California Girl (30 page)

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Authors: Patricia Rice

Tags: #humor, #contemporary, #roadtrip, #romance, #Route 66, #women's fiction

BOOK: California Girl
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“She’s on her way to Albuquerque.” He glanced at Lucia, who
watched him almost as intently as Alys. “Your aunt is anxious to see you.”

Lucia brightened. “She said we will see great big balloons.”

“Yes, lots and lots of them. So let’s hurry.” He climbed from
the truck and held out his arms for Lucia and Purple.

Alys climbed down to follow them to a grassy area where they
let the kitten romp. Purple wasn’t ecstatic about the leash. “I don’t see any
purple cabs,” she murmured for Elliot’s ears alone, eyeing the parking lot.

“If the crooks are looking for Beulah, we’ve lost them this
time,” he agreed. “I don’t see how they can possibly follow us now. That truck
looks like every other truck in the lot.”

Alys looked around, and he was right. One old pickup looked
like any other. Theirs had a camper on top, but so did several others, all in
the same battered state of repair. It wouldn’t be as comfortable as Beulah, but
it would be safer.

“We might want to keep Lucia out of sight, just in case,” he
said in a low voice so the child couldn’t hear. “I’m trying to block the view,
but there’s only so much I can do.”

She hadn’t realized he’d hidden Lucia between a stand of
trees and a Dumpster; anyone casually glancing from the lot wouldn’t know she
was there. “We’ll have to take her in to the rest room.”

Frowning, Elliot scanned the shops. “Let’s take her into the
café instead of the store. I’ll carry her and cover her head with your hat.
We’re all dark-haired, so she’s not too noticeable, but let’s not take
chances.”

He was behaving as if they had the Mafia after them, but
Alys figured she would do whatever it took not to experience any more terrifying
incidents. She’d wanted to experience life, not die of it.

Wearing his Stetson and boots, Elliot looked like half the
other men out here, except tougher and leaner and more aware of his
surroundings as he waited outside the rest room while Alys ran in with Lucia.
Only the kitten on its leash diminished his Clint Eastwood stance.

She was starting to adjust to this tough side of Doc Nice.
She supposed truly bookish physicians didn’t achieve what Elliot had achieved
in such a short time. The man had grit and determination. And a bad heart, she
reminded herself.

They
emerged from the café with cookies and fruit drink and returned to the truck.
Purple settled on the floorboard to take a nap, and Alys crossed her legs in
the seat to accommodate him. Placing her hands palm-up on her knees, she tried
to locate her center while Elliot steered the truck out of the lot.

Maybe
she should change her mantra from
Love
is the power that heals
to something involving
peace
. She desperately needed peace
for her frantic heart. And they needed a peaceful ride to deliver Lucia to the
reservation.

And
love
was a very dangerous topic. It was quite impossible to
love someone after just six days, she told herself. But they’d spent those six
days living in each other’s pockets, through stress and sex and beauty. They
knew each other’s idiosyncrasies by heart, right down to what they preferred to
eat and why. It was possible.

It just wasn’t probable or very smart to love another man
who could check out on her far too soon, leaving her alone again.

For some reason, she had difficulty remembering Elliot was
ill. He was too vital.

Deciding if he didn’t want to think about his health,
neither would she, Alys scanned the view out the windshield. “We really are in
the mountains,” she exclaimed as they drove onto the interstate.

Elliot hadn’t asked her for the Route 66 directions. The
time for side trips had passed.

“The colors aren’t as spectacular as back East. You should
see New England in October.” He spoke with calm assurance but continued
checking his mirrors as well as the traffic around him. She watched his jaw
tense, and her nervous stomach performed a flip-flop.

Alys checked the side mirror. All she could see was
interstate traffic. She watched Elliot, but he didn’t look at her. “Do you see
anything ?” she asked, keeping her voice casual while digging around in the map
bag she’d hung over the headrest.

“Can’t tell for certain. The road’s full of semis.”

She glanced over her shoulder. It was almost impossible to
see clearly through the pickup and camper windows. “Should I drive next?” The
interstate signs indicated the Santa Fe exit ahead. She should have thought of
driving earlier, but she’d had horrendous fears of attacks on snowy mountain
roads and had willingly acknowledged Elliot’s expertise.

“No.” He didn’t offer explanation.

The cell phone rang, and they both looked at it as if it
someone had dropped a burning torch in their midst.

Alys grabbed it first. “Hello.”

“Alys! Thank goodness. We’ve been worrying ourselves to
death. Where are you? Is everything all right?”

“Mame! We’re fine. We’re just turning off the road into
Santa Fe. Where are you? Can we meet you somewhere?”

Elliot stuck out his hand for the phone, but Alys refused to
relinquish it. He needed to concentrate on driving.

“We’re in Albuquerque, near Balloon Fiesta Park. I’ve found
Jock. Dulce’s frantic about Lucia. Could you put her on?”

Remembering the name from the conversation last night, Alys
held the phone to Lucia’s ear. “Your aunt wants to speak with you. Say hi.”

She could tell Elliot was about to shoot the roof off again,
but he had his hands full in the traffic at the bottom of the exit ramp. Mame
sounded fine. If he could drive around without doctors and hospitals, so could his
aunt.

Lucia listened carefully, brightened, and began to chatter
cheerfully in Spanish. The aunt’s excitement at her chatter came through
clearly. When Lucia halted, Alys took the phone back. “Dulce?”

A soft contralto answered. “Yes, Mrs. Seagraves. It is
wonderful to hear Lucia talking again. I would hear how you did it.”

“Long story involving her
bisabuelo.
First, tell me, how is Mame? We’re worried sick about
her.”

“She is resting. I think she is ready to go with you when
you arrive. But we think it may be better if you meet us at the reservation.”

“Why?” Alys could hear the concern in Dulce’s voice, but
they hit a patch of static and she couldn’t ask more.

“It is not safe here,” Dulce was saying when her voice came
back in. “There may be…bad men looking for us. Mame thinks her friend Jock will
take care of her, but I am calling my mother to take me to the reservation. It
is not safe for Lucia until we know more. If you could keep her…”

“Tell us what’s happening so we know what to expect,” Alys
urged.

“We don’t know for sure. Lucia’s grandfather . . .
we think he has men looking for us. They know our car. We hid it last night . . .
” Static drowned out the rest of the sentence. When she came back in again, she
was saying, “If anyone recognizes Lucia . . . ” More static. “ . . .
do not bring her just yet
.”

Alys bit her lip in frustration. The signal was growing
weaker. “I think they’ve seen her,” she yelled back. “I think they’re following
us. We’re not—” She glared at the cell phone. “It’s dead.”

Elliot jerked the phone adapter from the cigarette lighter
hole, rummaged around for the lighter, and plugged it in. “The lighter doesn’t
work. We weren’t recharging the phone’s batteries. I should have kept it
plugged into Beulah.”

Lucia swung her head back and forth, her braid flying,
taking in every word that they spoke. Alys couldn’t scream her frustration or
cry her fear. “We don’t even know how to reach them.”

“Do we need to?”

She hated adding any more worries on his plate, but he had
to know all that she did. “Eventually. Mame’s with her old boyfriend and thinks
all is fine.”

“Boyfriend?” Elliot turned to stare.

Alys chose not to share and continued. “Dulce seems less
certain. She’s calling in her family.” She smiled for Lucia’s benefit. “Your
aunt is planning a party. We need to give her a little time to call everyone.”

How much time should they delay? What could Dulce and Mame
be planning?

She and Mame had intended to take a walking tour of Santa
Fe, but that wouldn’t distract a child. Remembering the tourist attractions
she’d just read about in the guidebook, she rummaged in the bag for it. “I
know, we can see the Children’s Museum! That will give them time to prepare a
party.”

“I don’t think she has any idea what a museum is,” Elliot
said, checking the side-view mirror and steering into the traffic, evidently
dismissing his earlier question for something of greater importance. “I’m going
to get us a little turned around while you consult the map.”

Alys glanced over her shoulder again, but it was still
impossible to see out the back. Her window mirror was broken. Frustrated, she
consulted the guide book for an address and the map for a location, as if this
were really just a pleasure outing. “The road off the interstate takes us right
past the museum.”

“Sorry about that.” He swung the wheel hard to the right,
into a residential neighborhood. “We’re taking a side trip first.”

She swallowed a gulp of fear and clutched the guidebook. “We
need a compass. If we keep going north, we could see the old part of town.” She
was talking like a tourist while he was driving like a maniac. Denial was the
better part of valor, she decided.

“I have an excellent sense of direction. Tell me if you see
a good place to eat.” With that, he took another quick turn and merged into a
busy intersection with a heavy flow of traffic.

He wasn’t eating Tums or rubbing his chest. Alys had to take
that as a good sign. She had no other choice. Hospitals were out of the
question if the bad guys were on their trail again.

Chapter Twenty-two

“I’d give anything for my Rover right now,” Elliot muttered,
swinging the truck into the heavy traffic of a major Santa Fe artery, ignoring
the assortment of semis barreling past. “I think I’ve lost them, but keep an
eye out for a car rental agency and somewhere that might have a place to
recharge the phone.”

That sounded like an excellent idea to Alys. Just precisely
what kind of men did Lucia’s grandfather have on their trail if even Lucia’s
aunt was afraid of them?

They located a car rental agency first. Telling Lucia to
stay seated, Alys hopped from the old truck when Elliot climbed out.

“Are we still being followed?” she demanded to know.

“I don’t know for certain. A semi with a purple cab fell in
behind us in Las Vegas, but I haven’t seen them since we took that little
detour. I think we need a faster car, one where we can plug in the phone. I’ll
charge it up while I’m talking with the agent, and hopefully that will give us
enough to check voice mail just in case Mame calls again.”

He strode off, in full command of the situation, while Alys
shook in her shoes. She cautiously glanced around for a semi, and seeing none,
returned to the pickup. Snapping on Purple’s leash, she helped both the cat and
Lucia out of the cab.

“Let’s see if we can guess which car he’ll choose,” she told
the child, gauging the lot behind the agency to be safer than the street.

Lucia didn’t think this a strange occupation, and she
happily danced along beside Alys, admiring the bright red of one car and her
reflection in a shiny black SUV while Alys checked to see if they could be seen
from the street.

She
hated
this. People had almost
killed
them
yesterday. Those same people were still out there. Even having some suspicion
of why they were being followed didn’t ease her terror.

Had yesterday’s drivers known Lucia was in the car? Or had they
been told to stop them any way they could? Surely they had just been hoping to
frighten them into pulling off the road.

Keeping a vigilant eye, Alys could see only a few sprawling
shopping centers along this road. She didn’t think they were big enough to get
lost in. Santa Fe was too broad and open through this stretch. Maybe they
needed to find an airport and just fly away.

She kept an eye on Elliot through the rental company’s big
picture window. He looked relaxed and confident as the clerk completed the
paperwork. Would she have thought of renting another car?

No, because she didn’t have that kind of money. Maybe
Elliot’s confidence came from having sufficient funds to pay for whatever he
needed.

She
tried again to think of a mantra that included “peace,” but the only one she
could summon under these conditions was
Give peace a chance
.
That didn’t cut it. She might as well choose
Give peas a chance.
Or
give pizza chants.
She was getting hysterical
again.

Both Lucia and Purple were straining at the bit by the time
Elliot loped out to the lot in search of them.

“I’ve called the number Sam gave us to tell him where he can
find his truck. The agent is pulling our car around so we can load her up.”

To Alys’s surprise Elliot bent over and kissed her—hard, right
there in the lot where everyone could see.

As if he hadn’t done anything unusual, he picked up Lucia,
tickled her, and started for the street. Alys grabbed the kitten and followed,
her lips still tingling from the kiss. That hadn’t been a kiss of lust, but one
of affection and appreciation. She could easily get used to kisses like that.
It had been a very long time since someone had showed her affection, and her
lonely heart clung to the sentiment.

Elliot hadn’t rented a shiny new SUV but a nondescript white
Taurus sedan that barely held their suitcases. She couldn’t imagine that it had
any of the power of Beulah, but it would certainly blend into traffic as well
as the old pickup. Better. And it had tinted windows.

“The museum’s back through town.” Elliot buckled Lucia into
a child’s seat and handed her the backpack to rummage through. “The cell won’t
charge while the car is parked, so I’m leaving it plugged into the office
outlet. We have to come back this way when we head for the interstate anyway.”

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