California Girl

by Rice, Patricia

  “I’m glad she’s with someone who cares for her.” Elliot produced the film he’d taken from the camera. “She had a camera with a satellite-tracking device in it. I’ve thrown the camera on a train going north. If her grandfather has any other tricks up his sleeve, I don’t know about them.”

  “Our police have been warned. Now that she is safely here, you should have no more trouble.”

  He wanted to believe that. He watched Alys speaking excitedly with Dulce, her hands flying in time with her words. He wanted to give Alys some time in Albuquerque, show her the sights. If it hurt this much leaving Lucia behind, to hell with his box. He needed more time outside of it.

  “Why would a man who doesn’t seem to like Lucia very much go to this much trouble to keep her?” he asked, trying to think of anything but the emotional scene before him.

  Tony shrugged. “He hates losing, and he hates giving up what he considers his. Lucia’s father was his only son. Maybe he thinks he can raise her to be the person his son wasn’t.”

  Elliot disliked the sound of that. He definitely wanted to come back and check on the child. “I owe her a camera. May we return tomorrow?”

  “You and Ms. Seagraves will always be welcome here.” Tony held out his hand.

  Elliot shook it. One task done. Mame next. One step at a time. Pretty soon he’d be back where he should be. He dropped his arm around Alys’s shoulder and gently pulled her away from her animated conversation. “The Balloon Fiesta, remember? The lighting will take place shortly.”

  Alys hugged Dulce, kissed Lucia, shook Purple’s paw, exchanged hurried phone numbers—using his cell phone for hers—and backed off with tears in her eyes.

  Elliot pretended not to see the tears. His heart hurt in too many places as it was. It hurt worse when Lucia waved her little hand and called adios after them, even though there was a huge smile on her face.

  “What will you do when we find Mame?” Alys whispered as they drove back down the road.

  He had been putting off thinking about it. “Find Mame” had been his goal for so long that he’d resisted going beyond that particular wall. “Ask her to go back with me.”

  “And if she won’t?”

  With a sigh, he answered, “Sit around and keep an eye on her until she’s ready to go, I guess. She’ll come around eventually.”

  “What about your deadlines? And the radio show?” She watched him with open curiosity.

  “The book and my notes are in my laptop. I can work on it in a hotel room. Don’t know about the show. I took the week off for the book tour and was supposed to return on Sunday. May have to call in and ask that they replay an old show. I can’t leave her here alone.”

  “She’s with someone,” Alys reminded him. “A man named Jock.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see about that when we get there.” Setting his jaw, Elliot steered into the heavy interstate traffic heading into the city. At least there weren’t any purple semis tailing them. Or anyone else, as far as he could tell.

  Alys subsided into silence. Out of the corner of his eye he caught her surreptitiously wiping her eyes, but she picked up the map and shook it out and did her best to look interested.

  “We’ll check on Lucia tomorrow when we deliver the camera,” he reassured her. “She’ll be fine now that she’s with family.”

  She sent him a watery smile. “I know. I miss Purple. Maybe I should work in a pet store.”

  “Or a plant store. You still have the orchid.” He nodded at the backseat where she’d carefully buckled in the pot so it could get sun without tipping over.

  “I need to mist it again. It’s horribly dry out here.”

  “You’ll need to work in a day care, a greenhouse, and a pet store to satisfy all your nurturing urges. How are you on skipping sleep?”

  She glanced at him warily, crossed her legs in the seat, and sank into the lotus position. A smooth dark curve of hair concealed her face. “Maybe I should be a doctor so I can sit in an office and write books and never see people. Do you get lots of sleep?”

  Elliot winced at the direct shot. He supposed it was only fair. He’d been shooting down her dreams all week. “I can help more people with my books than by seeing one person at a time.”

  “Not necessarily.” She shrugged. “From my experience, medicine might treat symptoms, but for true healing, people need human beings to listen to them. Body and soul are all one—until we’re dead at least.” She shifted from her yoga position and brushed a short strand of hair from her eyes, but she didn’t look at him.

  “Chicken soup for the soul,” he said scornfully.

  “Chocolate truffles for the soul. Chicken soup is good for bodies but my soul craves decadence.” She flipped on the radio and began singing about docks and bays.

  What had he been thinking? She needed someone arty who could relate to her crazy way of thinking. Maybe a musician who could teach her to sing. Or some New Age guru with crystals around his neck. They had absolutely nothing in common.

  Except he enjoyed her company, insane as it might be.

  And somehow, she had saved his life just holding his hand.

  * * *

  “I need to call them, Jock.” Standing in a sea of boldly colored, rippling nylon, Mame glanced nervously back to the parking lot. She should have learned how to use a cell phone—then bought one.

  The burly man tugging the maroon-and-gold nylon across his allotted piece of the field shook his shaggy gray head. “It won’t do a bit of good, Mame. They already know that something ain’t right. You can’t tell them anything different.”

  “I can tell Elliot about his car.” Although, come to think of it, she’d rather not.

  “You can tell them when they get here. If you’re crewing for me, you need to get to work, hon. Your nephew isn’t a dummy. He’ll keep his eyes open.” Eyeing the layout of the nylon, he returned to the basket to recheck the tie lines. “Set the fan in position. We’re ready to roll.”

  Mame loved the excitement of watching the big balloons fill with air. All around them other crews were in various stages of the process, spreading out the nylon, securing tie lines, switching on the huge fans to start inflation. She’d anticipated this moment for months—this was what living was all about.

  But Elliot and Alys could be driving straight into trouble if she didn’t warn them.

  Dulce had taken dirt roads Salvador’s purple trucks couldn’t touch. They had thought they’d led him off Lucia’s trail, keeping Elliot and Alys safe.

  But when they’d arrived in Albuquerque, someone had slashed the tires on the Rover. Whoever had done it was still out there. Jock had called the police, who’d blamed vandals. Mame wasn’t quite so certain.

  If Salvador’s men had followed her, they knew the motel where she was staying. They’d see Elliot and Alys when they arrived.

  She rubbed her chest and searched the crowd in hopes of seeing Elliot’s tall head or Alys’s shorter one safely hurrying toward them, and she prayed.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “Why did she choose a hotel way down here by Old Town if the park is out on the north end?” Fighting the remnants of rush-hour traffic and cursing as he missed a turn, Elliot stopped at a traffic light in the narrow, busy streets near the historic district of downtown Albuquerque.

  “Because Route 66 runs through here,” Alys explained. “And probably because the hotels out there were already booked. The city apparently fills up a year in advance for the festival.” She studied her city map, checked the GPS, and spotted the hotel before Elliot did. “Over there. It’s nearer the Convention Center than Old Town. I don’t think Mame really wanted to revisit the old motels. She’s picked the fanciest places she could find.”

  Turning around at the light, Elliot pulled the unremarkable Taurus up to the hotel door and popped the trunk so the valets could unload it.

  Feeling much too scruffy to enter a fancy hotel, Alys brushed a few loose bits of rainbow glitter from her hand-decorated f
orest-green sweatshirt, decided her black Keds were at least clean, and she hadn’t split any seams on her leggings. Had she known she was supposed to be a fashion plate, she would have packed differently.

  She’d known they’d booked a Hyatt and hadn’t worried about it when she thought she was traveling with Mame. When had she become concerned about how she looked?

  The night she’d gone to bed with Elliot. The night she’d come back to the world of the living. In these last years of grief, she’d forgotten that the real world noticed uncombed hair and strange clothes and people who sang to themselves in grocery stores. She’d been living inside herself too long.

  She’d probably driven Elliot crazy this past week. It was a miracle he hadn’t left her behind somewhere along the way.

  No, it wasn’t. He liked going to bed with her. He probably figured putting up with her eccentricity was a fair price to pay.

  If she had any sense at all, she’d continue to tell herself he was that shallow. Maybe if she thought it often enough, she’d even start to believe it. Except the path to noncommitment required a negative outlook, and who could criticize a man like Elliot?

  He stood there patiently on the sidewalk, wearing a fresh blue chambray shirt and the Stetson and cowboy boots she’d made him buy, looking like a movie version of every romance novel she’d ever read, while she dallied with maps and books and an astonishing nose dive in self-esteem.

  He didn’t look as if he was ashamed to be with her. He looked as if he was contemplating what kind of bed they would share next.

  She could live with that. She shouldn’t, but she could. For now. Popping out of the front seat with a handful of guidebooks and her purse, she smiled up at him. “How’s the heartburn?”

  His eyes were grave as he looked down at her. “Your positive vibrations apparently help.”

  He was teasing of course, but that worked, too. She was enormously nervous for some reason. “Do you think Mame is inside?”

  “No, I think she’s out at the park. It takes time to set up the balloons. If we hurry, we may get there before dusk when they light them.” He caught her elbow and directed her into the magnificent marble lobby with its palm trees and fountains and acres of seating.

  Alys wanted to step back in awe and admire, but accustomed to such luxury, Elliot hurried her up to the desk while the valet followed with a luggage rack of their suitcases. Alys understood his hurry. They’d been worrying over Mame for a week. He needed to see his aunt and make certain she was all right.

  And then what? Lucia was safe. Mame was out playing and could make up her own mind what she wanted to do about her health. Elliot intended to stay and monitor his aunt. Where did that leave her?

  Mame had told her that she had the attitude of a California native. She had enough cash left to go on. Not in this style, perhaps, but by bus or maybe an economy rental car if she bought groceries and didn’t eat in restaurants. She had the guidebooks. She wished they’d offer a guide to her future, which was beginning to look terrifyingly empty.

  Room card in hand, Elliot caught her elbow and steered her out of her daydream. The valet led them through the maze to the elevators. What on earth had Mame been thinking when she’d booked a luxury hotel?

  She’d probably been thinking she’d meet this Jock person here. Whoops. They could be walking in on a lover’s tryst. “Is the room in your name or Mame’s?” Alys whispered as the elevator zoomed upward.

  “She asked for adjoining rooms after she got here.” He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Do you want to share hers or mine?”

  That was putting it bluntly. Name that tune. Pick a relationship. Alys wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Don’t get any ideas, but I think Mame has a boyfriend and we ought to leave her alone.”

  “Right.”

  His flat reply didn’t sound promising, but he had a lot on his mind. Like maybe how to get rid of an eccentric nuisance when he was tired of her?

  She thought it had been pretty plain from the start that they’d both be going their separate ways once they found Mame. It was just a matter of logistics after this. She’d have to make certain Mame told her about any tests or operations so she could be there for her. Elliot wasn’t responsible for her any longer. And she wasn’t responsible for him. She could keep giving him positive vibrations and hope he stayed well enough to look after Mame. Only it would have to be by long distance.

  The room they entered wasn’t a suite, but it had a bed bigger than some of the rooms they’d shared. She could happily live in a room like this. It had a couch and chair and desk. What more could she ask for?

  Elliot knocked on the door into the next room. No one answered. He rattled the knob, but it was locked.

  “Just let me hit the bathroom and I’ll be ready.” Avoiding prolonged looks at that massive mattress, Alys dashed in to use the toilet, then stopped at the vanity to check her hair. She desperately needed a brush. When had she quit using cosmetics? Did she have time to rummage in her suitcase and find a brush and powder?

  Elliot had already discarded his hat and traded his boots for expensive leather walking shoes. He wore his jacket over jeans, but the jeans were his only concession to the man she’d known these last few days. He’d be pulling out his computer and cell phone shortly if she didn’t hurry.

  To her surprise, he was watching the television news.

  “There seems to have been a riot at a tourist train depot in the mountains,” he said dryly, watching the pictures flash across the screen. “The reports aren’t clear, but apparently a number of semis blocked off the depot while the drivers terrorized an entire car of tourists. They’ve arrested a couple of them for unauthorized entry and vandalism.”

  Openmouthed, Alys stared at the TV, but the announcers had moved on to another story. “You think . . .?”

  “Yeah, I think. Which means Lucia’s grandfather knows we’ve escaped his little net.” He glanced down at her, but his eyes didn’t light with their usual approval.

  She uneasily wiggled her shoulders beneath her cheap sweatshirt. “Well, Lucia’s safe, so he can’t do anything about it. I’m not dressed for this, am I? I can probably find a jacket in my suitcase. Should I look for it?” Alys grabbed her brush from her bag and ran it through her hair.

  “I like your elfin look. Come on, let’s find the balloon lighting.” Not looking at the big bed any more than she did, Elliot held the door for her.

  Elfin look? A little stunned by that description when her head had been on a different plane, Alys hurried to keep up with Elliot’s long stride down the corridor. “Balloon Glow, that’s what the brochure says.”

  “Fancier name for it. You’ll enjoy it.” He hit the elevator button.

  After consulting with the concierge, Elliot decided to take a taxi rather than attempt parking this late in the day.

  Deliberately shutting out all thought except that of fun, she sat forward in the taxi seat to look out the windshield. She’d spent months anticipating Albuquerque and the Balloon Fiesta, and she intended to experience it all. How close would they have to be to see the balloons?

  “Have you ever ridden in a balloon?” she asked, spotting one floating toward the mountains in the distance.

  “I’ve crewed with Mame and her friends. It’s fun.”

  Alys stared at him. “You’ve crewed? You can fly a balloon? When did you find time?”

  Amusement softened his chocolate eyes. “I haven’t spent my entire life in a library. My brothers and I have all helped Mame with her various interests over the years. We’ve not flown here, but around St. Louis. The crew doesn’t fly the balloon. The pilot does. But my brothers and I all know the mechanics of it.”

  “Wow!” Following the path of the golden balloon floating toward the sunset, Alys tried to imagine flying one, tried to imagine Elliot flying one, and couldn’t. “That has to be the perfect way to relax and escape stress.”

  Elliot laughed aloud. “You have a lot to learn about ballooning.”
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  “It’s not competitive,” she protested. “You just float along on the breeze and enjoy the scenery.”

  “It can be highly competitive and highly skilled and a lot of hard work,” he corrected. “Mame races balloons.”

  Alys glanced at him in alarm. “She won’t be going up there and racing, will she?” She’d had no idea this was what Mame had in mind. She’d thought they’d come to enjoy the sights and get a free balloon ride. While she’d been doing her daydreaming, Mame had been off on her own trip. She should have known that, but she’d been a little self-absorbed. Her alarm heightened. “What if she has another attack when she’s up there?”

  “That’s why I’m out here.” He took the hand she offered and squeezed.

  It would have been nice if he’d told her all this before they left Springfield—but then, she hadn’t asked. Maybe she’d taken her self-protective state a shade too far.

  The taxi let them out as near to the booth as possible. While Elliot paid the driver, Alys stared in awe at the enormous balloons slowly inflating across the park. She saw balloons resembling Snoopy and a cat and a beer can, beautifully colored balloons with advertising logos, artistically designed balloons, and ordinary ones in bright yellows and blues and reds. Stripes and patchworks and zigzags filled the enormous blue sky. With the backdrop of mountains, the spectacle was awe-inspiring.

  Openly gaping, Alys let Elliot check with attendants for directions. She simply followed him as he wended his way past balloons in various stages of inflation. Some were still lying on the ground while their crews struggled to fill acres of nylon with giant fans. Other crews had turned on their burners and the heating air was unfolding the colorful envelopes and lifting them skyward.

  “How will you find her?” she murmured, clinging to Elliot’s arm so she could watch the sky rather than where she was walking.

  “The only Jock I can remember is Jock Morton. I just checked and if she’s crewing with him, he’s number fifty-three and is flying for some race-car driver with the colors of maroon and gold. His space should be to the north of the field.” He pointed toward the mountains.