New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2) (18 page)

Julio rose and went to check the lines, but no fish had
drifted by.
 
He stood by the railing,
turning to face Cruze.
 
“After I left and
before Cristo gunned down my father, Eduardo’s abduction took place, right?”

Julio stared at him, wanting Cruze to see the connection.

“Shit, you don’t suppose . . .” Cruze said.

“I am pretty
confident
my father orchestrated the whole awful scene of cocaine,
heroin
and cruelty with the intention of ending
Eduardo’s life by inflicting as much misery as possible.
 
I remember Eduardo as an adorable and
intelligent child and thought he would become a doctor or attorney or even a computer
scientist.”
 
Julio paused, lost in a
memory.

“My scum bag of a father wanted revenge for losing me,”
Julio said, continuing her revelations.
 
“I think one of the guys involved came down from his high long enough to
get scared about Eduardo.
 
He made an
anonymous phone call to the cops after his gang cleared out of that house where
they left Eduardo stuffed in a closet.”

“Your father organized the whole travesty to torture and
kill Eduardo?
 
Did he have any idea
Eduardo might be his?”
 
Cruze asked.

“My father was a bully and a
pervert,
but the man did not lack intelligence.
 
Of course
he recognized Eduardo as his son.”

Cruze sat with his head in his hands, his mind reeling from
this series of revelations.
 
Those events
from that miserable year he spent in
juvie
were connected.
 
“Do you think your
father squealed on
Cristo and me
to the
cops that day I got busted?” he asked.

Julio sat thinking for a moment.
 
“Possible, though it was unlike him to
involve the police.”

“Why did your own mother stay with him?” Cruze asked.

“She gloried in the money.
 
She took pride in our big, flashy home.
 
She donated tens of thousands of dollars each year to the Catholic
Church.
 
They thought of my mother as a
saint.
 
Ironically many nights, my father
banged her with their bedroom door open.
 
I buried my head under the covers and turned on the radio to block out
the sounds of their passion.
 
Sick as him
in her way, my mother knew I heard them.
 
She screeched like a whore with every orgasm.
 
The next morning the hypocrite donned her
mantilla and went to mass as demure as a virgin.”

“My lovely Annetta, why did you never tell us?” he asked,
reverting to her childhood name and taking her hand again.

“Even as a little girl what he did, what they did, shamed
me.
 
The best times were with you and
Cristo and at school.
 
I made up reasons
to avoid going home.
 
As long as I had
the two of you, I could survive.
 
Even as
a
child
I developed evasive skills to
dodge my father as often as I could.
 
The
first freedom I experienced came only after his death.”

“You always acted
happy
.”

“Acted, yes.”

Cruze sat staring out to sea while Julio regarded him with
sympathy.
 
They confirmed his brothers
were dead.
 
Now they hid out from an
unknown person who tailed them.
 
The FBI
knew about the stolen bones.
 
Julio
received the news of the feds keeping his parents’ gravesites under
surveillance.
 
No doubt the FBI was
conducting their own DNA investigation.
 
They
would find
the differences
and exhume his parents’ remains to confirm they had nailed the Fuentes
brothers.
 

Cruze now understood the full picture from their
childhood.
 
They still faced the same
major question – would he avenge his brother’s deaths?

“We will stay here tonight,” Julio said.
 
“Lay out our tactics in the morning.
 
Whatever you decide about Cristo and Eduardo,
I will abide by.
 
I ask one thing.”

“Which is?”

“I stay a part of your life.
 
Not full time but we must be in communication.
 
You are my family,” Julio said.

“And you are mine.”

“I used to be closer to Cristo.
 
I will always love him as a close relative
and as a friend, the same way you will always consider him and Eduardo as your
true
brothers.”

Cruze nodded and leaned his head the back of the lounge
chair.
 
Tears trickled down his
face.
 
Julio reached out and took his
hand.
 
They wept for Cristo and for Eduardo.
 
They lamented Julio’s ruined childhood and
the attack on his mother.
 
Together they
agonized in their mutual pain.

He charged Julio with delving into information on the big
agent and his sidekicks who had led the sting on their Mexican repackaging
plant and who had hit a couple of their yacht setups.
 
After the big agent retired, he might have
operated under the guise of the enterprise in the FBI’s records.
 
He was the one fed who had worried
them
because they had heard he solved each of
his assigned cases with the relentlessness of a bloodhound.
 
Every criminal he went after had wound up
dead or in prison.
 
Each one until El
Zorro Astuto as the three Fuentes brothers collectively called themselves.
 
Would a man that dedicated walk away from the
case when he retired?

“Enough Cruze.
 
Today
we grieve.
 
In the coming days we will
strategize,” Julio said, wiping away the moisture seeping from the corners of
his eyes.
 

On Friday
morning
Mathew
appeared in the kitchen at dawn, even though his sleep had been fitful and he
woke
feeling
grouchy
.
 
He fought with the
coffee maker and started cursing at the finicky lid on the pot because it only
poured when twisted into the right position.
 

Steve worked on his laptop in one of the easy chairs at the
side of the kitchen.
 
Mathew glowered at
him as he sat down on a nearby chair.
 
This morning his
usual
even temper
turned prickly.

“Good date last night?” Steve asked.

“Odd you should ask,” Mathew replied.
 
“What made you interfere with Callie and me
by sending her off on retreat for a month?
 
You – Mister Concrete, Agnostic, Just Do It?
 
Why are you interfering?
 
Did Ivy put you up to this?”

“Callie came to talk to me on Friday.
 
Leave Ivy out of this.
 
If I gave
Callie
bad
guidance, it all came from me.
 
Ivy did not have the opportunity to give her opinion.”

“You told Callie to go away to find herself?” Mathew asked.

“She is troubled by her years with that prick John Henry,
more than I think any of us appreciate.”

“Now I won’t go out with her for four weeks or more.
 
In
January
she starts classes for her Masters in viniculture.
 
Between her studies and working at Rick’s, I
won’t spend any time with her at all.”

“I wanted to short-cut her recovery,” Steve said.
 
“She said her psych told her coming to grips
with her bad marriage would take years.”

Mathew still glared at him.
 
“Keep what you think are
your
enlightened perceptions to yourself.
 
This is between
Callie and me
.”

“When someone comes to me who needs help, I can’t turn him
or her away, can I?
 
Isn’t my life
experience meant to be shared?
 
Shouldn’t
I listen and provide counsel?”

“After the
mess
you
made of your life?
 
You think you can
give anyone guidance?”
 
Mathew asked,
startling himself with
how
mean his
questions sounded.
 

“You helped me start a life-affirming journey,” Steve
said
, remaining calm despite the stinging
comment.
 
“My personal life floundered
until I found a better path.
 
I wanted to
support Callie.
 
I might still be too
narrow as a man to give advice to
anyone,
but I gave her an idea to consider.”

Mathew sprang up, went to the coffee machine, refilled his
mug and stomped out of the kitchen.
 
Steve made him angrier by the minute.
 
He needed to take a walk.
 
The
fresh air might turn his foul mood into one more positive.
 
If falling in love made him this irritable,
he should forget about it.
 

Going through the
garage,
he grabbed a windbreaker off a hook and tugged it on.
 
The
cool
morning air, down in the high forties, hit his skin. He inhaled deep into his
lungs about six times, bent down,
retied
his trail shoes, stretched and headed over to the old house.
 
From there he went up the hill, taking such
long strides that he was huffing along up to the summit.
 
He stopped to gaze back towards the coastal
mountain range, down to the vines and over to the big house in the light
morning mist.

He gulped in the clean morning air and glanced at the
empty
farmhouse on his property, wondering if
he should move in, away from Steve and Ivy or at least remodel the building and
set up
an office for himself.
 
He decided to call their contractor later in
the day.
 
The work could be a winter
project for Fred and his father too.
 
That was another point of irritation.
 
Steve had proceeded to add Federico to the payroll and told him after
the fact.
 
While Mathew was supposed to
head up this business, Steve was incapable of staying on the sidelines.

He strode across the ridge, away from Spook Hills and on to
Rick’s land, pushing himself faster in hopes of ridding himself of his
angst.
 
Up ahead Lenny was approaching as
he
did his morning round.
 
While Mathew did not want to talk with
anyone, he reached Lenny’s line of
sight,
and he could not duck away from him.
 
Lenny lifted a hand in greeting and kept tramping his way, halting once
to stare down at the Lindquist house.

“Anything
happen
?”
Lenny
asked
as he neared Mathew.

“Taking some exercise.
 
How is Federico doing?” Mathew asked.

“Solid man and a fast learner.
 
He and I are going to start shooting practice
next week.
 
Federico served his mandatory
year with the Mexican military before they moved up here, which gives minimal
weapons training.
 

“When I started worrying about how to handle patrolling
round the clock, Steve solved the problem by bringing in Federico.
 
You two sure carried your partnership over
from the Bureau.
 
For those of us who
worked with you in the past, your role reversal is
impressive
and yet you are always ready to step in for each other
when needed.”

Mathew gave a quick nod and hiked on.
 
At the turning of the
crest,
he swiveled his head back to peer over his shoulder.
 
Lenny paused up behind his house, surveyed
the area, turned and rambled to the crown of the knoll by the tree house before
disappearing down the other side towards the new acreage.
 
Grudgingly he admitted the truth in Lenny’s
remarks about Steve.
 
Overall he had been
accommodating on how things went at the vineyard.
 
However
the Callie circumstance still sat big in his mind with her spending a month at
a healing center, away from Susannah and away from him.
 
What if she talked herself out of her
attraction
for
him?

Going around the curve in the ridge, downhill from
him
he saw Callie sitting on the ground and
staring at the horizon.
 
Given his
sour
mood,
he considered going on his way, but
he
wanted to take every opportunity to be with her.
 
He tramped down the track and called out her
name.
 
She turned around,
stared
without smiling and gave a little wave
of greeting.

“
Hi
Callie.
 
Enjoying this morning?”

“Thinking,” she said without smiling at him.

He thought about not disturbing her ruminations when she
patted the ground.
 

“Sit with me?” Callie asked.

He plunked himself down next to her, folding his arms around
his knees.
 
They sat for a few
moments, then
both started to talk at once.

“You go first,” he said.

“Sassy wants you all to come over tonight.
 
Would you ask Ivy to bring some of her yummy
jalapeno cornbread?
 
Sassy is inviting
Lenny too.”

“Assume we will be over,
loaves
and all.”
 
He reached to take her
hand.
 
“I will miss you when you go
away.”

She turned to face him, her dark chestnut-brown eyes
searching his face.
 
She leaned forward,
placed one hand on either side of his face and kissed him full on the
mouth.
 
The intensity of her soft
lingering lips jolted through him.

“I wanted to kiss you for so long,” he said when she pulled
away.

“Last night I kept expecting you
to kiss me,” Callie said,
“but when I mentioned trying spiritual
therapy, you went all serious on me.
 
This morning I decided we should share our first kiss whether you are
solemn or smiley,” Callie replied.

“Was
solemn
.
 
Outright dreary. I’m smiley now.” He slid an
arm around her slender
back,
and she
pressed against him.
 
The sun’s slanted
morning rays
slipped
through the clouds,
bringing the potential for another beautiful autumn day.

Down below
them
Susannah sprinted out of the house, her long dark hair flying out behind her
like a silken scarf.
 
She stopped in the
yard, flicked her eyes around the surrounding hillsides, noticed them, waved,
popped up like a skater doing a twizzle and pelted up the slope to them.
 

While Mathew expected Callie to pull away, she kept herself
tucked into his side.
 
Susannah
ran
up and squatted down next to her mother,
then twisted forward and gave him a thumbs-up sign with a secret happy
smile.
 

“Time for breakfast.
 
Come down
too,
Mathew,” Susannah
said, peeking over at him.
 
“Uncle Rick
is making what he calls his famous buttermilk pancakes with peach syrup.
 
He sliced peaches into the syrup when he made
a batch last summer.”

“Tempting, but I need to hurry back home.
 
I must mend a fence.”

“You have fences?” Susannah asked.

“Make
believe
one,”
Mathew said.
 
“I snapped at Steve this
morning,
and I better go smooth things
over.
 
I dithered around in my own
pessimism.”

“At least you can admit when you’re wrong,” Callie said.

“Unlike me to get myself into this situation.
 
This morning I felt crabby.
 
The sooner I remedy the
situation,
the better,” Mathew said, pushing himself
back to his feet.

“Come over around six?” Callie said as he helped her up,
gazing up at him and smiling.

He went back the way he came, only now the whole world made
a swing for the better.
 
Walking into the
kitchen,
he wished Ivy a good morning and
told her and Steve about the dinner invitation.
 

“Sassy requested a loaf of your jalapeno cornbread.”

“Sure.
 
I’ll double
the recipe and freeze one.”

“How about teaching us how to make it and we’ll do a triple
batch?” he asked, pointing at himself and Steve.

“Count me out.
 
Work
to do,” Steve said as he rose, snatched up his computer and hurried out of the
room.

“So much for Steve learning how to cook,” Ivy said.

“This is my fault.
 
Let me talk with
him
.”

Mathew followed Steve downstairs and said, “Hey Steve, sorry
about this morning and the way I got all grouchy.
 
I’m in love with
Callie,
and I can’t seem to make any real headway.”

The big man said nothing as he sat down at his desk and
opened his laptop.
 

“
You made
a sound
decision in hiring Federico,” Mathew continued.
 
“You gave terrific advice to Callie.
 
Let’s not damage our friendship because I wallowed in my own gloom.”

“In both
instances
I
proceeded with you first in mind,” Steve said.
 
While he spoke without raising his voice, his tone had an edge to
it.
 
“I wanted to help you out.”

“You did,” Mathew said.
 
“What can I do to make this right?”

“Nothing.” Steve’s bearing continued stubborn and cold as he
started typing.
 

Mathew stood in the doorway and waited for about a minute before
he said, “You remember a couple of years ago in Bern when you didn’t hear back
from Ivy?”

Steve raised his gaze to stare out the French doors to the
lower patio.
 
His face softened at the
memory,
and he nodded.

“Remember how cranky you were?” Mathew asked.

Steve turned towards him and said, “Not cranky . . . I was
crotchety.”

“Or maybe
testy
.”

“That too,” Steve said with a wry smile.
 
“What time is the cooking lesson?”

“My guess is after we eat.”

“See you in a bit,” Steve replied.

Steve’s softening expression told Mathew he forgave
him.
 
Mathew turned and galumphed back
upstairs to help Ivy with breakfast.