“You’re lucky it went down the way it went down. He could have kept on going, even with the bullet in his leg and taken your mother out before you could do anything about it.”
I took in a sharp breath but said nothing. He patted me on the knee and stood up, looking down at me gaping up at him.
“Think about what I’ve said if you’re ever in a similar situation. You broke every rule when you played it that way, even though it turned out all right. Remember that.” Then he smiled down at me, eyes and all.
Gurn drifted back to Douglas, said his goodbyes and left me sitting there. A few minutes later, I hauled myself up and went over to Douglas. We were the only ones remaining in the waiting room. I sat down, grabbing at his hand. He clutched mine and neither of us would let go. We fell asleep
leaning against one another. We were awakened by the whooshing sound of the door opening and saw a doctor dressed in blue standing in the doorway. We both stood up, waiting for what he was going to say.
“One of you the significant other of the man we just operated on?” he looked from me to Douglas and back again. He wasn’t sure which one of us he should be addressing.
“Are you talking about the man called Estaban?” I clarified. “The one with the bullet in his chest?”
Now thinking I was the S.O., he turned to me and said, “It was touch and go for a while, but he’s going to be all right.” He smiled and the fatigue dropped from his face like magic. “He lost a lot of blood, but we got everything fixed up. He’s going to be okay.”
“Oh, thank God,” Douglas said, covering his face with his hands. I grabbed him, helping him to remain standing. Douglas’ reaction made the doctor rethink which one of us he should be talking to.
“You can see him when he gets out of recovery,” the doctor said to Douglas. “But that won’t be for a couple of hours. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Douglas declared. “Maybe some coffee from the cafeteria. Anybody else want coffee?”
“Not for me, Douglas,” I said, turning to the doctor. “What about the other man? How is he doing?”
Frank appeared from nowhere and came to my side, touching my elbow with his hand. The doctor opened his mouth to answer, but Frank spoke first.
“Let’s go get your car, Lee. I’ll tell you on the way,” he said, ushering me into the elevator. We were followed by a relieved and glowing Douglas on his way to the basement cafeteria. The ride in the elevator was silent. We got off at the ground floor, waved goodbye to Douglas, and he continued on to the basement.
Frank and I didn’t speak even as we went out the hospital doors and walked through the parking lot. Arriving at his car, he went to the passenger’s side and opened the door for me, a first. My heart was racing, because I knew whatever Frank had to say, it wasn’t going to be good. I got in and waited for him to get into the driver’s seat.
Starting up the car, he looked both ways and pulled out. “Lee, they had to amputate the leg. The bone was damaged beyond repair.”
I pressed the fingers of both hands against my mouth to keep from crying out. I fought to keep sobs from replacing my labored breathing.
Frank glanced over at me, concern written all over his face. “You want to know how I look at it, Lee?” Frank asked, pulling out into the light traffic of El Camino Real. “You were facing down a killer. At any moment, he was going to shoot your mother and Tex. He’d just shot his own cousin. That’s after murdering three other people that we know about. I think he’s damned lucky to be alive. That’s what I think.”
I sucked in breath, before finding my voice. “He lost his leg because of me.”
“You could look at it that way. Here’s another. If anybody else had been in your shoes, like me, he’d be dead.” Frank pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. He leaned against the side of his door with his right arm over the top of the seat, looking over at me.
“Liana, you are the child of my best friend, a man whose loss I will mourn until the day I die. Don’t you think I know what you’re going through? What you are facing now is the main reason I never wanted you to be a PI and fought you every step of the way. I knew that in your line of work, you’d have to carry a gun, and someday you might have to use it on somebody. Someday you might have to maim or kill. Well, that day is here.
“I’ve had to accept the fact this is what you do, what you’re good at doing, so I guess you’ll have to accept it, too. You want a confession?” he asked, studying a speck of something on the steering wheel. “Sometimes after a really rough day, I get home, and I don’t even want to talk to Abby. I take the longest shower I can take, hoping it will wash some of it away, all the while knowing the next day, I’m going right back out there again. Understand?”
I nodded and leaned against the car door. “I do understand, Frank, I do. I just haven’t made peace with it yet.”
“Well, you work on that,” he said. “When you resolve it, you get back to me and tell me how you did it.” He looked over at me and smiled, starting the car again.
I threw my head back into the neck rest and tried not to think about the moral dilemmas that had forced their way into my life. Besides, there were questions buzzing around in my mind. How did Julio get hold of Mom and Tex, for one thing? I asked Frank and got an earful.
Julio had recognized me in San Miguel from the Christmas photo he saw at Douglas’ apartment when he helped Estaban move in. He panicked, thinking I had followed him to Mexico, where he had gone to “handle” the situation with Eduardo and Eva. Seeing me, he ran into a nearby store, owned by another one of his blasted cousins, hoping to get away. Then he’d turned the tables, trailing Tex and me through the streets. When I took off with Gurn, he didn’t have time to get to his car, so he stuck with Tex, hoping she would lead him to me. The bastard followed Tex all the way to Mexico City where she picked up Lila from the museo and then to the airport. His goal was to shut up anyone who could do any more damage to him and his family. He almost succeeded.
We stopped at a red light and Frank looked over at me. “You know why he took your mother and Tex to the gallery?” I shook my head. “His wife, kids, and parents were at his Bay Area home. He told Lila and Tex he didn’t want to kill them around his family. He needed some place quiet, like the gallery. Nice guy, huh?”
“Not so very,” I replied, feeling my face flush. “Turn around and let me go back and shoot his other leg,” I joked and then was sorry I’d said it. “That’s not funny. That’s sick,” I said, hitting my forehead with my fist. “When I’m tired, I’m tasteless or I have no taste. Which is it?”
“Probably both.” He laughed and so did I. “Actually, you become more macabre than usual, but your father was like that.”
We arrived at my parked car and he pulled alongside it, putting his own car in neutral. “Remember to show up at the station around ten. I’ll call you if anything breaks before then. I’m hoping one of the men in custody will talk soon.”
“Promise?”
“I said I would, didn’t I?” he growled and then winked at me. “When I get tired, I get cranky.”
I laughed and looked at my watch. It was close to seven. Douglas and I must have been asleep for a couple of hours. I don’t think Frank had closed his eyes since he was awakened around midnight, and here he was, going off to the station with a full day’s work ahead of him.
“Frank, thanks,” I said, opening the door, getting out. “Thanks for everything.”
“Sure.” He smiled at me, open and easy. “Today will be a better day. You’ll see.”
“If it isn’t, that’s just part of the job.”
“Just part of the job,” he echoed. I shut the door and watched my father’s best friend drive off into the rising sun. A good guy, if ever there was one.
I was in my driveway within fifteen minutes and would have driven by the main house if I hadn’t seen nearly every light in the joint ablaze. I stopped the car mi
dway down the drive and got out. Banging on the back door, I entered the mudroom and crossed into the kitchen. Lack of sleep and the knowledge of how close I’d come to losing Tex and my mother, heightened each of the five senses within me.
I paused in the doorway, as if for the first time, glancing around the twenty by thirty room. It still wore the original clapboard walls and cabinet doors from when the house was built in the twenties. The kitchen had been recently painted crocus yellow, Mom’s favorite color, with green and white accents. Even though the appliances were modern stainless steel, the kitchen had an ageless, old world feeling about it.
Mom and Tío hadn’t heard me come in. I stood and watched them with their backs to me fussing over platters piled high with food. I listened to the chorizo frying in the pan, the ticking of the wall clock, Tío humming and the clicking of my mother’s heels on the terracotta tiles. Each sound filled me with an overwhelming sense of relief and love. This was what it was like when Fate gave you another chance to be alive.
I cleared my throat.
“Liana!” Mom said, wheeling around, holding onto a steaming platter of Tio’s sweet, breakfast tamales. “We were hoping you’d make it back in time for breakfast.”
“Mija,” said Tio, putting down his spatula. He left the heavenly smelling chorizo on the stove to wrap me in one of his famous bear hugs. “Estas bien?”
“Bien. Yes, I’m fine,” I said, hugging him back. “What a night. Mom can tell you.”
“She has been doing that,” Tío said, going back to the stove to tend to the chorizo. “You must rest today,” he said, pointing the spatula at me. “You have been on the whirlwind.”
“Come into the dining room,” Mom said, standing at the swinging door before heading in, herself. “Everyone’s inside, Richard, Victoria, Mira, Tex, and even that sweet
Robby Weinblatt,” she said. “How you could ever talk about him as a bad-natured, evil young man, I will never know. He did what he did for his mother.”
“I know, Mom.” I grinned. “It’s really Leonard who turned out to be the shit,” I said, grabbing a plate of scrambled eggs, tortillas and a bowl of homemade salsa. Mom paused in the doorway about to call me on my language when I jumped in, “I know. Watch my mouth. Will do.”
I pushed her through the door and followed her into the dining room. I had just set the plates down on the table, listening to greetings from everyone, when my cellphone rang.
A hush fell over the room and everyone looked at me, stopping whatever they were doing. We all knew, whether it was instinctively or due to the early hour, that this was an important call.
“Hello?” I said and listened. “Okay, Frank. I’m with you. Go on.” Everyone paid attention to the one-way conversation, not moving, not making a sound. I responded to Frank with clipped phrases in between long pauses of listening. “Yes. Yes. For sure? He did? They will? When? Tomorrow? I see. Thanks, Frank. I’ll tell everyone. Oh, Frank,” I said, suddenly remembering. “Could you or one of your men notify Chief Miguel Ortiz of the San Miguel Police Department that he’s wrapped everything up, and he should put in for that promotion? Great. I appreciate it.”
I hung up and turned to Mira and Tex, sitting next to one another, gripping each other’s hands. “One of the two men in custody admitted he overheard the robber trying to extort money from Carlos for the return of the statue and phoned his boss, Julio. Julio stole the knife from Douglas’ kitchen and used it on the thief right before Carlos arrived at the garage.”
“Does this mean it’s over?” asked Mira.
“My son will go free?” Tex asked.
“It’s all over but the shouting,” I said. “Frank says once the paperwork is done, Julio will be officially charged, and Carlos will be released. He’s phoning Mr. Talbot now. Maybe Carlos will be free as early as tomorrow. For sure the next day.” There was a moment of silence. Then a whoop went up from everyone around the table, including Lila.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” said Robby looking around, “but it’s a good thing. Right?”
“It is, joven,” laughed Tio, handing him a plate filled with food. “A very good thing. Now eat something. You look like a plucked chicken. We have to fatten you up before we send you back to your mama.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lives Intertwined
The full-length mirror in the ladies’ room at Allied Arts reflected back the same hideous figure I’d seen at home. Even Tugger had hidden under the bed when he heard me swish by in my green taffeta meringue. The one I felt the sorriest for out of all of us was Jennifer. At five-foot one and a full-figured gal, she got stuck with the Orange Julius job that made her look like something out of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. She was talking a witness protection program.
An hour earlier, the harp and oboe had begun to play, marking the start of the procession. Four bridesmaids and I had rustled down the aisle together sounding like a runaway helicopter trapped inside a covered bridge. We’d even drowned out the music. It was the noisiest fifty-foot trek of my life. We arrived to stand beside a speechless preacher and a giggling groom and best man. The music petered out, and our gowns went into an enforced silence.
Fortunately, the organist began to play “Here Comes the Bride.” The congregation sobered, stood, and watched the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen in my life glide silently down the aisle, toward the man she loved.
Reminiscent of classical Greek dress, the gown was in the palest of ivories. Sheer, silk organza floated over a bias cut slip, plain and unadorned, save for a long cord of seed pearls. The cord journeyed from under her bust, crisscrossing in the front and back, then wrapped around her slender waist in a girdle effect. As the bride walked holding a small bouquet of gardenias, red-gold curls peeked out from under a diaphanous veil that billowed behind her, catching rays of sun flooding in through stained glass windows. The veil was held in place by a crown cluster of seed pearls, her only form of jewelry. Mira’s look was luminous, otherworldly, and breathtaking.
Those of us who knew her well held our breaths and wondered if she was going make it to the altar without some sort of ensuing disaster. Luckily, that day Mira was perfection in every way and steady on her feet.
The reception was now in full swing, and I felt I could relax a little. Everything was going as planned. The bride and groom had danced their first dance, the groom’s mother had officially handed over the deed to the four thousand acre rancho, and the mariachi band, much to my mother’s and Victoria’s joy, had asked Richard to play a solo on his guitar, mesmerizing us with his musical talent. All was right with the world.
If only I didn’t have to leave the ladies’ room and go back out there in this getup, I thought glancing in the mirror again. I let out a deep sigh, asked myself how Barbara Stanwyck would handle herself in my place, opened the door, and ran into my mother.
“Ah, here you are. Did you know Mr. Hanson has been looking for you?”
“Shit. Sorry, Mom,” I said, looking at the expression on her face. “Really. I’ll try to be better about my language. Honest.”
“Thank you, Liana. I find it most disconcerting.”
I wanted to say I found it most disconcerting to have someone around who talks straight out of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice but let it go.
“You seem to be hiding, dear. I would have thought you would want to mingle among the guests, after all you’ve done to make this event happen.”
“Yeah, well. I’m sort of keeping a low profile or trying to.”
“You can’t avoid Mr. Hanson forever.”
I nodded, thinking frantically of how to change the subject. “So, Mom, heard from Robby Weinblatt yet? Or Leonard Fogel? Take your pick.” I pulled her over to the side of the door, letting two women pass on their way into the ladies’ room.
“Funny you should ask. Mateo and I got a letter just today from Robby. Such a sweet boy to send a handwritten letter in this day and age. You can tell he’s been brought up well.�
��
“Oh, yes.” I said, thinking she was conveniently forgetting the treachery and larceny part of the equation.
Mom went on. “It seems his mother has finally gotten a visit from Leonard after all these years, and it went quite well. Leonard’s going to start contributing money to the household on a regular basis. Isn’t that lovely?”
I nodded. In truth, I had received a letter myself the day before yesterday outlining the same things. Robby had said he was going to write Tío and Mom, as well, and I had thought to use it to get off the subject of Gurn Hanson.
“Robby’s going to go back to school. He wants to be a detective,” I laughed. “Can you imagine?”
“How did you know that, dear?”
“Huh?”
“How did you know that Robby wanted to go back to school? He wrote it in the letter, but I hadn’t had a chance to mention it yet.”
“Oh, I think I heard it somewhere,” I answered vaguely. “Mom, you’re right. I should mingle with the other guests, just like you said. I’ll go do that now. How do I look?” I saw the expression on her face. “Oh, never mind.”
“Try not to think about it, Liana, and hold your head up high,” she said, as I scurried down the hall.
Going back into the main banquet room, I could see everyone was having a great time. I waved to Mr. Talbot, who was doing a very classy version of the calypso with Mrs. Talbot, and searched for Douglas. I found him sitting alone and took the opportunity to plop myself down by his side. He’d heard the sounds of me coming over the trumpets of the band and turned to me, smiling. That’s the beauty of taffeta; you never have to announce your arrival.
“Lee,” he said, resting an arm on my shoulder. “There you are. I’ve been waiting for you to have some free time to talk to me. Tell me,” he said with a straight face. “Does the manager of the Orange Bowl parade know you’re here? He’s going to be pretty upset when he finds one of his floats missing.”
Alvarez Family Murder Mysteries Boxed Set: Books 1-3 (The Alvarez Family Murder Mysteries) Page 44
