Turning to look around for anyone else, I saw a man and his wife walking toward the entrance at the other end of the grocery, their shoulders scrunched up to cover most of their faces. Again, I looked over at Mom, and I could see her head rocking front and back. I took a step in her direction.
Suddenly, the sliding doors behind me opened. I looked up and realized I had stepped too close. The doors had seen me and decided to open. Mom and both of her friends then looked at me.
“Alexandra, stay at the cart like I told you. Don’t disobey me, or I’ll have to punish you.”
I nodded and shuffled backward a step.
“Oh, look out there, little girl.”
I had almost run into a store employee, a man with a mustache and one of those white shirts with a name tag on it.
“Sorry,” I said.
He looked toward the parking lot, then turned back to face me. I just stood there.
“Your mom or dad around?”
I swatted a hand over my shoulder. “Yes sir. That’s my mom over there, talking to those men,” I said with little energy.
He blew into his hand and looked in Mom’s direction. “Is everything okay?” he asked me.
I considered my options. I really wanted to tell him that I was worried about Mom, and even me. Those two men weren’t nice. But if I said what I was thinking, then I’d probably get in huge trouble and be banned to my room for a week straight. On top of that, I usually didn’t share anything with anyone. Well, anyone except my pet turtle that I found on the beach. His name was Speedy.
“I’m fine. Just bored. Mom’s just having one of those adult conversations,” I said, cupping my hand to the side of my mouth so Mom wouldn’t hear me.
“I see. Well, if you need to warm up, you can always come back into the store and wait for her there. I’ll even buy you a cup of hot chocolate.”
I could see the man’s smile under his thick mustache. I glanced over my shoulder and thought about it.
“Eh, I better not. Mom likes for me to stay close.”
“Okay, then,” he said. He shot another look at Mom and the two men. “I’m going back inside. Hope they finish before you turn into an icicle.”
I waved goodbye and found a crack in the sidewalk that seemed interesting. The shape reminded me of a design I’d etched in the sand using a stick, and then a wave had crashed onto the shore and wiped it away.
“Let us pray,” I heard the man say, and I flipped around to look at Mom. She had shifted her position a bit, and I could see all their eyes. They were shut, and Blondie was speaking so softly I couldn’t hear him anymore. He held a book in his hands. Mom and the short guy both rested a hand on that book. I guess it was a Bible. The cover was a dingy red, and I could see threads hanging out from the binding.
“Amen,” the man said.
Mom turned back to me, but the man grabbed her wrist, and her neck snapped back to face him.
“Mom!” I yelled out instinctively.
The short, pudgy man moved between me and my mom. I could hardly see her.
“The work of the Lord is serious business, Charlotte. Are you ready to accept the challenge?” Blondie asked.
Scooting to my left, I could see Mom’s face. It was somber, and her neck had red splotches. It only got that way when she was really upset. She paused for a second, and I eyed the man’s grip on her wrist. It was tight, and he wasn’t loosening it. He was just a big bully!
“Let go of my mom!” I yelled before I even realized what I was doing. The short man turned around and leaned over. “Why don’t you go back and put your hands on the cart, and Mommy will be done when she’s done? Get along now.” He waved me away. I ignored the man’s advice and stepped closer. “Mom, are you okay?”
She turned toward me, and for a brief second she dropped her stern appearance, as if her eyes were reaching out to me, telling me that she loved me.
“Mom!”
Blondie jerked her arm again. “I need an answer, Charlotte. Now.”
A plastic grocery bag swooped across my vision, the gusts of wind now kicking up sand and small rocks. I covered my eyes with my hand, but tried to not lose eye contact with my mom.
She stood like a statue, unaffected by the wind. I could see her swallow once. After what seemed like an hour, I heard her say, “You have my word.”
Blondie unhooked his grip, and Mom stumbled a couple of steps before regaining her balance. Quickly, her composure returned, and she walked toward me, holding out her hand. I grabbed hold and squeezed like my life depended on it. I looked up, and she curled a loose strand of hair around her ear, her eyes blinking several times. Even though she had that familiar regal look, something was off. As we reached the car, I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder one more time. Blondie was walking away, but staring right at me. His eyes were piercing, penetrating. He had a look I’d never seen before.
The look of evil.
That night, I wet my bed for the first time since I was a baby.
2
Present Day
I could feel the thud of my heartbeat, and that was when I knew I was awake.
Lying face down on a mattress with a pillow covering my head, a loose spring poked my rib cage. I took a couple of audible sniffs and picked up a waft of something foul.
Then I suddenly felt the urge to pee, and I kicked at the covers. The sheet somehow twisted around my calves and ankles, as if I had just stepped into some type of bear trap. I tried pulling on the sheets, but they were taut.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” I said to no one in my motel room. I blew a strand of hair out of my face, took in a breath, and then whipped my legs up and down as if I were trying to chase down Brad in one of our infamous off-road bike races.
I wish.
Another burst of energy, and my legs were in full-on spastic mode. Before I knew it, I’d fallen off the bed, my legs still twisted in an unforgiving knot. I almost chuckled out loud. The knot reminded me of when Dad used to show me how to tie knots for a sailboat. The bowline knot. That was the one I recalled the best.
A lump formed in my throat as a flurry of images blitzed through my mind. Some made me smile, but so many others only brought back a familiar feeling of pain, and even shame. I glanced up at the clock and realized I couldn’t put it off any longer.
I had a funeral to get to.
But first I needed to pee. Bad.
***
The headstone was simple and clean. The letters and numbers had probably just been carved in the last couple of days. The sand-whipped winds invaded my mouth, and I could feel the familiar grit between my teeth, just like when I was a kid running around Port Isabel. A low ceiling of gray clouds raced across the sky, as if they had somewhere to go. Their pace was the antithesis to the proceedings, which were slow and plodding. Final.
Donald S. Troutt, former Coast Guard captain, my dad for the last thirty-nine plus years, had died of congestive heart failure a week earlier. It was sudden, but not unexpected. I always figured he’d throw me one more curveball on his way out of my life for good. We hadn’t spoken since summer vacation a few months earlier, when I found him neck-deep in a drug-smuggling ring that was connected to a number of killings in the area, including one of my old high school friends. His repeated poor decision-making over the years had created many embarrassing situations, but nothing like this past summer. His actions were reprehensible. Erin and Luke, my two children and the most precious jewels on the earth, witnessed my friend’s death up close, while also being dangerously close to two drive-by shootings. By the time Dad finally confessed to the degree of his involvement—laden with one excuse after another—I couldn’t bear to be around the man. I left him and his girlfriend, Carly, who had pulled him into the seedy world of drug smuggling, to work with authorities and lawyers to figure out how they could avoid prison time.
As I glanced around the circle of people at the graveside service, I didn’t recognize many familiar faces. A few folks from our o
ld neighborhood—the ones who generally knew about Dad’s constant battle with the bottle and all the related demons. My old high school boyfriend, Mario. And of course, the bitch. Yeah, Carly I could do without. Dressed in all black, including a veil netting covering most of her face, the woman was putting on a show. She produced tears at all the right moments and eagerly volunteered to formally accept the folded American flag from a Coast Guard officer. An extension of her act could have been part of a burlesque show. She wore a little black dress, so little in fact that it didn’t even reach mid-thigh. And at the exact moment the uniformed officer was handing her the flag, she spread her legs for the world to see.
Classy Carly. That could be my name for her. It would allow me to avoid a barrage of four-letter descriptors.
She was a selfish, money-grubbing leech, or was it a more accurate representation to call her a vulture now that Dad had finally died? If there was money to be found, Carly would sniff it out faster than any drug-sniffing dog in the DEA.
I glanced over at Mario just as the preacher asked everyone to bow their heads and pray. His presence gave me a little sense of calm. He had been the key cog in the DEA’s undercover operation and instrumental in helping to identify and apprehend the leaders of the drug cartel, the ones who had brought so much violence to the Rio Grande Valley. As a recovering drug addict, and someone with children of his own, he’d become a strong advocate to remove the lure of drugs from the Valley.
The preacher closed out the service with a few words of his own, and then he gave each of us a chance to walk by the casket and pay our respects. A few folks placed roses on the top of the casket, and soon there were only two people left near the open hole where Dad would be buried: Carly and me. Even though she had on mirrored sunglasses, I just stared at her. Finally, she relented and took the cue to go in front of me.
She got down on her knees and interlocked her fingers. Tears flowed, which brought a few gasps from the crowd that had lingered nearby. She seemed to be saying a few words. I tried not to read her lips. Moving with the grace and speed of a woman three times her age, she lifted to her feet and padded away.
A number of heads turned toward me, but I didn’t acknowledge them. Part of me didn’t want to offer any heartfelt respect to the man who had let me down so many times…but he’d also been both my personal tennis coach and the only parent to show me any love.
Then why was I being so harsh?
A feeling of guilt swept across my body for letting my anger and resentment get the best of me. I took a few steps forward, leaned over, and touched the top of the casket. Then my chin dropped to my chest, and my breath began to flutter. I couldn’t stop myself from crying.
A moment later, or maybe longer, I felt a gentle hand on my elbow.
“Alex, you okay?”
It was Mario, with his sympathetic and caring eyes.
“Uh…sorry. Just got wrapped up in the moment.”
“No, that’s completely okay. Just want to make sure you don’t need anything. You can stay here all day if you like. I won’t leave you here.”
Another wave of emotion. Glancing back down at the casket, I thought I knew why I was so emotional. It was the finality of my family. Mom had died years ago when I was just seven, leaving Dad and me to figure out life. While we’d had our moments, it wasn’t a very healthy environment, to say the least. He was drunk or depressed half the time, either over Mom dying or some other type of drama.
I turned back to Mario and offered him a faint smile. “Thank you for being here, Mario.” He would never be anything more than a friend, but at least he represented one of the few positive memories from my younger life. One of the good guys.
He took my hand, and we walked to a clearing, where we turned to watch two cemetery workers lower the casket into the ground.
I could hear a few whimpers behind me. I think one of them was Carly, no doubt putting an exclamation on her performance.
“You think she could be any more of a drama queen?” Mario whispered in my ear.
I smiled through my tears, recalling how much Mario and I typically thought the same thing, even if we never said a word out loud. It was kind of funny. He seemed more like a twin brother than a former boyfriend from umpteen years earlier.
“You ready to get out of here?” he asked.
I nodded and turned to follow Mario but almost bumped into Carly, who had just lifted her veil and removed her sunglasses.
“Alex, I’m…” she released a gasp, “I’m so sorry for your...loss.”
Shifting my eyes to Mario, he gave me a slight nod. He was telling me to keep my response muted.
I cleared my throat, giving me a couple of extra seconds to focus my thoughts on keeping peace. “Thank you, Carly. I’m sure this hasn’t been easy on you.”
She pursed her lips, then put her hand on my shoulder. I looked down at her hand as if it carried some type of deadly disease.
“I know we haven’t seen eye to eye about everything, but I know how much you cared about your father.”
I responded with a single nod while pressing my lips together.
“He had his faults—who doesn’t, right?” she said, with far too big of a smile. “But he was a good man. Yes, a good man indeed.”
One more glance over at Mario. He gave me another encouraging nod.
“I think he tried to be a good father. It was just tough on him. Mom dying, and then his battle with alcoholism. But I have to admit, we had some good times.”
She hesitated for a second, as if she were deciding whether she should jump down my throat or just take it for what it was: my best attempt at being courteous without slandering the person right in front of me.
She patted my upper arm, and I stared at her hand again.
“Your father saw himself in you,” she said.
I gave her a look of indignation. Was she blowing smoke up my hoo-hah? I couldn’t understand her motivation, so I said nothing.
“He said you were driven to be the best at whatever you tried.”
I nodded slowly, wondering how that mimicked Dad’s behavior.
“Oh…I can see you’re probably focused on how your dad acted in his later years. Well, when he was younger, he said he put his heart and soul into two things: the Coast Guard and his family.”
Family. In some respects, it sounded like an abstract word. It was something I had always craved growing up, but never really felt. It was why I valued my kids and Ezzy, our nanny and one of my dearest friends. And now, I suppose, Brad was edging himself into our tight-knit group.
I looked into Carly’s eyes, and for the first time since I’d stepped back into Texas, I tried to push aside the bitterness and just accept things as they were. Even including Carly.
“That’s nice of you to say, Carly. Thank you.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I never meant to hurt your father, to bring him into my whacked-out world. But he had a kind soul. And there aren’t too many people in this world who can say that.”
She pulled me in and hugged me. I tried to reciprocate, but she squeezed so hard it was difficult to breathe. Someone called her name from the area where the cars were parked, and she quickly let go of me.
“If you ever want a place to stay when you and the kids come back for vacation, you’re welcome to stay with me.”
Was she serious? I would feel more comfortable asking the local sheriff if we could sleep in his jail cell. “Thanks for the offer.”
She gave me an air kiss and walked away.
Mario came up next to me. “Wow. Not many people could have done what you just did.”
“Eh. Not that big of a deal.”
A few sprinkles fell from the sky as Mario and I walked toward his car. A canopy of trees provided some cover as we made our way across a grassy area.
“I don’t want to burst your bubble, but she seemed a little too perky for me,” Mario said.
“Ditto. But my role in her life has hopefully come to an en
d.”
“Even if she’s about to cash in on a life insurance policy your dad set up?”
I gave him the eye. “Do you know something?”
“Nothing solid. Just a few rumors floating around town. Could be nothing.”
I thought about how my deceased husband had left us high and dry almost a year earlier. The last thing I was looking for, or expecting, was money from my dad. He had nothing, at least that was my impression. And if he had anything stashed away, it had to be blood money from his dealings with the drug cartel.
But then I thought about Erin, with college just a few years away. She had been taking school more seriously, talking about possible majors. And then Luke was right behind her. After that, graduate school could be a possibility. I wanted the absolute best for them, but I knew I couldn’t afford it. Not on my government paycheck.
“If Dad wanted me to have anything, he would have left it for me. The only way I’d entertain taking any money would be for the kids, their college education.”
We made it to his car, and he opened the door for me. Before I got in, I felt a buzz coming from my purse. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
“Your kids?”
“Uh…no,” I said, momentarily distracted.
“Don’t tell me. It’s your new boyfriend, Brad.” Mario winked.
I pulled my eyes from the phone and responded with my own wink. “It’s not Brad either. And he’s really not that new. I’ve known him for a few years. We just decided to make it formal here in the last couple of months.”
He snapped his fingers. “Your nanny, Ezzy, right?”
“All good guesses.” I glanced back at the phone. “Can you get me to the airport in Harlingen in one hour?”
Mario looped around his car. “You going to tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s Nick.”
“Your partner?”
The Alex Troutt Thrillers: Books 4-6 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set Book 2) Page 49
