Flood Zone

by Dana Mentink

She watched the officer straighten and splash along the road, his boots dislodging sprays of water under the rubber soles. As subtly as she could, Mia reached for the door with one hand, fingers gripping the metal catch.

  With the other, she kept the cup at her mouth, hoping to help conceal her face.

  Her stomach was a lead weight as the cop waited for Fiona to roll down the window.

  “Hello, ladies.” He peered at Mia. “Where are you headed?”

  Don’t tell him about Spanish Villa, she begged silently.

  “Pine Grove. Shop’s up there.”

  He nodded. “Road’s flooded ahead. Going to redirect you east about ten miles and then you can double back.”

  Fiona sighed. “I should have listened to the weather reports more closely.”

  “More rain coming. Just evacuating the lower elevations now, but might need to expand that.” He looked closer at Mia. “You all right, miss?”

  “Yes, I’m okay. I needed a ride, and Fiona was kind enough to stop for me.”

  “That right?” He took in the bedraggled hair, the scratches on her face from her plunge through the trees. Was there a dawning of recognition on his face? Would there be a request for an ID next? The roar of her own pulse deafened her.

  A slow smile spread over his face. “Great to see people helping each other in times of emergency, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she said, her sudden movement spilling some of the tea on her lap. She wiped at it with her sleeve.

  “You headed to Pine Grove also?” The officer pinned her to the spot with his hard look. Her breath caught and she could not hide the shaking of her hands.

  “I...” Mia started.

  Fiona broke in. “I’m taking her to see a friend who’s gonna help get her and her little daughter fixed up in a new place.” Fiona looked at her watch. “When do you think you’ll wave us through? I’d sure like to get this old truck in the barn before nightfall.”

  The officer gave Mia another long look before he consulted his radio. “All clear,” he said and began to wave the drivers on to the detour.

  She hardly dared breathe. As they rolled by she kept her gaze fastened out the front window, feeling the officer’s eyes on her. How could he not hear the slamming of her heart into her ribs? Guilt had to be written all over her face in vivid ink.

  Fiona gave the cop a final wave as she eased the truck by. When they were on the road, a good half mile past the roadblock, Fiona sighed.

  “You want to tell me about it?”

  Mia started. “No, I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right.” Fiona sighed. “I knew whatever it was that happened back there, you were anxious to get away from that guy and his dog.”

  She’d seen Dallas and Juno. And completely misunderstood. “They weren’t...”

  Fiona held up a hand. “I don’t need to hear about it. You’re anxious to get to Spanish Villa and just as eager to avoid the police, but you seem like a nice kid and I’ve got a soft spot for moms and daughters. Here.” Fiona removed a plastic-wrapped sandwich from a bag. “We’ll split it.”

  Mia was going to decline but just then her stomach let out a hollow rumble. Humbly, she accepted the sandwich. “Thank you so much, Fiona. How can I ever repay you?”

  “You can tell me I make the best ham-and-pickle sandwich you ever ate.”

  Mia managed a grin. “I think it might be the only ham-and-pickle sandwich I ever ate.”

  Fiona laughed. “Close enough. We’ll be passing Spanish Villa in about a half hour. Sit back and enjoy these luxurious driving conditions.”

  And Mia did, eating every scrap of the sandwich and clinging to the knowledge that with every mile, she was that much closer to finding Gracie.

  * * *

  Dallas and Juno endured a miserable hike back to the truck. Dallas kicked himself mentally every rugged step along the way. He’d distrusted Juno and lost his chance to catch Mia. Now he was playing catch-up in a big way.

  He called Mia’s phone again. No surprise when she did not answer. She didn’t want to involve him further. Involved? Mia I’m more than involved now. I couldn’t walk away if I wanted to.

  The thought surprised him. He knew she did not want him in her life, nor Gracie’s. And he would never force himself into a situation where he wasn’t wanted. All true. But also true was the fact that like it or not, he felt deep down in the place where only truth can survive that he was meant to save Mia Verde Sandoval.

  He phoned Antonia. She answered before the first ring had died away.

  “Dallas? Did you find out anything?”

  The Verde women were strong, determined, practical. It would do no good to sugarcoat, nor would he disrespect her by doing so. In the words of his mother, “Every woman’s got a spark, Dallas, and adversity turns it to fire.” And oh, how he’d fanned his mother’s spark into flame. He’d seen it blazing in her eyes when she’d stumbled upon the gun hidden under the seat of his car. He blinked the memory away.

  “I didn’t catch up to her.” Juno gave him the look. Full confession. “Juno found her but I messed up.”

  Satisfied, Juno set about licking his paws clean.

  “I know where she’s going, I’ll meet her there. I need Susan to tell me where Catherine lives.”

  There was muffled conversation as Antonia consulted Susan. “She says it’s a street in Spanish Villa.” Antonia told him the address.

  He set the wipers in motion and started the truck. “Are you both all right?”

  “We’re at a Red Cross shelter in Pine Grove. The chief is supposedly on his way, says a volunteer.” She paused. “I’m hearing radio reports about the flooding. It’s really bad—road closures all over and a bridge, the Canyon Creek span, is all but underwater.”

  Dallas let her talk as he headed off. When she ran down, she said what she most needed to get off her chest.

  “I feel helpless. I should be searching since I was the one...”

  “Antonia, stop right there. We both know who is at fault here and he’s going to pay for that.”

  She let out a soft breath. “What if you’re too late, Dallas?”

  “I won’t be.”

  “I’ll pray for you.”

  “That’s the best thing I could ask for.”

  The only thing.

  SIXTEEN

  Fiona let Mia out on a patch of moonlit road at the entrance to the Spanish Villa housing complex. Mia gripped her hand in thanks. “You’ve done more for me tonight than you know.”

  Fiona squeezed back. “Take care of yourself, honey. You’re strong. You’ll make it through whatever it is that’s got you in the crosshairs.”

  One final squeeze and Mia hopped down, avoiding the mud. The sky was leaden with clouds, but the rain had tapered off to a heavy mist. Though she still felt the grit trapped under her jeans and top, her clothes were more or less dry and her belly was not grumbling, thanks to Fiona’s gracious gift of a ham-and-pickle sandwich. Had Dr. Elias given Gracie anything to eat? Fear engulfed her in such a tight clutch she had to stop and fight for breath, steadying her shaking legs by locking her knees. One more check of the phone. Still no message and her battery wouldn’t last forever.

  Go find out where he’s got her, and get your daughter back. She set off.

  Enormous houses with red tile roofs and white stucco exteriors perched on well-manicured lots. It was a point in her favor that the houses were spaced far apart and the weather kept residents inside, perhaps packing in case evacuations reached even this higher elevation. She had only been to the doctor’s house once, for a clinic party which included all the employees.

  Fleeting memories trickled across her recollection of the event. White napkins, delicate cheeses and imported olives, plush carpets and a swimming p
ool in which Gracie had paddled for hours until her button of a nose was sunburned in spite of the cream. Mia’s throat ached with unshed tears until a crazy idea flickered into her consciousness. Was it possible he’d brought Gracie here? Catherine had been at Finnigan’s for some reason. If she was just as guilty as her husband, this might be the place they were hiding her.

  New resolve flooded her with energy. She practically sprinted to the top of the hill, to the last house at the end of a lonely cul-de-sac. Dr. Elias’s house.

  Knock on the door? It would give them a chance to lock Gracie away or call the police on her. Heart thundering, she moved closer, trying to piece together some sort of plan. A set of arched windows with fancy iron grillwork decorated the side of the house. Most were dark, but golden light glowed from the farthest one. She moved silently to the edge of the neat stepping-stone walk, keeping to the shadows. Did the doctor have a dog? She didn’t think so. Too finicky, too controlling. He wasn’t the dog-loving type.

  You weren’t either, until you met Juno.

  And Dallas.

  Mia realized that she had changed in a lot of ways since encountering Dallas. She had been too far away to see his face, as she got into the truck and left him on the side of the road, but she could imagine the anger and frustration. It stabbed at her. Why were her feelings a jumbled spaghetti mess whenever she thought of him?

  Jaw clenched, she pushed the hair out of her face and shored up her strength. He shouldn’t have followed me. His job is done. It was all on her now.

  Her and God.

  She drew level with the window now, fingers on the cold metal grillwork. A quick look. She readied herself to move when a hand went around her mouth, muffling whatever scream she might have managed.

  She thrashed against the strong arms holding her, iron bands that kept her fastened against a rock-hard chest.

  “Quiet” came the hissed whisper in her ear.

  Dallas held her there for a moment, captive against him, and then slowly he turned her around, uncovered her mouth and pulled her into the shadows behind a potted shrub.

  She couldn’t decipher her own rattling emotions. He looked down at her, moisture beading on his tousled hair, a scratch running the length of his cheek, hands on hips, lips hard with anger. “Mia...” he began, then with a sudden rush he pulled her close and kissed her, palms cradling her head.

  The warmth rushed through her in a delicious wave and she kissed him back, forgetting for a moment, everything but the elation that swept through her. A tide of warmth, safety and belonging thundered through her, beating back the desperate fear. When they both ran out of breath, he pulled away and put his forehead to hers.

  “Sorry. Shouldn’t have done that. You’re a pain in the neck to keep track of.”

  She laughed, a quiet, wobbly chuckle that emerged over the sparks still showering through her. “Where’s Juno?”

  “He’s in the truck because he’s not good at quiet. And he’s massively upset about it. What did you see inside?”

  “I didn’t get that far.”

  He started toward the window.

  She grabbed his wrist. “Dallas, I’ve thrown everything away to find my daughter. You shouldn’t. You have a future without us. I don’t want you going to jail for me.”

  The moonlight flecked his eyes with an inner glow. “Noted.” He continued to the window and looked inside.

  “Didn’t you hear me?”

  “Yes,” he said, still peering into the house. “I heard you, but I’m not obeying. There’s a difference.”

  She huffed, uncertain whether to be angry or pleased.

  He moved away from the window. “Catherine’s in the back of the house. It looks like there’s a living room that opens onto the patio. Let’s see if we can get in that way.”

  “What if Dr. Elias is inside?”

  “Unlikely. His car isn’t in the garage.”

  Mia sagged. “I was hoping that he brought Gracie here.”

  “Don’t think so, but we’ll find out where. Let’s go.”

  “Dallas,” she tried again to stop him. This time she put her palms on his chest, feeling the strong beating of his heart. How could she tell him what it meant that he had come to find her? And that she could not allow him to stay? “This is wrong, breaking into someone’s house. If you help me do this, there’s no going back.”

  “No, Mia,” he said slowly. “This is right, that I’m here with you now and we’re going to get your daughter back.”

  “It’s not worth it for you. I can’t repay you in money, or...” She looked at the ground.

  He tipped her chin up, his thumb gently tracing the curve of her lower lip. “I know you have a life to build somewhere else. I understand that. This isn’t about payment. It’s about what’s right.”

  She closed her eyes tight. “Everything’s mixed up, Dallas. How can you be sure what’s right?”

  He waited until she opened her eyes. “You pray and you take your best shot at it.”

  “I haven’t had a good track record figuring out what’s right, but...” She faltered. “I’ve asked His help this time.”

  Dallas smiled, moonlight illuminating the joy on his face. “Amen to that.” He opened his mouth to continue, but instead he pulled her into the shadows. “Security vehicle,” he breathed in her ear. “Stay still.”

  Easy for him to say, she thought, from the circle of his arms. Pressed against his ribs, her chin next to his, her heart was puttering like a motorboat. She was sure it might give out altogether as it ricocheted between comfort at being near him and utter terror about what could be happening to Gracie, to an odd peace that came when she’d given the situation over to God. A mixed up spaghetti jumble to be sure.

  When the car passed, she disentangled herself from Dallas and got to her feet, breathing still hitched and unsteady.

  “Ready?” he said, infuriatingly handsome in spite of his sodden condition.

  “Are you really sure?”

  “Mia,” he said, cutting her off. “If you ask me that again, you’re going to go wait in the car with Juno.”

  She was not completely sure if he was joking or not, as he headed off toward the patio.

  * * *

  You kissed her? Again? What part of the plan was that, you dope? The woman was running from the law and terrified for her daughter. He had no business kissing her. He willed his gut to stop quivering like jelly at the residual sensation of her lips pressed to his. He felt like Juno when they first worked together and the dog was more interested in rocketing off after enticing birds than engaging in a search and rescue. Impulse had overridden his good sense. Yet he could not deny the irrational happiness that sprang up in his soul that Mia had invited God in.

  Still, had he really kissed her? He had. The electricity still tingled through him.

  Focus already, would you?

  He pulled his mind back to the present. As soon as Catherine caught sight of them, she would call the police or bolt. Since there was no way he wanted to hurt her, that gave them only a few minutes tops to see if they could convince her to rat out her husband or, if she was an accomplice, to bluff her into thinking she and the good doctor were caught.

  Not much of a plan, but he couldn’t think of anything better.

  They reached the patio just as Catherine Elias stepped out. Dallas and Mia watched from behind a screen of bushes as she turned on the propane gas, and a fire pit sprang to life. She watched it burn in silence. The flames danced high in the darkness.

  Mia burst out into the circle of light. “Where’s my daughter?”

  Catherine screamed, hands pressing a file folder to her chest. “What are you doing here?”

  Dallas stepped forward so she could see him, too. “Your husband kidnapped Mia’s daughter, Gracie. We’re here to
find out where he took her. Mia said you have a cabin in the mountains. We need to know where.”

  Catherine’s mouth opened in an O of surprise. Or was it anger? He couldn’t tell. She took a step toward the house, but one step only, eyes shifting in thought.

  “Why would he take her?”

  She knew something. Maybe everything. “He wants us to hand over the photo that you took to Peter Finnigan that can incriminate him in Asa Norton’s murder.”

  “Asa Norton? The man who drowned all those years ago?” She cocked her head as if listening to the sound of far off music. “Susan’s husband.”

  “Are you helping him?” Mia fired off.

  “Helping? You think I helped my husband kill Asa?”

  “No, but he also murdered Cora Graham and Peter Finnigan. You might have pitched in for those.”

  Catherine’s mouth went slack. “This is insane. I’m not a murderer.”

  Dallas could not be sure it was disbelief or lying. Women confounded him. He had no chance of reading her right, but he pressed on anyway. “You went to see Peter Finnigan, just before he was blown up.”

  “Blown up? What are you talking about? He was perfectly fine when I left him.” She sank down on the brick patio wall, heedless of the moisture. “This can’t be true.”

  “It is true,” Mia protested. “You know I’m not lying, don’t you?”

  She chewed on a thumbnail. “I suspected something was going on when that woman Susan showed up, stalking me. He said he’d treated her for a minor injury after her husband drowned and she became fixated with him.”

  “But you didn’t believe him?” Mia pressed.

  “Not really. There have been other women,” she said wearily. “I suspected Susan was another one of Thomas’s flings and he was trying to cover up. But then things started to happen. Cora died. This thug from Miami showed up. And I found Thomas shredding files. These files taken from the clinic.” She waved the folder at them. “There’s nothing in them now. They’re Cora’s. Most were destroyed, but I saved one without him knowing. The photo was in it along with a newspaper clipping about Norton’s death.”