Killer Kisses (16 page)

Twenty-five years of grief came roaring back into Lola’s chest and cry she did. She sobbed until Web gently pulled her out of his mother’s iron clutch.

Lola felt relieved when he took her elbow and led her to the door. Not only was it the anniversary of her husband’s death, but now she was reliving her parent’s death in their private plane crash the day they left Mexico to come to her high school graduation.
That terrible day.

He went back to his mother’s bedside. “Lola’s had a tough day, Mom. I think I’ll take her home now, okay?”

“Webster, you still have chores to do. Don’t be late.” A light seemed to dim in her eyes. “Tell your father to come in from the garden and wash his hands.”

“Okay, Mom. I’ll do that.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Get some rest, okay?”

Just as Web was about to close his mother’s door, the elderly woman called out, “Web? You take care and watch over Lola. She needs your help, her father was
not
a nice man.”

Lola froze in place, her gaze locked onto Web’s.

She walked back into Mrs. Bond’s room, poised to ask her what she meant. But the old woman was already asleep and snoring. She bit her tongue to keep from cursing.
What did Web’s mother know?

She had never learned who the other person was on the plane in addition to her mother, father and the pilot. It was a woman, the police had said, but forensic investigations were rudimentary twenty-five years ago, and no further information had ever been forthcoming.

Plus, Izzy had insisted that the teenage Lola come live with her and forget about the crash, saying it was an accident, nothing more.

Had it really been an accident?

~*~

Web took Lola’s hand and led her out to the car. She seemed dazed and he worried that she might wander off, like his mother. When he had her settled into the truck, he turned and said, “It’s been a rough day for you. Let’s get a bite to eat.”

“I’m not hungry. And my clothes---”

“Well, I am, and I’d like some company while I eat. There’s really cute place, very casual. Your jeans and tee shirt will be fine.” He put the car in gear.

Lola stared out the window with glassy eyes.

He wanted to engage her in conversation, so he started with a softball question. “So, which name do you prefer me to call you?”

“Lola. Lara’s for my art
persona
.” She chewed on her lower lip. “I’m not feeling very artistic right now.”

The crowd on Lakeshore Boulevard surged across the crosswalk, the police officer’s whistle, shrieking at those cars trying to slide by.

Web turned in his seat and tried to make eye contact with the woman beside him. “Lola.”

She glanced his way and their gazes locked.

“What’s really going on?”

She shook her head and clenched her hands in her lap. “You wouldn’t believe me, if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“No. Here in safe little Summerville, my story would make me seem more than
un poco loco
.” She pursed her lips and stared out the side window. The conversation was over.

Through some miracle of timing, a mini-van pulled out of a parking place right in front of Sips Coffee Shop. Web searched his pockets for quarters, but stopped when he saw the parking meter had a bag over its head that read, “Free Parking for Art Fest.”

Dickhead must be having fits over that.
Heade looked forward to those end-of-the-month quotas and all the extra revenues heavy parking fines brought in to his piggy bank. To be fair, the levies did help to finance parking and road improvements, but it sure seemed like Dickhead owned more custom suits than the previous Chief.

Web shouldered his way through the jostling crowd, pulling Lola behind him.
Why was she being so secretive?

A bell jangled as Web led Lola into Sips and Maggie LaMonica pointed to the only available table right by the window, facing Lakeshore Boulevard. Thinking she’d want to people watch, especially those who loved art, he moved the chair so she could have a better view. Instead, she turned the oak seat around, so she could face the restaurant.

Maggie stopped by the table and offered beverages and the special. “Art Fest salad, a colorful medley of local fresh spinach, strawberries and goat cheese, topped with a smattering of candied pecans, and dressed in a light mixture of balsamic vinegar. You can add grilled chicken, salmon, or shrimp for another five bucks.”

Lola stared into space.

Web handed the menu back to Maggie. “Two iced teas, no sugar and two of the Art Fest salads with chicken. Thanks.”

After Maggie left the table, Web grabbed Lola’s hand. “I’m here for you. Ready to listen, when you’re ready to tell me what happened.”

A single tear coursed down Lola’s cheek and she shook her head.

“Oh, my gawd! As I live and breathe, it's Lola Gomez with the Dweebster?”Beth Heade shrieked her way through the little shop to their table, only to grab Lola out of her chair and hug against her huge breasts. “I can’t believe the invitation made it to you.” Beth’s tone of voice held a strong note of regret.

That it arrived, Web wondered, or that Lola had the nerve to accept it?

Lola flashed him a
Help Me
look.

“Lola’s pretty tired from her drive, Beth. I’m sure she’ll be glad to catch up with you later on. Maybe at the awards dinner?”

Beth gave him a piercing look. “That is a
black tie event
. We are filled.” She focused on Lola again. “Sorry, honey, but the rules are the rules. We can’t bend them even for
special
friends.”

She tapped Web with a folded newspaper and said in a stage whisper, “A sworn officer of the court should be careful who he hangs out with.” She dropped the
Gazette
in his lap and it flipped opened. He focused on the
Remember Them
, column which featured Lola and the story of her parents’ fiery deaths.

“For God’s sake, Beth. Lola is sitting right here. What is wrong with you?”

“We don’t need
her
type here in Summerville.”

Web jumped to his feet. “I never took you for a racist.”

All heads in the restaurant turned in the direction of the argument. Web felt hundreds of eyes boring into his back.

“It’s not about her being a Mexican,” Beth mewled. “It's all her father, the head of a drug cartel. Who knows what she
really
does, who she
really
is? Read the article, Web. Ms. Lola has some ‘splaining to do.” And on that note, Beth turned on her heel and marched out the door.

Web wished for a bucket of water to throw on the witch.

Lola stood, glanced around the coffee shop at all the staring patrons and froze. A man in a baseball cap tipped his hat and returned her gaze with a smirk. Web wanted to punch the sneer off his face. The man threw a few bills down and sauntered out the front door.

Cringing, Lola pressed her face into Web’s chest. “We need to leave.
Now
.”

Food untouched, he tossed money on the table and headed for the exit. Just as they were outside and away from prying eyes, Lola’s phone buzzed. She yanked it out of her pocket and read a text message.

And fainted dead away into Web’s arms.

CHAPTER SIX

~*~

Lola was aware of Web holding her hand before she even opened her eyes.
It couldn’t be true
.
Her home—her studio. Torched? Everything destroyed.

Someone pulled her eyelid back and shone a bright light. Right eye then the left eye. “Pupils equal and reactive.”

She blinked and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and finally, she freed it enough to speak. “Where am I?”

“Welcome back,” a voice answered. “You’re the guest of the Mynderse Memorial Hospital ER.”

“I can pay my own way.” She sat up and the room spun. “What do I owe you?”

Dr. Henry Cho gave her an odd look. “No one said anything about money.”

She grabbed Web’s arm. “Get me out of here. The longer I stay, the more danger—”
Mierda.

Web looked at Dr. Cho. “Can you give me a minute, Hank?”

The white-coated physician nodded. “I’ll just go check her lab values.”

Lab values? She looked down. A piece of gauze was taped to her arm.
How had she not felt that?

“Lola, look at me.”

Her gaze met his and all she could think of, was how kind he’d been to her. He’d taken in a virtual stranger, and now she was bringing danger to his home.
It wasn’t right.

“I don’t know what I was thinking. I should have never come to Summerville.”

“Forget about Beth. She’s an idiot. If we believed everything the
Gazette
published, then the Lake would have a Loch Ness monster, Big Foot would jog down the Boulevard every third Monday, and UFO's would abduct Dickhead. Hold on—I like that last one.”

She smiled in spite of herself, partly because he was working so hard at trying to cheer her up. “You’re a nice man, a good man, Webster Bond.”

He put his hand on his heart. “Is this where you tell me, you only want to be friends?”

“No!” She realized he was kidding. “You. How do you do that? I’m scared to death and you make me laugh.”

“Don’t you remember my title?” He smiled. “Class Clown? Ahh, how quickly we forget. The red nose? The squeaky shoes?”

She grinned and smacked his chest. “Stop. You’re making that up.”

“Yes, yes I am. So, seriously, while you were conveniently passed out, I read your text. Who the hell would torch your home and studio? What or who were you running from?”

Lola took a deep breath.
How many tests did the man need to pass in order to prove, he could be trusted?
She called on all the saints she could remember and began to spill her guts, starting with her swim in the pool. Just as she got to the part where Web pulled her over and she feared he was a kidnapper about to throw her into the trunk of her own armored car, Dr. Cho re-appeared.

“You look better.” He waved a sheet of paper at Lola and read the discharge instructions to her. “And here, my dear, is your starter pack of iron tablets.
You
are anemic, which can be the cause of your fainting. Have you been doing anything strenuous lately? Working out extra hard?”

“Well, I’ve been running a lot.”

“Aha. I
knew
it. You look like a runner. You need to see your primary care physician when you get home, have follow-up blood work. In the meantime, you’re free to go.” 

“What about my bill?”

“Talk to the people at the desk. They handle all that.” He waved good-bye.

Brow furrowed, Web appeared to be deep in thought.

Her breath caught in her throat. What if he thought she really was
loco
? “Do you believe me?”

“Yes, I do. I’m trying to put the pieces together.”

They settled her bill and wandered out to the hospital parking lot. The sun had set hours ago. Soon, Web would have to prepare for work. Rather than go to another restaurant on a busy Friday night, they opted for drive-through.

As they unwrapped the largest burgers fast food could produce without requiring a forklift, Web probed for more information. “What are your theories about this, Lola? Who would want you kidnapped?”

She shrugged and licked mayonnaise off her fingers. “Narco terrorists run much of Mexico. With the exception of
La Familia
cartel, they all kidnap for ransom. If you don’t pay?” She drew her finger tip across her throat. “You’re dead.” She stopped talking. “In my dream, the thug was about to chop off my hands, my livelihood—with his machete.”

“Did the guy in your dream say anything?”

“
Vieja
sent me. That’s it.”

“Let’s assume your cousin is correct. What motive would Flora have for having you kidnapped? Was she on drugs, in debt, trying to ransom a child or grandchild in exchange for you?”

She shook her head. “I’ve known the woman most of my life. She practically raised me. I think she might have had a child or a grandchild? Not sure if it was a girl or a boy. There was a period after I graduated from high school when I went to live with Izzy and I didn’t see her.”

“How did she come to work for you?”

“She showed up at my wedding and asked for work. Said she’d fallen on hard times and I was delighted to see her.”

He put the car in gear and pulled into the traffic. “Not as delighted as she was to see you, apparently.”

She rubbed her hands over her eyes and sighed. “I’ve been so paranoid. I thought I knew the smirking man at the restaurant. He reminded me of—
mierda
! He was one of my bodyguards! What the hell is
he
doing here?”