continuing through another wide archway into the kitchen.
“I can see why. Does she watch a lot of shows?”
“Not much TV. I try to get her to watch Dora the Explorer, but she’d rather watch Disney cartoons.”
“Dora? I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s about a little girl of Latino heritage, and the message of the show is that people should be proud of who they are.”
“Oh.”
“Sam is going through the I want to be like all the rest of the kids in school thing, so I thought the show would be good for her.”
Crista knew how Sam felt. She’d always wanted to belong. Never felt she did.
“Other than that, we do watch our share of movies.” He gave a low chuckle. “But if you ask me, I think Sam likes the popcorn even more than what’s on the screen.”
Alex was a devout father, that was obvious. “I’ll bet she likes watching movies with her dad. Sharing the time together.”
As they walked into the kitchen, he gave her a quizzical look, then a small grin. “I never thought of that, but I like the idea.”
Elena was busy at the counter and didn’t hear them enter. One by one, the older woman placed fresh, hot-from-the-oven fruit turnovers onto the counter to cool. Crista’s mouth watered. Empanadas de fruta. Her grandmother used to make those, too.
“Elena, look who’s here,” Alex said in Spanish.
Elena turned to them and smiled brightly. “Bienvenido a nuestro hogar.”
Welcome to our home. Crista felt a genuine warmth in the woman’s words—a warmth she hadn’t felt when she’d been at the house the first time. Apparently Alex’s mother-in-law viewed this visit differently than when Crista had come to interview them after the accident. “Mucho gracias,” Crista responded. “It’s my pleasure.”
Her earlier meetings with Alex had been more formal, though he’d lightened up a little when she was at his office. Now he seemed totally relaxed, which in turn made her more comfortable.
She reminded herself that it was okay to be here. She was here to give Samantha a gift. That was all. Really.
Alex turned to the refrigerator, a wide, stainless steel double-door job, and pulled out a gallon of milk. Elena handed him a glass and then gave Crista a plate of almond cookies.
Waiting for Alex to pour, Crista glanced around the room, noticing rich maple cabinets that matched the round table in the breakfast nook where, from the bank of windows she could see a large well-manicured yard and garden. Dark, earth-toned granite topped the center island and the counters lining three sides of the room. Everything coordinated perfectly with honey cabinets and the adobe-tiled floor. A far cry from what she’d grown up with. Hell, it was a far cry from what she ever expected she’d have.
“Okay,” Alex said after putting the milk back in the refrigerator. “We’re all set.”
“I’ll follow you,” Crista said.
Alex headed for the stairs with Crista behind, and with every step, she felt Elena’s assessing gaze on her back. She wondered what the woman thought of her visit. She seemed friendly enough, but her daughter had been married to Alex….
Upstairs, Alex stopped in front of Sam’s open door.
“I thought she might want to sleep in one of the other bedrooms,” Alex explained softly to Crista. “I was wrong.” He motioned for Crista to go in first, but she deferred to him.
“Daddy, daddy! See what I did.” Sam held up a piece of paper, a drawing with some stick people on it. “I drew you and me.”
“And what a fantastic picture it is.” Practically in the same breath, he said, “Look who’s here. You remember Ms. Santiago, the lady at the hospital.”
“Crista.” Samantha beamed.
Crista saw the surprise on Alex’s face. “I told her to call me Crista at the hospital,” she said quickly. Alex, she could tell, was obviously from the old school—the type who would object to his child calling an adult by her first name. “I don’t like being formal, either.”
“Then you hafta call me Sam,” the little girl said to Crista. “Not Samantha.”
Alex didn’t voice his opinion on the matter, but set the milk on the side table and pulled a chair to the bedside. “Go ahead,” he said, indicating for Crista to take the chair. She set the cookie tray next to the milk and did as he asked. He sat on the end of the bed.
Crista leaned forward, closer to the child. “So how are you feeling?”
“I’m all better now, but my dad won’t let me play and he won’t let me go back to school till way next week.”
“Well, dads usually know best, don’t they.”
The child nodded reluctantly, even though she looked as if she’d wanted Crista to side with her. “I guess so. But I still want to play.”
“Maybe this will help.” Crista opened the bag and pulled out the stuffed animal.
Sam’s mouth dropped open. “Snuffy!” she squealed. “You got Snuffy back, and he’s all clean.”
Oh, dear. Crista wasn’t sure what to say. Let the child think it’s the same animal or tell her she bought it online and had it express-mailed to her home. She glanced at Alex for help.
He shrugged as if he didn’t know what to tell her, either.
“Oh, I know,” Sam said. “He had to take a bath cuz he had blood on him from the accident.” She examined the animal from head to toe. “But he’ll probably get all dirty again. Rabbits don’t know any better.”
Crista smiled. “Kinda like little girls and boys, huh?”
“Do you have any little girls or boys?”
“No…” Crista answered, surprised. “But if I did, I’d want them to be just like you.”
Sam frowned. “I don’t have a mommy anymore because she’s in heaven. Maybe you can marry my daddy and then you’d have a little girl just like you want. And I’d have a mommy.”
Crista heard a strangled cough from Alex’s direction.
“Uh…why don’t you have some cookies, Sam,” Alex mumbled. “Better yet, let’s all have some cookies.” He held the tray while both Sam and Crista decided which one to take, and then he took one of his own.
“Umm. Good,” Crista said, relieved that Alex had changed the subject. Some things were better left to the imagination—things like being Samantha’s mommy. Like being any child’s mommy. Once upon a time she used to fantasize about being happily married and having a large loving family. She’d never dreamed what was in store when she’d married Trini. Now, her days of dreaming were over.
She knew what being married to a police officer was like, had witnessed the horrors more than once.
Alex had been partially right when he’d assumed that Crista’s job had something to do with her marital status. But it wasn’t the only reason.
None of her reasons seemed important as she watched Alex with his loving family. Seeing their closeness made her aware of what she was missing.
Risa, Lucy, Abby, Mei Lu and Catherine used to fill that void. For the past six years, the friends had always spent some part of the holidays together. But not this year. This year she’d be alone.
“Okay,” Alex said. “Time for this little girl to go to sleep.”
“Yes. It’s getting late and I have to go home and take care of Calvin.”
“Who’s Calvin?” Alex and Sam asked in unison.
“Calvin Klein. He’s a parrot I rescued from an abandoned house. He’s red and yellow and blue, and he repeats whatever you say to him.”
“I like parrots,” Sam said. “I like all animals. I want to get a puppy, but Daddy says not until I’m
old enough to take care of one.”
“It sounds like your daddy has some good ideas, because pets do take a lot of care.”
“Does Calvin?”
“He sure does.” More than she’d ever imagined. “Calvin is a Scarlet Macaw, a special kind of parrot.”
“Can I see him sometime? I really, really like birds.”
Crista glanced at Alex. She didn’t have the heart to refuse the child. When Alex didn’t object, Crista said, “Maybe. But first you need to get better.”
Sam yawned. “Snuffy can help me get better.” She hugged the stuffed animal in a vise grip against her chest.
Crista started to get up when Alex placed a hand on her shoulder and then said to Sam, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
The little girl looked down, as if embarrassed. “Thank you very much for bringing Snuffy back.” And then she reached out her arms to Crista for a hug.
Crista’s chest tightened as she leaned in and hugged Sam, hopefully not too tightly. Closing her eyes, Crista inhaled the sweet little-girl scent of bubble bath and freshly washed hair. She felt the tightness move to her throat and she wanted to hold the child indefinitely. After a moment, Crista gently pulled away. “You’re very welcome,” she said, her voice a whisper.
As Crista stood to leave, she felt Alex’s warm hand on her arm.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said.
Crista waved at Samantha. “Get better, little one.”
ALEX WAS IMPRESSED with Crista’s ease with Sam. The woman had a quiet confidence about her, and he’d been both surprised and pleased when she’d supported his decision to not mention the accident to Sam. She seemed a very different woman tonight than the one he’d met the other day—and he wanted to know this woman better. Much better.
The realization caught him off guard. He hadn’t had thoughts about getting to know any woman since Marissa died. He’d put all his energy into making sure Sam was safe and happy.
When he and Crista reached the door, he opened it and stepped outside with her.
“You have a wonderful daughter,” Crista said.
“Thank you. I think so, too.” He didn’t want her to leave quite yet, so he added, “She really likes you.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t know how to answer her when she asked to meet Calvin, but I suppose she’ll forget about it as soon as I’m gone anyway.”
“Oh, no, she won’t. She remembers everything, and she’s going to bug me about it.”
“That’s not good, is it. I’d hate to disappoint her. Maybe you can explain.”
He pulled the door shut behind him. “Explain what?”
“It was an inappropriate suggestion on my part, and I imagine you don’t want her going anywhere for a while.”
“Not for a while. But when she’s feeling better, I think she’d love to meet Calvin. If it’s no trouble for you, of course.”
“Uh, no. It’s no trouble. And Calvin does love attention. Just let me know when she’s feeling better and we can arrange something…when I have some spare time.”
“So what does an unmarried detective do in her spare time?”
Crista did a double take, but she recovered quickly. “Actually, I don’t have much spare time, and when I do, I go to the gym. I’m working toward a Masters level in Wing Chun Kung Fu.”
“I’m impressed. I’ve done a little martial arts training myself, but I’m not familiar with that form of Kung Fu. Maybe you could give me a lesson or two?”
She laughed. “It isn’t a casual sport. It requires dedication of both mind and body. You wouldn’t learn anything unless you get the head stuff down first.”
He thought he saw a glint in her eyes. Then she said, “Besides, I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
At that moment, Alex could think of nothing he’d like better than getting physical with Crista Santiago. “Uh…I don’t think that’s a problem.”
The problem was the direction his thoughts were taking. If she knew, she’d probably think he was a macho guy with nothing on the brain but sex. And at the moment…she’d be right.
“How did you get interested in such a demanding sport?” he asked, changing the subject before his body gave him away.
She backed up, one foot reaching for the step below, as if she suddenly wanted to get the hell out of here. He’d thought it a benign question, but he’d made her anxious. Maybe he was getting too personal? He couldn’t help himself. He wanted to find out as much as he could about this woman before she left.
“It’s not a very interesting story,” she said and then turned and headed for an old red Jeep parked in the drive.
He walked alongside, his strides longer than hers. Reaching the vehicle first, he leaned against the door. “So tell me anyway. I want to know.”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “I wanted to be able to defend myself. That’s it. No big deal.”
No big deal, Alex said to himself as he watched her drive away. Except that her reaction to the question indicated just the opposite.
CHAPTER FIVE
“MAYBE YOU CAN BE my mommy and then you’d have a little girl just like you want.”
Driving home, Samantha’s words played over and over in Crista’s head. Yes, she’d like more than anything to have a little girl just like Samantha, and if her baby had lived, she would have. There was a time when she’d longed to be a mother, and though it wasn’t in the forefront of her mind anymore, many nights she still felt the need. Or was it the void she felt?
It was easy to imagine being part of Alex’s welcoming family, a family where everyone seemed to care more about one another than anything else. It was easy to imagine herself married to Alex.
And wasn’t that a ridiculous concept? He was interested in her, she could tell. But he’d already said he couldn’t fathom being married to a cop, so his interest had to be purely physical.
Even if she’d had a sudden change of heart regarding marriage, which she didn’t, Alex Del Rio was the total opposite of any man she’d even consider. He loved his community and wanted to stay there. She’d spent the past fourteen years building a new life for herself—away from the Hispanic community. A life that wasn’t constrained by her gender or her heritage. She valued her hard-won independence too much to even consider a relationship with a man like Alex.
So why couldn’t she get him out of her mind? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about being intimate with him?
Okay. It didn’t matter what her hormones were telling her, she wasn’t going to get involved with Alex Del Rio and that was that. She had a case to solve and it wasn’t going to get done if she was mooning over some guy like a love-struck teenager.
SITTING AT her desk two days later, Crista punched information on the Encanto case into NCIC to determine if any other local cases had a similar M.O. When the data hit the screen, she was surprised to see Diego’s name come up.
But of course it would. Diego had been a member of the Pistoles and drive-by shootings were part of the gang’s initiation rites. Diego had been picked up as a suspect in one of the crimes, but he’d beaten the rap because there was no evidence he was the shooter. The police had bullets, but no gun, which meant no evidence to trace the crime to Diego—or anyone. Which was the case with both crimes she was working on. Bullets but no gun. Hell, it was the same with most drive-bys.
A few years later, her brother hadn’t been as lucky when he was caught breaking and entering a jewelry store. A man had died, and even though Diego hadn’t wielded the gun, he’d gotten ten years anyway.
“What’s going down?” Pete’s voice came to her as if in a fog.
“Not much,” she answered and quickly closed the computer file. No one in her office knew she had a brother, and she didn’t feel the need to inform them. Personal information in the employee files was confidential and it wasn’t likely anyone would make the connection even if they came across Diego’s file in the course of an investigation because she’d taken a different family name
after she escaped her marriage. She wasn’t ashamed of Diego, but she had enough strikes against her within the department. Her past could easily cloud any major issues that might arise.
“What’s up with you?” she asked Pete, knowing exactly what was up. His wife was having a baby and he couldn’t think of anything else.
“Sharon is in labor. She’s having pains. Real ones.”
From the beaming smile on his face, Crista determined that was a good thing. “So it’s really going to happen, huh?” She grinned at Pete, his happiness making her happy. They’d only been together a short time, but had formed a close bond.
“I wanted you to be the first to know.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” She wanted to give Pete a hug, but knew the razzing they’d both get if she did. “You taking vacation now?”
“Yeah. And I better get the heck out of here.”
“Right. Give my love to Sharon and be sure to let me know right away if it’s a boy or a girl.”
Pete was practically out the door before she finished her sentence. Crista couldn’t blame him. Having a baby had to be the most exciting moment in a person’s life.
Crista turned back to the case. The more she read, the more she was reminded that she had to talk to Diego again—see how he was doing. Even if he didn’t want her help. She’d been disappointed to see Marco at Diego’s and she’d been horrified to run into Trini. She hated the thought of going to the house again.
Just then it occurred to her that if anyone knew what was going on, it was Marco. Maybe he wouldn’t willingly offer information, but sometimes people gave things away without realizing it. Hell, she wouldn’t know unless she tried.
She flipped through the database again. Marco had a record and it was easy to find his address and phone number, which she immediately punched in. If she could set up a meeting…
“Ese,” a gruff voice answered.
“Marco?”
“¿Quién quiere saber?”
She wanted to know, that’s who. “It’s Detective Santiago.” When there was a silence on the line, she added, “Crista. Diego’s sister.”
