Flood Zone

by Dana Mentink

  “Kid’s a loose cannon,” Stiving had insisted. “Drinks and parties like his father.”

  Runaway or lost, Dallas and Juno found the kid named Farley who’d fallen into a ravine, and the press was there to catch it. Since then, Dallas had gotten a bogus speeding ticket and been stopped twice by Stiving for no particular reason. Not good, but in a small town like Spanish Canyon, Stiving was it.

  “Doc says you’re making allegations about drugs,” Stiving said, holding up the bottle of pills nestled in an evidence bag. “Looking to get some more publicity for yourself?”

  “Juno alerted on that pill bottle.”

  “Juno is a drug-sniffing flunk-out, from what I’ve heard. I thought his forte was tracking down idiots who get lost in the woods.”

  Mia wiped her sleeve across her cheeks. “What kind of talk is that for a law enforcement officer?” she said indignantly. “Cora is...was a long-time resident of this town. I should think you’d want to be thorough investigating her death.”

  His blue eyes narrowed, face blotching with color. “Yes, Ms. Verde, I will. I started by running a check on you. It made for interesting reading. Since you’ve had such a long and storied history with law enforcement, I guess you’d know that I’ll be contacting you for follow up information as soon as I get this to the lab.”

  Mia went white and then red.

  Dallas clenched his jaw. Don’t mouth off to the cops, Dallas. “We saw a woman with red hair running away from the house.”

  Stiving blinked. “Really? Did you recognize her?”

  Mia shook her head. “She might have come to the clinic to talk to Cora, but I’m not sure. I only saw her for a moment.”

  “And you?”

  Dallas shrugged.

  “Right. Well, we’ll investigate that while we’re checking into things.” The detective’s phone rang, and he walked away to answer it and then left abruptly.

  Mia put a hand on Dallas’s wrist, her fingers ice cold. “I have to go. Tina needs to get home, and I want to read Gracie a story before bed.” She looked at her soiled clothes. “It will take some explaining about why I look like this.” Her lip trembled. “I’ll need to tell Gracie about Cora.”

  He wondered how a woman with filthy hair, torn clothes and a grief-stained face could look so beautiful, like Whistler’s painting of the woman in white he’d seen in his mother’s art books decades ago. Would she be so trusting if she knew the truth about what brought him to town? Dallas had been many things in his life, a gang member, a wanderer and a drinker. He’d never been a liar, not until now, with her. It tightened something deep in his gut. He had to remind himself he had good reasons for the subterfuge.

  He’d been hired by Antonia, Mia’s sister, to keep watch over her due to the prevalence of Mia’s ex-husband Hector Sandoval’s many enemies. Cora, a friend of Antonia’s new husband, was in on the whole thing. An accomplice, he thought ruefully, who’d arranged for Dallas to hang out on her property just as often as the stubborn and ferociously independent Mia did.

  He returned to the truck where Juno was sound asleep and waited until Mia got into her car. Following her home, he ran things over in his mind. Cora was obviously disturbed when she messaged both Dallas and Mia. How coincidental was it that her house burned down and she lost her life on the very same night Mia spotted some mystery woman fleeing the scene? Very coincidental, and Dallas Black did not believe in coincidence any more than he believed that Elvis still strolled planet Earth.

  He walked Mia to her front door and waited while she stepped into the tiny front room.

  Four-year-old Gracie came flying down the hall, short bob of hair bouncing around her, eyes alight with pleasure at the sight of him. They’d encountered each other many times at Cora’s house while he was on the roof and she was digging holes around the property. When rain interrupted the roofing, they built card houses together, impressed with their creations until Juno knocked them over with a jerk of his tail.

  “Did you come to play?” She took in his appearance and laughed. “You need a shower, Mr. Dallas.”

  He laughed, too, and Mia tried to draw Gracie away.

  “Can he come in for a snack?” the child asked. “I’ve got Goldfish.”

  Dallas got down on one knee. “You eat goldfish? Don’t the fins get stuck in your teeth?”

  She giggled. “They’re cracker fish. Juno will like them.”

  “Juno can’t have Goldfish tonight, but we’ll come another time.”

  She frowned. “Okay, but what if I don’t have Goldfish then? Mommy eats them sometimes when I’m asleep and she’s off her diet.”

  Mia’s face flushed, and Dallas hid a grin.

  “Tell you what, Goldfish girl. Next time I come with Juno, I’ll bring some Goldfish along. How’s that?”

  She nodded, finally trotting off into the kitchen.

  “You don’t have to make good on that promise,” Mia whispered as she let Dallas out. “As a matter of fact, I’d rather you didn’t promise her things at all. I know you’d never mean to disappoint, but Gracie’s been let down in a big way by her father.”

  “No sweat,” he said. Something flickered in her face, something thoughtful. “You’re not planning to go to the clinic, right?”

  Mia jerked. “How did you know I was thinking about that?”

  “Call it a knack. Don’t go there by yourself, just in case whatever she was looking into has something to do with the fire.”

  She stayed silent.

  “If you do have to go, I’ll go with you.”

  She offered a courteous smile. “Thanks, Dallas. I appreciate it.”

  But you’ll never allow it. He understood. He recognized the shadows that danced in her eyes for what they were. Fear. A desperate, ponderous weight of fear that she did not want to expose to anyone. Who would? He’d known that, tasted that when he was being beaten within an inch of his life during his gang days. That fear was hideous and bred on itself, multiplying exponentially the longer it was kept in the dark, like a poisonous fungus. He wished he could tell her. There is only one antidote, One who could defeat that fear. Instead, he remained silent until he heard the sound of the lock turning.

  Juno and Dallas made one more stop on the way home, purchasing a bone for Juno and a handful of hot peppers for himself. With some help from the store clerk, he also secured five bags of Goldfish crackers, which he stowed in the back of his truck. Who knew Goldfish came in so many flavors? Dallas smiled to himself. Gracie knew, and that was enough.

  TWO

  The parking lot was empty, quiet, save for the patter of a cold rain and the scuff of Mia’s shoes as she made her way to the darkened clinic hours later. She was grateful that Tina offered to stay late. It was almost eight by the time Mia embarked on her mission. She knew she should have called Dallas, but the only thing that scared her more than what had happened to Cora was the thought of losing herself to another man who would betray her and Gracie. She realized her hands were in her pockets, hidden away, a habit she’d developed after she’d stabbed her husband.

  The horror lapped at her afresh. Her own hands had lashed out with that knife, powered by terror that Hector would kill her and take Gracie away into his corrupt world. She would never have done it, but she believed, heart and soul, that Hector meant to end her life. After Mia’s arrest, she’d endured six months of jail time, knowing Gracie was with Hector, near people both ruthless and greed-driven, the worst being her own husband. After her release, she’d fled with Gracie, unaware that Hector would soon concoct a plot to outwit his enemies that involved kidnapping her sister, Antonia. While her sister fought for her life on a hurricane-ravaged island, Mia hid out like a frightened rabbit.

  Sometimes her mind told her it was a dream, a nightmare, but she still remembered the feel of that knife in her hand and how
her life had almost ended because she trusted the wrong man in spite of her father’s warnings, Antonia’s pleadings. In spite of her own troubled intuition.

  Never again. Better to go it alone. A quick stop at the clinic. See if by chance Cora had left anything there that might be of help. In and out. Something wheeled along by her feet, and she gasped. Just a leaf, torn loose by the storm.

  She bit back a wave of self-disgust at finding herself scuttling along, cringing at every leaf. She was an office clerk at the Spanish Canyon Clinic after all, and Cora was, had been, a volunteer. All perfectly aboveboard. But why had Cora originally insisted they wait until long after closing time to meet?

  Her throat ached when she thought of her friend. Had she suffered? Had she known her house was burning around her?

  Quickening her pace she sought shelter from the spring rain under the awning, keys ready in her hand, heart beating a little too hard, too erratically. Cora’s nightmarish death came on a date that already held terrible memories, her wedding anniversary.

  An annual reminder of the worst mistake of her life. But Hector had been so gentle when they’d first met, even professing to be a Christian, until he’d begun to worship another kind of God, the god of money, power and excitement, when he’d gotten involved in the drug trade. It was long over. Hector was jailed on new charges, the divorce finalized two years before, but Hector did not want to accept his losses, so she lived as anonymous a life as she could manage.

  With teeth gritted, she wondered—Had Hector found her again?

  His reach hadn’t extended to Spanish Canyon, Colorado. Not this time.

  Wind carried a cold spray of rain onto her face that trickled down the back of her neck. She wished there was someone else around, the janitor, a late working nurse, anyone. They might be parked in the underground garage, she thought hopefully. With a surge of relief she saw the lights on in the back of the building where she and Cora shared a desk.

  Jamming her key in the lock, she left the rain behind and headed down the silent corridor to the rear of the building. She did not know what she hoped to accomplish. Maybe it was all just a way to keep busy.

  Cora’s desk was bare, save for a paperweight rock engraved with the words Be Still. An impossible task, it seemed, for the nearly eighty-year-old woman who had recently decided to learn Italian and tour Europe. Her eyes were drawn to her own desk. Shadows must be deceiving. Silhouetted in the lamplight was a vase full of long-stemmed roses. Trancelike, she moved closer and turned on her own work light. Yellow roses, which had once been her favorite. A gilt-edged card.

  I’m sorry. I love you and we can be a family again. Hector.

  Sweat beaded on her forehead. It was as if he was there, right there, standing in the shadows. Fear turned into hatred for the man who had stripped away her belief in herself.

  Hector didn’t strip it away. You handed it over, wrapped in a bow.

  The floor creaked, and she spun around with a scream.

  “I’m sorry,” Dr. Elias said with an apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was working late and noticed the florist had been here. Nice roses. Curiosity won out, and I checked the card.” He raised an apologetic eyebrow, the fiftysomething face calm and serene. “My wife says I’m incurably nosey, and I hate to admit that she’s got me pegged.”

  Mia forced out a calming breath. “I’m surprised to see you here so late.”

  “Insomnia. It usually sends me to the computer to play solitaire, but I get tired of beating myself, so I come here sometimes.”

  “Did you...did you hear about Cora?”

  He nodded, mournfully. “Tragic. Cora was an excellent lady and a noble spirit.” He shook his head. “Why do the good die before their time?”

  It was a question she’d asked many times to a God who’d never given her a straight answer.

  Dr. Elias cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m glad you came so you could get your flowers, but why so late? Insomnia trouble for you also?”

  She was about to tell him about the prearranged meeting with Cora, but something stopped her. “I just wanted to clean up Cora’s desk.”

  “Looks clean already.” Something in his inflection made her wonder if he’d been looking through Cora’s belongings. Ridiculous. Crazy suspicion.

  He surveyed the ceiling for a long moment. “It’s good, actually, that we have a private moment so we can talk. I feel as though I have treated you well, hired you on in spite of your criminal record.”

  She winced. “Yes, you have. I appreciate that.”

  “It was Cora who went to bat for you, you know. She felt passionately that you would be an asset to this clinic. I was reluctant, I’ll admit.”

  Mia started. She hadn’t even known Cora when she moved to Spanish Canyon. She’d been following a lead on a job that her sister had dug up. Close to nursing school. Quiet town where nobody knew her.

  “So I’m loathe to ask it, Mia, but when were you going to mention the truth about your criminal husband?”

  She kept her chin high, even though at five three she barely reached his shoulder. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. “Ex-husband.”

  He blinked, his smooth complexion bordered by a distinguished head of gray hair that went well with his stature as head of the town’s largest general medicine clinic. “I knew he was abusive, you were arrested for stabbing him I realize, but you didn’t quite tell me the whole story. The flowers got me curious and I did a little checking. Nosey, just like my wife says. He wasn’t just an abusive spouse. He’s a Miami drug kingpin with powerful friends.” His pale gray eyes locked on hers. “You didn’t feel like you should mention that?”

  Mention it? She was too busy trying to forget it.

  “Is that why you don’t use your married name? Sandoval?”

  “It’s not my name because I’m not married anymore. I haven’t been for years. Simple as that.”

  He looked at the ceiling again while he talked. “Not really so simple. I’ve tried to support you here, to give you the hours you need to get you through nursing school and help you earn some money to keep food on the table for Gracie.”

  She didn’t like it when he said Gracie’s name, for some reason that she could not articulate. Did she feel the swell of distrust when she looked at him because he had the same self-assured manner as Hector? The doctor had been nothing but gracious.

  “I would do anything for my own kids, as you know. It hasn’t always been easy to afford everything times two, but that’s the price of having twins. Jake and Renee are both in private high school now, so I understand wanting the best for your kids. But why lie? Especially to me.”

  “I never lied. You asked about my ex-husband, and I told you the reason I was sent to jail.”

  “You neglected to mention your husband is a Miami drug lord. You thought you’d pulled the wool over my eyes, didn’t you? Simple country doctor. Easy to do, you figured?”

  “No, nothing like that, really,” she said.

  The phone buzzed again.

  Something sparked in his eyes. “Omissions are lies, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” His brow furrowed. “It pains me to do it, it really does, but I have a professional obligation, no matter what my personal feelings are. My patients have to have absolute trust in me and my staff, and if you’re still getting flowers from a drug kingpin, I can’t risk having you here.”

  Mia would not let him see her cry. Head high, she nodded. “I’ll be out of here in fifteen minutes.” She went to the desk in the corner of the Spanish Canyon Clinic and shoved the picture of Gracie into a bag along with a collection of notepads. Cora’s Learn Italian Today book was on her desk, under a box of tissue, and she scooped it up as well. She’d never dropped a phone call, never misplaced a file or been anything but pleasant to everyone and even that wasn’t en
ough to overshadow her disastrous marriage.

  Blinking to keep the tears at bay, her mind ran wild. No job. How would she finish school? Would it be the end of her dreams to finally give Gracie a stable, normal life? Her phone demanded her attention again and this time she yanked it from her pocket. It was a text from Dallas.

  Ok?

  Was she?

  Dr. Elias still stood there, filling the doorway with his blocky shoulders, a look of indecision on his face. “This husband, Hector. He’s tracked you everywhere, hasn’t he?”

  One of the notepads sliced into her finger giving her a paper cut. She shook off the sting angrily.

  “Hector must be jealous.” The lamplight etched Dr. Elias in tight shadow. “Have you given him reason?”

  She froze. “What?”

  “The tough guy with the dog. I’ve seen him talking to you. Hector can’t be happy about this.”

  Seen Dallas? Something cold trickled through her. Why had Dr. Elias noticed whom she’d been talking to?

  He flicked a glance into her bag. “You’re not taking any clinic information, are you?”

  She burned. “No, Doctor. I would not behave unethically, even after I’ve been wrongly terminated.”

  A glimmer of a smile lit his face. “I always liked your spunk, Mia Verde Sandoval. Too bad.”

  Mia grabbed her bag and purse and went to the door, but he barred her path.

  He didn’t move, just watched her as if he was weighing something in his mind. He reached out a hand to touch her forearm, but she recoiled.

  “Hold on. I can see the truth now. You didn’t lie to deceive, you lied because you’re afraid.”

  Her breath caught and she shook her head.

  “Yes, that’s it, isn’t it? You’re afraid that Hector will find you.” He stared closely at her. “No, you’re afraid that you can’t trust yourself, your choices, your judgments.” He took her arm.