Songs for Perri

SONGS FOR PERRI
by NANCY RADKE
Praises for SONGS FOR PERRI
“Perri flies into a romantic world of spies and shadows, mystery and subterfuge.”
JNF
“Charming and wonderful with a dramatic twist at the end.”
AddyM
“This rogue is very much a gentleman. Reminded me of some of the more courtly romances we used to read.”
KS
“No one is who they seem. Take care. The mystery lies in who everyone actually is.”
ManFan
“A dangerous spin around Mazatlan, right into the arms of a sweetheart.”
Quentin T.
 
Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

Tragedy gave no warning.

Slamming the door on her mother’s new Range Rover, twenty-six year old Perri Linn started to pull her much-traveled suitcase, then paused to watch the swiftly approaching car.

Her step-father's home was perched on the edge of the mesa near Phoenix, and was the last house on the road. If the car passed the next driveway...which it did...it must be coming here, to his place.

Squinting to see better through the heat waves, Perri recognized Walt's silver gray Mercedes. She knew they weren't expecting her yet, so why would he and her mom be coming home in the middle of the day? Could it be an emergency—they were traveling awfully fast?

They must slow down to turn into the driveway!

As if in defiance, the car roared on past and smashed into the large rocks set as a barricade on the mesa's edge. Red dust swirled upward towards the hot Arizona sun, cloaking the twisted metal.

With a noiseless scream, Perri raced down the gravel drive. A woman lay half out of the car on the driver's side, her light golden hair, so like Perri's own, revealing her identity.

The wreck burst into flames, but Perri ignored the furnace-like heat and half-carried, half-dragged her mother out of danger; then used her hands to snuff out the fire on Crystal's dress.

Blood. Everywhere. Flowing from Crystal's face and arms and body—mainly her head. Perri yanked off her own blouse to press against the deepest wound. "No...no...no," she whimpered, trying vainly to stop the torrent. Wasn't anyone around to help? She didn’t have her cell phone, she had dropped her purse as she ran.

"Papa? Was he with you?" she shouted.

"No. He's...he's still working..."

Perri sighed in relief. Her step-father was deaf, but that wouldn't have hindered his escape if he wasn’t injured.

"My pendant." Her mother yanked at the large ivory pendant around her neck as if it were choking her. A favorite piece of jewelry, it had been given to her by a friend working in Africa.

"Leave it, Mom." Frantic, Perri looked toward the nearby homes. Hadn't anyone heard the crash?

"Take it," Crystal insisted, in a voice so weak Perri had to concentrate to hear. "Take it to..." She faltered, recovered, tried to speak again; all the time struggling with the pendant's leather thong.

Her actions pushed Perri's hand away; started the flow of blood again. "Mom, please. Lie still."

But her mother fought the thong until Perri unscrewed the ivory clasp. With the pendant's removal, Crystal relaxed and let Perri reapply the compress.

"You go—” Her words were slurred.

"I can't. You'll bleed—”

"No. You go. You go... must have it..." Crystal's eyes glazed and she seemed to lose her thoughts.

"Mom!" Perri shouted, desperate to keep her mother conscious. "Mom, what happened?"

"Scorpion."

Perri kept the shirt pressed against her mother's head as she glanced over at the burning wreck.
A scorpion in the car?
No wonder her mom had crashed. She had an excessive fear of all snakes and bugs and spiders.

"It's cooked now," Perri assured her, looking back down. Her mother's next words were almost too faint to hear.

"No. No. Pendant. Take it. Inside..." Giving a small sigh, Crystal dropped into unconsciousness.

"Mom!"

The crunch of gravel next to her caused Perri to look up, seeing her parent's nearest neighbor, a nurse, running to them. Crouching down, the woman took Crystal's wrist, feeling for the pulse.

"She's still with us, Perri. Keep that pressure on." The woman had brought a first-aid kit with her, plus an armful of clean towels. She bandaged as she talked. "My son called 9-1-1, then Walt, while I grabbed these things."

"Thanks."

An ambulance pulled up a few minutes later, followed by a fire truck and patrol car. "Anyone else in there?" a fireman shouted, undoing a hose as two medics ran up to Crystal.

Perri glanced at the flames. "No." Helplessly she stood aside, silently praying for her mother's life. The neighbor placed a towel around Perri's shoulders and she huddled into it, her mind struggling with reality. This couldn't be happening.

After five minutes one of the medics stood up, shoulders sagging. "She's gone. Anyone here know her?"

"It's her mother," the neighbor lady answered, putting her arms around Perri. "Crystal Putman."

Then Walt arrived, his face pale and strained. In silence they clung together, the image of her mother blocking out everything until a voice broke in, insistent in its authority. "Perri. Did you see it happen?"

She stared at the short gray-haired man. Walt's new boss, Luke Rogers. He must have brought him. "Yes. She didn't even try to stop." She glanced over at the blackened wreckage. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have borrowed her car for my trip."

“My car,” Walt moaned. “I should have been driving. Not her.”

"It wasn't anyone's fault," Luke Rogers insisted, touching her step-father's hand so he would lip-read what he was saying. "I'll have Jordan check the car, Walt. Just in case."

"Do that."

"Who's he?" Perri asked, signing the words as she spoke. She always signed when speaking to him.

"An insurance investigator. He finds things the police miss. Crystal should have slowed down for her own driveway."

"A scorpion was in the car."

"A scorpion? You're sure?"

"Yes. She told me. She’s terrified of them."

Luke frowned. "You're positive she was talking about an insect."

"Well...sure." Perri looked at him, puzzled. What other kind was there?

"We won't bother Jordan then. I'll take care of your latest project, Walt. Don't worry about things at the office." Bending down, Luke Rogers picked up the pendant by its leather thong. "You won't want to lose this," he added, dropping the smooth ivory into Perri's hand.

She clutched the pendant with both hands. "Mom kept saying she wanted me to have it. She wouldn't let me take care of her until I took it."

"Injured people tend to focus on one thing," Luke said. "Usually it's an object; sometimes a person."

His words made Perri remember her step-brother, in the middle of a three-week business trip. "Owen. He needs to know."

"Right," Walt agreed, then looked straight at his boss. "Ask the company to bring Owen home. He needs to be here."

"Regardless?"

"Yes."

"Alvaro, wasn't it?" Luke Rogers mouthed the words, but Perri could read lips very well, having practiced with her step-father.

"Yes. Just don't tell Owen why he needs to come home. I wouldn't want him to get careless."

* * *

"Is he dead?"

"No. His wife took the car."

"I thought you never missed."

"I don’t, normally. But an accident, like you requested—well, it's not so certain. I’ll set up another."

"Cancel that. I've a better plan; one that will rid me of both him and his son."

"He has a daughter."

"Splendid. She can be the bait."

CHAPTER ONE

Perri walked into the entrance hall and handed Walt the mail, frowning even as she welcomed him home. "You know, Papa, Owen should have been back by now.”

She watched as he sorted through it, almost dropping a brightly colored postcard.

"Dora." The postcard had only the one word printed on it, but Walt stared at it as if it were a summons of death. Perri was alarmed at the change in his expression and asked, "What's wrong?"