American Heroes Series - 03 - Purgatory (33 page)

BOOK: American Heroes Series - 03 - Purgatory
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Shane and Alec waved him off,
talking as they went. “Are there any hot chicks wherever you’re taking me?”
Alec wanted to know.

Shane gave him a queer look. “At
a gaming store?”

Alec shrugged. “Yeah, that’s what
I thought. Not only am I living like a pioneer, I’m living like a priest, too.”
He called back to Nash as they passed into the central hall. “Don’t tell my mom
I said that!”

Nash grinned, tossing a paper
towel away as Penelope got up from the table. “I’m going to get my stuff,” she
said, pausing when she came near Nash. “They won’t be able to see me, right?”

“Who?” he asked.

“The guys in the lineup.”

Nash shook his head. “No, honey,
they won’t.”

She thought on that a moment.
“Good,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about what happened and it occurred to me
that when I was running down the road and then pushed down from behind, I
thought I heard a woman’s voice, too.”

Nash’s eyebrows lifted. “A
woman’s voice?”

Penelope nodded. “It was weird,”
she said. “I remember someone hitting me from behind and I fell down into the
ditch.  Then I remember people following me down into the ditch and calling me
‘sweet thang’ and all that, and as these guys are trying to touch me, I kept
hearing this woman’s voice screaming at them.  It was, like, high-pitched,
screeching-like.”

Nash listened to her seriously.
“Did you hear what she said?”

Penelope thought hard. 
“Something like ‘eat her’ or ‘beat her’. I couldn’t really tell. But I know for
sure it was those hillbilly guys that came around after Alec was attacked. I
definitely know it was them.”

Nash remained cool and patient
with her as his mind raced with the possibilities. He suspected who the woman
was simply by the way Penelope described her voice. Biffy Loreau had a voice
much like that and wasn’t beyond egging her grandsons on during an attack.

“We’re going to determine that
for sure this morning,” he told her. “Did you tell the Sorrento detectives
about the woman?”

She shook her head. “That only
really came to me yesterday.  I guess I was so out of it I didn’t realize it.”

Nash patted her arm in a
comforting gesture. “That’s okay,” he told her. “Go get your purse so we can
go.”

Penelope grinned. “We’re still
waiting for my mom. It’s going to take her longer than twenty minutes.”

Nash gave her a half-grin. “So…
in the future, I need to multiply her estimate by a factor of two?”

Penelope laughed as she mounted
the kitchen stairs. “Exactly,” she said. “For example, if you want to leave by
five o’clock, tell her she needs to be ready by four o’clock. It’s the only
safe thing to do.”

She skipped upstairs, leaving
Nash and Beck alone. Nash’s thoughts were lingering on the woman Penelope had
mentioned when he realized it was just him and Beck in the kitchen. He hadn’t
really spoken to his son since their blow up yesterday.  He had even gone to
sleep next to him the night before simply because he felt so bad about what had
happened, but when he woke up, Beck had already been up and getting coffee.

He and his kids never fought, so
he was rightfully disturbed but he figured Beck would talk to him when he was
ready. He glanced at his son’s lowered head as he turned back to the sink,
wiping out his coffee cup simply to give himself something to do.

“Dad,” Beck’s quiet voice filled
the silence.

Nash glanced over at him.  “Yes, son?”

Beck was fidgeting with a napkin
on the table. “Hey,” he groped for words, having difficulty expressing what he
was thinking. “Well… um, I’m sorry I got mad at you yesterday.  I shouldn’t
have done that. I didn’t mean to call you cheap.”

Nash leaned back against the
sink. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said. “I’m just sorry that this whole
thing with Elliot has upset you so much.”

Beck shrugged. “It’s not that,”
he said. “I’ve been thinking about it and I guess … dad, for six years, it’s
just been you and me and Shane. It was our own tight family.  We always talked
about things, you know, like a family should. We made decisions together. I
guess… I guess I was just upset because you didn’t talk to me and Shane about
Ms. Ellie before you did anything. I guess I looked at it as a decision that we
all should have made together, but it’s not like that at all. I’m sorry I got
mad at you.”

Nash sat down at the table across
from his son. “I can understand where you’re coming from,” he said softly. “And
you’re right; it was just you and me and Shane for six years. I love you guys
more than anything on earth. But just like I wouldn’t expect to have the final
word in any relationship you or your brother would have with a woman, I expect
the same courtesy.  Even if you don’t agree with it, all I ask is that you
support my choice just like I would support yours.”

Beck nodded. “I
do
support
you, Dad,” he insisted. “I guess if you really want to know the truth, I was a
little jealous.  Now it’s not just the three of us anymore.”

Nash nodded faintly,
understanding his boy’s point of view. “Ellie’s a very special lady,” he told
his son. “But what I feel for her doesn’t diminish my love for you and Shane. Y’all
are my flesh and blood.  All I ask is that you give Ellie a chance, okay? It
would mean everything to me if you would just do that for me.”

Beck was already nodding before
Nash finished his sentence. “I can already see that she’s a good person. She’s
funny.”

“Yes, she is.”

“And her kids are okay. I like
Penny.”

Nash smiled faintly. “I know you
do,” he said. “So… do you think that we can all get along as one big, happy
family?”

Beck was still tearing up the
napkin in his hands. When he looked up and saw his father grinning at him, he
broke down into snorts of laughter.

“Don’t marry her, Dad,” he said
as he laughed.

Nash’s eyebrows lifted. “Why
not?”

“Because it would be too weird if
I was dating my step-sister.”

Nash just rolled his eyes. “You’d
better back off of that talk, son,” he said, standing up and stretching his big
frame. “If Penny catches wind of that, she’s going to think we’re a bunch of
kissin’ cousins down here.”

Beck snorted and stood up from
the table, captured by his father in a bear hug before he could get away. Beck
hugged him for a moment before forcing Nash to let go.

“Geez, Dad,” he pushed the man
away. “Stop getting so clingy. You’re embarrassing me.”

Nash chuckled at him.  “It
wouldn’t be the first time,” he said. “While we’re waiting for the women, do
you want to take a look around the place? It’s your heritage, after all.”

“Can we go down into the crypt?”

“Sure.”

“Do you really think there are
ghosts down there?”

“Hard to say.  But if you believe
in that kind of thing, maybe.”

Beck was fired up about going
into the underground room.  He and Nash disappeared down the narrow, secret
staircase just as Elliot and Penelope came down the main staircase.  Elliot had
changed into tight jeans, a pretty white blouse that, even though it covered
her up, was jaw-droppingly sexy, and a pair of strappy white sandals with a
four inch heel.  With her hair pulled back into a ponytail, she looked fresh
and lovely. Penelope was a bit more demure in jeans and pink t-shirt. 

Penelope began to look around for
Nash and Beck as her mother stuck her hand in her purse and dug around.

“Where’s Nash?” Penelope wanted
to know.

Elliot was looking for her sunglass
case that held a pair of two-hundred dollar designer sunglasses. “I don’t
know,” she said, looking around. Then she called out. “Nash?”

She heard a faint response so she
and Penelope headed towards the front door, expecting to be joined by the men.
But Elliot began to smell paint and she gasped with delight as she realized the
painter already started in the double parlors, a gorgeous ivory color that
would go perfect with the ivory curtains and gold tones she was planning on
using in the parlors.

The old walls had been stripped
and very carefully buffed because they were of
bousillage
and plaster.
When the paint went on, it showed the imperfections underneath but Elliot loved
the imperfect look. As she stood there and beamed at the ivory paint going up
on the walls, she felt a body behind her.

Nash was looking up at the walls,
too. “Hey, that’s nice,” he commented. “I like it.”

Elliot grinned excitedly. “The
double parlors and the library are all this same
Ivory Tulle
color,” she
told him, as if he really cared. “The central hall and the staircase will be a
color called
Ivory Snow
.” The further back you walk in the house,
however, the rooms will all graduate from this ivory color to almost an ecru. 
The ballroom and kitchen will be a color called
Ivory Sands
.”

“But not the dining room.”

She shook her head, so excited to
talk about paint colors. All of the ancient bathrooms, secret rooms and ghosts
aside, this was the fun part of home restoration and she was thrilled.

“The dining room has that
hand-painted wall paper, which we’re going to restore.  I’m thinking about
turning the ballroom into a big family and game room. What do you think?”

He nodded. “I think it’s a great
idea. It’s a big room.”

Pleased that he liked her idea,
she turned around to watch the painters very carefully stroke ivory paint on
the molding above the fireplace. “I’m going to turn that little back bedroom
upstairs into my office and I was thinking that the library could be yours,”
she turned to look at him again. “We can turn it into a man-cave, but not too
tacky.”

He grinned at her. “You mean I
can’t have a big ol’ buffalo head above the fireplace?”

“Not on my watch, buddy.”

He laughed and put his arm around
her shoulders, pulling her out of the house. Beck and Penelope followed, waving
at Beau as he perched on a second-story scaffold looking down at them. 
Outside, it was mild and a bit muggy, but not too bad.  The sun was shining
brightly in the brilliant blue sky.

“Where are y’all going?” Beau
called.

Nash waved at him. “We’ll be
back.”

It wasn’t the answer Beau was
looking for so he just shrugged his shoulders and pointed at his nephew.

“Bring me back some lunch,” he
told him.

Beck just waved his uncle off,
not wanting to shout to the world that he wasn’t going to be back for lunch
because he was going to take Penelope on a drive along the River Road. He went
to his truck just as his dad, Elliot and Penelope went to Nash’s sheriff’s
cruiser. The four of them stared at each other in confusion as to why they
needed two cars until Penelope went towards Beck’s truck.

“I’ll ride with Beck,” she said.

Nash and Elliot looked at each
other, shrugged, and climbed into his car. The two vehicles then carefully
maneuvered out of the driveway, dodging state cars and contractor trucks.

As they headed towards the
Sorrento Police Department, which was less than a mile away, Nash kept glancing
over at Elliot, looking beautiful and stylish sitting next to him. He finally
put his hand on her thigh and she smiled at him, gripping the hand that rested
on her leg.

“You are so beautiful,” he said
softly, almost wistfully. “Do you have any idea what I feel every time I look
at you?”

She shook her head. “No, what?”

He sighed, watching the road
ahead. “Like I’m the luckiest man in the world. I told you that once, Ellie; I
meant it. Every day I spend with you is the best day of my life.”

She caressed his big hand. “Have
you always been this sweet or is it just with me?”

He laughed softly. “I guess you
bring it out in me.”

She watched him, the handsome
lines of his face. “Have you dated much since your divorce?”

He shook his head. “No,” he said
honestly. “Call it a lack of worthy candidates, but I just haven’t gone out
much in the past few years.”

“No girlfriends at all?”

He thought about the question.
“There was one gal from Baton Rouge I dated for about three months,” he said.
“She worked in the governor’s office.”

“What happened?”

He shrugged. “She was nice enough,
but there just wasn’t much of a connection once we got down to it,” he said.
“Besides, she was only interested in being with someone who could further her
political agenda. She was one of those socially progressive Southern women your
mama warned you about.”

Elliot giggled. “Where I come
from, those aren’t the people my mama warned me about,” she said. “Out where I
come from in Southern California, you generally avoid three groups: anyone in
the entertainment industry, professional athletes, and Persians from Beverly
Hills.”

Nash wriggled his eyebrows.  “I
think that covers almost everyone in California, right?”

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