Unattainable
Page 22
“No.” Dell leaned her head back carefully. “In fact, you really needn’t bother, Jovi. I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can,” he agreed easily. “But I’m coming back anyway. Just to find out if you’ve ever really used that line about headaches before.” He walked over to the bank of windows that formed one wall of the living room.
“Can you believe it’s still pouring? The flooding this time is going to be bad — real bad.” He swiped a hand through his hair and headed for the door, snagging his slicker from the coat tree. “I’ll be back in less than ten minutes.” He stopped, came back into the room, and handed her the cordless phone from the end table. “Use the intercom button if you need Rosa before I get here.” He half turned, then turned back and placed a light kiss on the top of her head. “ — que te mejoras,” he murmured, and left.
Chapter Nineteen
Water sloshed up around his legs, soaking the already-wet denim, but Jovi rushed toward the foreman’s house, unable to shake the night’s horrifying events. He’d been checking on the water level in the stable, then planned on walking over to talk to Pete, when a dark shadow had stumbled off toward the ornamental shrubs lining part of the drive. When lightning flared, he thought he recognized Danny, but wasn’t sure.
He’d looked around and seen only the tool shed as a place the intruder might have come from. In a momentary lull between sheets of rain, he saw the door banging and raced over.
Maribel was in a corner, hands over her face, sobbing. He could remember the sudden tightness in his chest, the stab of terror when he saw Dell on the floor, unmoving. Lack of light and the violence darkened the scene, and for a moment, he felt as angry and as helpless as when he’d busted into drug parlors in south Florida, aware of the danger but unable to beat it back.
“Get to the house,” he hissed at Maribel. “Before me, or I swear to God I’ll lock you out in this damn storm!”
He knelt over Dell, lifted her gently, and started toward the house, relieved that she moaned a little, though she didn’t come to.
The heart that almost stopped when he saw her unconscious on the floor thudded as he finally managed the steps up onto the porch and threw his own door open. He raced up the stairs, grabbed the first shirt and jeans he saw, and jerked his clothes on.
“That stupid little — ” He clamped his mouth shut. He’d take the girl up with Dell later. He needed to call Ortega or Hampton, have them check Danny out. Or the sheriff. As soon as he reached for his cell, he cast that idea aside. With the waters rushing over the banks of the Rio Grande, all the first responders would be out trying to save lives.
For the moment, Dell was safe.
Safe. The irony of it stopped him for a half a second as he headed toward the door. The investigation was pushing on, and Dell would never truly be safe until his buddies at DEA cleared her. And if they can’t? He hurtled off the front porch and headed back to the house, making it in record time in spite of his dark thoughts.
• • •
Dell rested a hand on her forehead, shielding her eyes from the dim floor lamp in the corner. Jovi’s worry over her was sincere and apparent, even in her muddled state. But why had he been out in the storm? He must have carried her — she realized suddenly that someone had helped her change, too. She stroked the velvety sweater, and fought to focus. Rosa, of course. Still, Jovi’s picture had been in her grandfather’s desk. The fact Danny had attacked her didn’t lessen Jovi’s betrayal at all.
Unbidden, the feel of his hand soothing away her pain came back to her, and another solitary tear slipped from an eye before she could blink it away. For a few brief moments, she thought about calling Rosa to keep her company and sending Jovi back into the storm — back to his own, deceitful world. Then the door opened, with rain blasting more loudly until the panel swung shut, cutting it out. Jovi shrugged out of his rain gear and came toward her, his eyes still troubled. Soon enough, she thought. Soon enough, she would send him away. But not tonight.
Light caught and glinted in his hair, and his teeth flashed whitely as he gave her a brief smile, then he touched her forehead and trailed a finger across her cheek. “So how do you feel?”
“Like I got hit up the side of the head with a shovel. A very heavy shovel,” she retorted, relaxing under the soothing caress of his fingers.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You really should see a doctor, but this weather — ”
“I’m fine. A little shocked,” she answered truthfully, thinking of Maribel. “But fine.” She glanced at Jovi, rocked back on his heels, and shook her head. This time, the slight movement didn’t bring sharp darts of pain and nauseating dizziness. Reassured, she smiled. “Get a chair before you fall,” she suggested.
He stood up wordlessly and pulled the recliner close, but perched on the edge.
“Are you going to stare at me like that for the rest of the night?” she demanded, not entirely comfortable with his closeness now that her throbbing head didn’t buffer the awareness of his presence.
He nodded. “Pretty much.”
“But — ”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous a blow to the head can be?” he challenged. “There’s no way I’m going to leave you alone and find you in a coma — or worse — tomorrow morning.” The tenderness in his eyes took most of the sting out of the sharpness of his reply, and she found herself watching him intently. How could this man — this agent of Lionel de Cordova — care? He did, though, and she pressed her hand over her eyes and held the comfort close.
• • •
At some point, Jovi must have let her drift off. Dell woke in an empty living room with the smells of guisado and beans scenting the air. She checked in with Rosa, busy over the stove, who assured her Michelle and Amy were watching Becky. Rosa insisted she didn’t need help, so Dell went up to her room, worry eating at her. She walked over to the window, casting a glance up at the sky. The leaden gray color hadn’t changed, except that a darker band of clouds was forming already. Dell frowned as she pulled on jeans and a lightweight turtleneck.
Would this unexpected, unusual rain never stop? The fact it was barely drizzling at the moment had very little to do with the fact that rain from a tropical depression was expected to continue through the afternoon and night. Upriver, in Del Rio, alarm was spreading with the river, which had already covered the flood plains. And now the Rio Grande would bring not only Del Rio’s water rushing down to the Gulf of Mexico, but all the rain water still falling on south Texas.
Shaking her head, she took a jacket from the closet and left the room. Becky came out of her own room, smiling sunnily and pulling a bright, floral umbrella behind her. Dell laughed and swept her up in her arms, kissing her cheek.
“Hi, princess. Whatcha doing?”
“Play,” Becky said seriously, and Dell laughed again and shook her head.
“I’m afraid not, sweetheart,” she said. “The water in the yard’s already deeper than you are tall. Maybe you can get Amy or Michelle to read you a story?”
“Okay,” Becky agreed without argument, and wiggled out of Dell’s arms. “Amy! Mitchell!” she called, trundling through their open door.
Dell smiled through the pain of thinking about what tomorrow’s meeting might bring. That she could lose this precious little person was simply unimaginable. She stuck her head in to check on the girls, who were giggling over some sitcom on the television. Becky made herself at home between the two girls, propping her head on little hands and gazing at the television. Dell’s grin faded as she reached Maribel’s door. She knocked briskly, then swung the door open and stepped in.
The room, for once, was neat; everything had been picked up since she had paid a visit to the girl earlier this morning. Maribel sat in a corner of the bay window, staring blindly out at the gray sky and rain-soaked yard. In spite of her anger and res
entment over Maribel’s behavior, Dell couldn’t help feeling a twinge of pity over the girl’s desolate expression.
“Your room looks nice,” Dell ventured, and Maribel turned her head reluctantly.
“Yeah. I figured I’d better clean it up. Before I leave and all.”
Dell tapped her leg idly with her fingers, considering the girl. “You surely can understand why it would be hard for me — wrong for me, really — to let you stay?”
Maribel nodded without speaking.
“Patricia — Judge Ovalle-Martinez — and I are meeting tomorrow. Over Becky.” Dell saw color sweep through the girl’s face, and the teenager looked away again. She sighed. “Maribel, if I lose Becky … ” She shook her head. “You have to know, I wouldn’t want you here if you could do that much harm.”
The teenager didn’t turn, drawing into herself and making a slight gesture akin to a shrug. “Yeah.”
Dell hesitated, common sense and anger warring with a flicker of compassion. Strangely, she thought fleetingly of her mother — elegant and aloof. Unable to care. “No one’s going to understand this — I’m not even sure I do. But I thought I’d talk to the Judge about you staying until school starts — if they don’t place you out first.”
Maribel turned back, clearly confused. “Why? I almost got you killed — not that I knew he’d hit you, but still — ”
“You endangered all of us, Maribel. Most of all yourself. What kind of a man forces a sixteen year old into the position Danny put you in? You’re lucky he didn’t use the shovel on you when you confronted him.” She shook her head. “This is your very last chance with me, girl — and it’s not up to me, really. Don’t waste it. I won’t fight to keep you here. And — well, never mind. I suppose I can’t threaten you with the outcome of tomorrow’s hearing.”
“Would it help if I told the Judge what I did?” the girl asked slowly, her eyes full of fear, but her face resolute. “Because if it will … ”
Dell regarded her soberly. “Thanks, Maribel. Hopefully I don’t need to involve anyone in this. Surely the agency needs proof of wrongdoing to remove her. Anyway, part of the problem is that her mother may want her back. I’ll have to face that possibility sooner or later.” She started toward the door, then paused and turned back.
“Maribel, there’s something I don’t understand. This morning, when we talked — I didn’t think about it then. But how did you call the agency? They should have been able to trace the calls back here, and someone should have asked about them.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t call from one of your phones,” she explained guiltily. “Danny had a cell phone he loaned me. He didn’t want Rosa to catch me on the phone.”
“Hmmm.” Dell nodded and pulled the door open. She was almost out in the hall when Maribel added, “Or the drug guy.”
Puzzled, Dell hesitated, then pulled the door firmly shut behind her. Undoubtedly Maribel was referring to one of Danny’s contacts. She thought about asking, but realized there would be time for that later. She had gotten almost all the way to the kitchen door before she remembered the photo of Jovi Treviño in her purse. And the rumors about the newest of the De Cordova businesses. Pushing aside her suspicions, she headed for the barn, slogging through water that rose to her ankles.
In spite of the early hour, the lights in the barn were all on. She could hear the sounds of nervous horses, banging stall doors, snorting, anxious whinnying. Pete greeted her with a nod as she came in, shaking his head as he looked out the door.
“Rain ain’t nearly over,” he said. “Horses don’t like it a bit, either.”
“It has gotten a bit old,” she agreed. “Even as badly as we ranchers usually need rain.” She stopped to pet Red Sugar Cash, murmuring to the mare. Sugar didn’t seem overly upset, and Dell was glad all over again that she hadn’t been sold. How could she ever sell this mare, her father’s favorite? She thought of the deal that had fallen through because of her refusal to include Sugar. It didn’t bother her, though — she wouldn’t part with Sugar, and that was final.
“Have you seen Jovani?” she asked Pete, and he paused, leaning on the rake he was holding.
“Well, yeah, sure. He was here not too long ago, checkin’ on the horses.” He waved a hand at the far wall of the barn, and she noticed a line of neatly stacked sand bags piled up against the back door. “Water was already getting’ through. He don’t figure it will out and out flood, but the horses don’t like water coming in. They may be standing in some by nightfall if we can’t pump and fan it out.”
“And Jovi did that?”
“Him and me. And he hooked up a pump, just in case, and has the big fan we used to use in the old stallion barn working. He said he could dry out some of the moisture if he had to.”
“And where is he now?” she asked, glancing around.
Pete shrugged. “Might have gone to lie down. He looked really tired.” Dell nodded. She could easily understand that, since he’d spent the night sitting in a chair, talking to keep her awake. Then he had apparently come straight to the barn to work on protecting the horses.
“Shall I go get him?” Pete offered, and Dell quickly shook her head.
“No. It really isn’t anything important.” She walked back over to the door and looked up at the gray sky consideringly. “How long do you think the rain will hold off?” she asked.
Pete joined her, turning his own weathered face up to study the dark, oppressive ceiling. “A while, I guess. I don’t think we’ll get any more hard rain. The problem is gonna be the river.”
“It won’t come up this far, will it?” she asked. Pete had been around when the flood of ’54 had washed out Laredo’s first international bridge and damaged much of the city.
“Could,” he said shortly. “But most likely it won’t.”
Dell nodded thoughtfully, then went back and pulled open the stall door, leading Sugar out and tying her to the ring on the door.
“¿Que haces?” Pete asked, startled, as she retrieved a saddlecloth and threw it over the mare’s back.
“I’m riding down toward the river,” Dell said matter-of-factly, and went to the tack room, coming back with the mare’s saddle and bridle. Pete was watching her in befuddlement, clearly questioning her sanity as well as her actions.
“Don’t worry,” she told him reassuringly. “I just want to see the water level and be sure the cabaña’s closed up tightly. They said on the news the level’s rising pretty quickly. I’ll be safe on a horse.”
“I could drive you down,” Pete offered.
“No. I think a horse is safer. The truck can get into mud and get stuck. Sugar’s as steady as they come. If the weather gets any worse again, we’ll just turn around. Don’t worry about us.”
He watched her balefully, concerned anyway. “Does Rosa know?” he asked finally, and she shook her head.
“Heavens, no! You know she’d be out of her head with worry if I told her. She knows I’m down here. I’ll be back before she has any reason to check.” She tugged at the girth then patted the mare’s neck. “Don’t you worry, Pete. And don’t you dare tell Rosa I left. I don’t want her sending a search party.” She swung up in the saddle and guided the mare toward the door. Sugar threw her head and pranced a little when cold water sloshed up over her fetlocks, but obediently headed toward the paddock gate when Dell insisted. Pete watched them, frowning, then, grumbling in Spanish, went back to his work.
• • •
Jovi started, waking from sleep abruptly, then lay quietly for a minute, listening to the silence around. Nothing moved in the small, two-bedroom foreman’s house. But something felt … strange. Wrong. He rolled out of bed, still fully dressed except for his boots, and walked over to the window that looked down toward the barn. Nothing seemed out of place … but then, farther off, a flash of red snared his gaze. Stunned
, he watched as Dell and Red Sugar Cash disappeared down the trail that led toward the river and the cabaña.
Cursing under his breath, he pulled on his boots and a jacket. Cold anger lanced through him, settling heavily in his stomach. The woman was riding out into an oncoming storm, oblivious to the threatening clouds overhead. Headed, apparently, to the riverside cabaña, which might already be flooded. There was no logical explanation. Grimly, he thought about Brock Hampton’s call from Monterrey. Both she and De Cordova, Hampton said, had disappeared from the ballroom for some time. He had seen them talking, later, from across the room. And although Hampton said they appeared to have argued, if Dell and her grandfather were truly estranged, why had she been in that house at all?
He shoved his hat down and went out, hurrying toward the barn. He went in quietly, looking around, but he could hear Pete at the far end, yelling at one of the nervy Arabians as he tried to muck the stall. He considered calling the groom over and inventing some excuse for his unusual ride, but decided against it. Working alone, Pete might not miss a horse he’d already fed. And if he did … well, explanations could wait.
Quickly and quietly, he pulled a bridle from its peg and led the Appaloosa out of its stall. The spotted horse shied and fidgeted as he led it outside, but he swung up on the horse’s bare back and dug his heels into its sides, forcing it to follow the same water-soaked path Dell had taken moments before.
• • •
Dell kept glancing apprehensively at the sky as she rode, but the weather seemed to have broken for the moment. Except for a momentary spatter of cold, wet drops and the unbroken gray clouds, the rain had stopped. Unwilling to gallop because of the wet, slippery ground, she still urged the steady-footed mare on at a rapid trot.
As she neared the descent in the path leading down to the cabana, the water ran off, allowing a clear view of the path. Still, the heavy, clay-based soil was slick, and Sugar slid a couple of times, throwing up her head in concern and slowing even more. The trees, still obscuring some of the path, were rain-soaked. Wet branches splattered Dell and slapped heavily at her face and arms when she couldn’t avoid them.