California Girl (36 page)

The cop shrugged. “Mendoza figured her family would come
after her sooner or later. He was prepared. His lawyers are already burning up
phone lines keeping him out of jail.”

Alys clung to the comfort of Elliot’s embrace and wondered
if she should feel joy that Lucia was safe or feel sorrow that her grandfather
was such a pitiful man. She was too tired to reason it out. Thanking the
policeman, staying at Elliot’s side, she dragged her feet toward the elevator.
She was too exhausted to even feel relief that they were leaving the confines
she so dreaded. Her arm throbbed where they’d stitched it in the emergency
room. She probably ought to take the painkillers she’d been given, but she’d
wanted to stay alert for Mame’s sake. And Elliot’s.

“Come on, we’ll put you to bed. I know you’re tired when
you’re not bouncing.” Squeezing her shoulders, Elliot led her downstairs.

To their surprise, several groups waited in the lobby,
huddled over coffee or stepping outside the door for a smoke. At their
appearance, everyone converged on them with questions about Mame.

Milo and his friends presented Alys with a slightly drooping
calla lily for Mame’s room. Accepting the plant, she hugged them all.

With black eyes and split lips, looking as rough as the
bikers, several of the truck drivers hung back and waited for their turn. Both
groups had apparently settled their differences over a few beers, if Alys was
any judge of breaths, but she didn’t know their faces, just their expressions.
When one of the truckers tentatively stepped forward and Elliot tried to pull
her away, she shook off his protective gesture to meet the man halfway.

“The guys wanted you to know we’re real sorry for scaring
you like that.” He looked guiltily at Alys’s wounded arm. “And we’re even
sorrier about the lady getting hurt. Mackie’s kinda nuts, carrying that old
shotgun everywhere he goes. It went off half-cocked. The cops have him
downtown. None of the rest of us carried weapons. We were just . . .
We thought…”

“We know.” Alys held out her hand to him. “You were looking
after Lucia, just as we were. We don’t blame you for the confusion.”

The driver shook her hand, then glanced warily over her
shoulder at Elliot. “You pack a mean right,” he said, as if that smoothed the
waters. “There was three of us and only one of you at that hotel. I don’t want
to be on your wrong side.”

“Did I tell you how Alys can break boards with her bare
hands?” Milo interrupted, boastingly. “Look at that tiny thing! You guys didn’t
stand a chance.”

“Karate? You know karate? Hell, if you two ever want to hire
out as drivers . . . I don’t think Hank is ever gonna live down
the way you bluffed him out and got away.”

Alys heard Elliot chuckle and relaxed. She sent him a
knowing glare over her shoulder, but he just squeezed her shoulder.

Leaving the drivers and bikers to discuss fights they’d
shared, she followed Elliot over to the balloon crew waiting anxiously for some
word of Mame. They’d known her only a few days, but she was already a friend.

After Elliot reassured them that all was well for the
moment, one of the men handed Elliot a ring of keys. “We had the tires
replaced. Thought Mame might be needing these.”

The Taurus was still at the hotel. The keys must be to the
SUV that Mame had stolen from Elliot. Alys watched with sinking heart as Elliot
clasped the keys to freedom in his hand.

“Give me the invoice and I’ll pay you back,” he told them.
“I can’t thank you enough for looking after my aunt for me.”

Alys didn’t listen to the exchange of pleasantries after
that but drifted to the plate-glass window overlooking the parking lot. Against
the black night, all she could see was her reflection. Had she been fooling
herself into thinking she’d be needed here?

Elliot came up behind her. She could see the weariness in
his reflection, but he merely put his arm around her and steered her toward the
parking lot where the crew had said the Rover was located.

They drove back to the hotel with only the mechanical voice
of the SUV’s computer guidance system breaking the silence. Alys watched
Elliot’s profile in the pale light of passing street lamps. Self-sufficient and
contained, he didn’t need her help through the empty streets, just as he’d
traveled through life alone without her.

He
was probably already regretting the bonds they’d shared. She knew what happened
between them wasn’t her imagination. She
felt
things.
And what she was feeling now was scary. She might believe Elliot needed her,
but he’d lived on his own for a very long time. He might not hold the same
belief.

It wasn’t until they were in the hotel elevator that Alys
realized they had two rooms at their disposal now. Mame wouldn’t need hers.

“I didn’t look for Mame’s keys,” Elliot said, as if hearing
her thoughts. “Do I need to go down to the desk and ask for a copy?”

“No.” She might not know what she wanted of the future, but
she knew what she wanted tonight.

“Good.” He sounded relieved as he opened the door to their
room.

The king-sized bed beckoned. Alys didn’t think she could
even manage a shower. Elliot decided the matter for her. Leaning down, he
kissed her. When she responded with every ounce of energy left in her, he swept
her off her feet and carried her to bed. Jerking back the covers, he lay her
fully clothed upon the sheets.

“You need rest,” he said gruffly. “You’ve lost blood.”

“Not to mention a year of my life in sheer fright.” Not
really agreeing with him, Alys lifted her good arm to tug him down with her.
“Tonight doesn’t count for much in the scheme of things.”

Apparently willing to agree, Elliot climbed in beside her.
He propped himself up on one arm and leaned over her. Alys traced the scar
beside his mouth with her fingertips, then traced his lips. She was terrified
of what the future held. She couldn’t bear to lose Elliot. She saw so much
compassion and knowledge in his eyes—all trapped inside him and looking for a
way out.

He kissed her eyelids closed. “You should rest.”

“I won’t.” She slid her palms over the soft cotton of the
black T-shirt, then tugged at the sleeves of his jacket.

He shrugged the coat off, lay down, and pulled her into his
arms. “I’ll hold you until you go to sleep.”

“If you think I’ll go to sleep like this, you don’t know me
well.” She rested her head on his wide shoulder and slid her hands over his
chest and towards his waistband. She knew what he needed because she needed it,
too.

Elliot buried his face in her hair and didn’t stop her. “I
think I might burst if I don’t have you right now,” he murmured. “I just didn’t
want you to think I expected it.”

She smiled and worked on his belt buckle. “I know how to say
no when I want to. We nearly died today. I think a little life is called for.”

Wordlessly, Elliot pulled off her turtleneck and her
sweatshirt at the same time. He kissed the curve of her breast over her bra,
then unfastened the bra. “Holding you warm and naked reassures me you’re alive.
If you’re tired—”

“I’m not dead yet. I’d have to be not to want you.” There,
she’d said it. Sort of. He could make of it what he would. She conquered his
belt and started on his zipper.

Elliot rolled her over, crushing her wandering hands between
them, leaning over to take her nipple into his mouth.

Yes!
she screamed inside her head
as pleasure coursed through her, feeding her strength. Freeing her trapped
hands, she ran them through Elliot’s unruly curls.

He tugged her hips free of her jeans and panties. She
wiggled them the rest of the way off while he discarded his shirt, trousers,
and shorts. Knowing each other’s desires well, they merged with a primitive cry
of need, seeking oblivion and sinking into it with the fierce mating of their
bodies.

Coming together, awash with the pleasure of satiation
afterward, they collapsed in each other’s arms. Alys didn’t need the pain
medication to ease the throbbing in her arm. Elliot’s proximity eased her and
sex had sedated her. She was asleep in minutes.

Elliot stayed awake long after, holding Alys against his
chest, stroking her sleek hair, memorizing every moment before the dawn.

He’d always had one focus until now. Alys had taught him how
narrow-minded that focus was. Now that he had a wider one, he had to resist the
urge to assume what he wanted was right for everyone. He needed to let those he
loved make their own decisions. He didn’t know if he could change, but he had
to try.

The first step would hurt the worst.

* * *

Chilled, Alys sought the warmth of Elliot’s body that
she’d come to expect beside her. Funny, how a person could get used to the
closeness so easily. It was as if she’d spent these last few years frozen in a
block of ice, and now she craved heat.

He wasn’t where she remembered him, but the bed was big.
Sleepily, she rolled over the other way, patting the sheets. They were cold.

The exhaustion of yesterday’s terror and loss of blood made
her groggy. Her arm hurt. She should take an aspirin at least, but her eyes wouldn’t
open. She dozed off again.

She woke to the noise of a vacuum cleaner in the hall
outside. Shoot. The maid would be knocking on the door, and she wasn’t wearing
anything.

She pried open one eyelid. Sunlight gleamed through the
crack between the room-darkening curtains. What time was it anyway? Elliot had
said something about taking Jock’s place at dawn.

She turned over and found the clock. Almost noon! She really
had been wiped. She knew the bed was empty before she sat up. Elliot had gone
to the hospital without her.

But they had two cars now. She could drive the Taurus over
and take a turn at Mame’s side. Mame! She needed to check to see how she was
doing. Elliot should have called to tell her how Mame was and what the doctors
had decided.

The vacuum whined outside the door. Wrapping a sheet around
her, Alys stumbled from the bed and looked for the DO NOT DISTURB sign. It
wasn’t there. Elliot must have hung it out for her, bless his heart.

Okay, next, find hospital number. She splashed some water in
her face, took an aspirin, and dug out the phone book. The hospital listing was
half a page long, but she decided on the admissions number and punched it into
the phone.

Adjusting the sheet, she waited for an answer, gave Mame’s
name, and waited for them to transfer the call.

After a brief interval, the clerk returned to the phone.
“Mrs. Emerson was transferred out this morning.”

Transferred out?
Alys frowned, verified they
were talking about the same Mrs. Emerson, obtained no further information from
the busy clerk, and hung up.

A pocket of terror formed in her heart.

She glanced around the darkened room as she hadn’t earlier.

Elliot’s suitcase was gone.

In disbelief, she staggered out of the huge bed they’d just
shared last night. His suitcase had been right there, neatly fitting on the
dresser. The trousers and shirt he’d discarded on the floor last night were
gone. His toiletries case had vanished from the vanity.

He’d left without her.

Panic raised goosebumps up and down her arms. How could he
do that? She was a reasonable person. He could have at least said some kind of
polite farewell. She would have understood.

Had Mame taken a turn for the worse?

Frantically, she snapped on a desk light, wondering if she
dared try Elliot’s cell phone. The thought of getting his voice mail caused a
lump in her throat.

A piece of hotel stationery covered in Elliot’s precise
handwriting waited in the puddle of lamplight, held in place by the orchid
she’d left sitting on the windowsill.

Snatching the note from the desk, she read while she lowered
herself into the chair. Her hand began to shake, and angrily, she fought back
tears.

She wouldn’t let him do this to her. She glanced at the car
keys lying on the desk. Damn him! That was the same as paying for her services.
She wanted to ram them down his throat. The despicable bastard! Who did he
think he was, taking charge of the world again?

She scanned the note again, trying to find her inner peace
so she could read sensibly, without all her fear and anger raging about,
knocking her senseless. He was flying Mame into UCLA, to some heart program
there. Good. This was productive.

Get a grip, Alys, read
slowly.

There was nothing about him. He gave her the name of some
friends in California in case she decided to finish the Route 66 trip. She
could leave the SUV keys with them. Or if she decided to stay in Albuquerque,
she could drop the keys in a mailbox when she didn’t need them anymore.

She
glanced at the keys again. She’d thought they were the rental car keys. He’d
left her
his
keys?

Was he really asking her to return the car to him? Would he
still be in L.A. if she drove there?

That was an awful small hook to hang her hopes on. Heart thumping,
she read more slowly. Elliot was flying Mame to California. Jock lived in
California. Jock was turning in the Taurus and flying home. Beulah would have
to stay at Sam’s until Mame could get her. If Mame needed surgery, Jock would
be there to help out. Elliot still didn’t mention his place in the scheme of
things. He told her to enjoy her journey.

He just gave her the facts and left her the keys—giving her
the freedom to do as she would.

The Range Rover was a far cry from Mame’s Cadillac.

Driving the highway, looking down from the high seat onto
other cars, experimenting with the guidance system, Alys let the sun beating
through the windshield ease the pain of Elliot’s absence.

He had set her free. She wasn’t entirely certain how to feel
about that, but she was about to find out.