Flood Zone Page 10

  “Just a minute. Let mommy think.” Could she get a ride? Borrow a car? Wait for the police and ask them to take her somewhere, anywhere?

  An unusual detail caught her attention through the tension rippling her insides. Gracie’s booster, still buckled in the backseat, had been covered up in a plastic garbage bag. She stared for a long moment before she turned around to face Dallas.

  “Didn’t want it to get wet,” he said simply, hands in his jeans pockets. “Would have sealed the window, too, but I only had one bag.”

  The man had thought about something as menial and foreign to his world as a child’s booster seat. “Dallas,” she said, but a thickening in her throat kept her mute. She reached out very slowly and pressed her palm to the side of his face. He gazed at her in silence. She searched for signs of pity or disgust in his expression. There was nothing there but compassion and worry. “I am pretty sure that was the nicest thing anybody has done for me in a very long time.”

  “You deserve nice things, and so does Gracie.” He stroked the back of her hand, tentatively, as if it were a bird that might fly away at any moment.

  She reached up to press a kiss to his cheek, but his greater height caused it to land just below his jawline. The stubble on his chin tickled her lips. The pulse that revved up in his throat seemed to pass into her body, until her heart matched pace with his. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He cleared his throat as she stepped away. “I know you don’t want to come back to the trailer. I’ll help you find another place in the morning, but we can’t right now. It’s all there is. It’s all I have to offer.”

  He left the question unspoken. Will you come with me?

  “Why,” she whispered, giving words to the question she hadn’t known boiled and bubbled in her broken soul, “is it so hard to do it on my own?”

  A beam of moonlight caught his face, highlighting the strong chin, wide cheekbones and a boy-like vulnerability under the tough guy mask. “Maybe because you weren’t meant to. No one is.”

  Mia sagged under the weight of the words and her daughter’s limp form. Dallas stepped forward, taking Gracie from her. She fetched the booster and they made a quiet procession back to Dallas’s truck.

  She squeezed the booster into the backseat of the double cab, and Dallas put her in and secured the buckle.

  Juno hopped in next to Gracie whose eyes were at half-mast, licking her when he thought Dallas was not looking. After what Juno had done, Mia would never discourage him from being near Gracie again.

  Dallas opened the passenger door for Mia, his body close to hers, and she pressed herself into his arms. “I don’t want this,” she said into his chest, dizzy with the nearness of him and the relief that Gracie was safe. “I don’t want to...need someone.”

  “I know,” he said as he bent his head and kissed her. Electric warmth circled through her and pushed back a tiny corner of fear as her lips touched his. Breathless, she pulled away. “I should have said it sooner, but thank you for finding my daughter.”

  Eyes wide, he offered a tentative smile. “Juno found her.”

  “I’ll pay him in Goldfish,” she said, her own voice tremulous as she chided herself mentally. “But I don’t know how to repay you.”

  “There’s no debt.”

  The softness in his eyes brought her back to the heady emotion of that kiss. She almost lost herself in the feeling again before she snapped herself back to reality. His kiss was just a physical expression of what they’d just been through. Don’t feel for him. Don’t love him. Deep breaths helped her stop the wild firing of her nerves as he shut the door and went around to the driver’s side.

  The first ten miles passed in silence until Dallas told her about Susan.

  Mia gaped. “Is she crazy? Making it all up?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I heard Catherine say she was basically stalking him. She couldn’t get over her husband’s death and she became fixated on the doctor after he treated her. They mentioned Finnigan’s name, too.”

  They mulled over the situation for the next half hour. Dallas edged the truck past a monster puddle that nearly swallowed the road. “I don’t know who is telling the truth, but maybe this Finnigan is the place to start since his name has come up a few times now.”

  “Should we tell the police?”

  “That’s the million dollar question.” He shot her a glance, dark eyes unreadable. “Your call.” They made the final turn into the trailer park. “But you’d better decide now,” he said as Detective Stiving emerged from the police car parked in front of Dallas’s unit.

  * * *

  Dallas tried to hide his dismay that it was Stiving and not Chief Holder who greeted them. He lifted the sleeping Gracie from the back and handed her to Mia. Stiving let Mia get Gracie settled inside, Juno flopped down on the floor next to her. He stood on the front porch with Dallas until Mia joined them, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

  “Folks told me you left the college gym. Said something unpleasant happened. How about filling me in?” Stiving took careful notes about Gracie’s disappearance and the encounter with Archie in the woods. Dallas waited to see if she would reveal what Susan said, but she did not, nor did she mention Peter Finnigan’s name.

  Stiving arched an eyebrow. “So the Archie guy from Miami. He thinks you’ve got money from your husband squirreled away somewhere?”

  Mia nodded wearily.

  “Is he right?”

  “No,” Mia snapped, “as I explained to him. I’m a single mother with next to nothing in my wallet, no house, a ruined car and only the clothes on my back. I don’t even have a change of clothes for Gracie. That’s it. And even if I got Hector’s money, I’d send it back express mail because I don’t want anything to do with my ex-husband, thank you very much.” The last few words came out a near shout.

  Dallas could not have been more proud. After all she’d been through, she would not be steamrolled.

  To Dallas’s surprise, Stiving smiled. “Got it. Archie from Miami is a misguided individual. Targeting you for no reason.”

  Mia let out a squeak. “Does it matter the reason? He sent my child up onto the roof. He could have...hurt her.”

  “And no one else saw the guy?”

  “I did, earlier,” Dallas said.

  “You don’t count,” Stiving said without looking at Dallas. “But adding a menacing stranger isn’t going to throw me off the trail of who killed Cora.”

  “Incredible,” Mia huffed. “What kind of woman would I be to use my daughter to deflect suspicion from myself?”

  “The kind of woman that married a drug dealer and lived in the lap of luxury until hubby went to prison.”

  Mia’s face blanched and she took a step back. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I know more than you think. Fire Marshal says the house burned due to a candle fire, so that we have to rule as accidental, but the toxicology reports are what I’m eagerly awaiting. That’s going to make for some interesting reading.”

  “I would never poison anyone, especially Cora,” Mia said, arms folded tight across her chest.

  “You stabbed a man before. Poison, knife.” He shrugged. “Both can be lethal.”

  Dallas stiffened. “Knock it off. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  Stiving looked close at Mia. “How do you know what she deserves?”

  Mia sucked in a breath, then without another word she slammed back inside the trailer, leaving Dallas and Stiving alone on the porch.

  “That was low. She’s a good mother, the best,” Dallas snarled.

  “Really? You sound so protective. Good friend?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Or more?”

  He burned inside. “None of your business.”

  “Let’s lay it out here, Mr. Black. You
and I don’t get along.”

  “No kidding. Because I made you look bad by doing your job for you? Finding the kid when you didn’t think it was worth your time?”

  The smile vanished. “No, because you’re a hotshot who makes trouble in my town. Whatever you think of me, I’m a good cop. Thorough.”

  “So do your job and investigate. You’ll see she’s telling the truth.”

  “Could be, but I think it’s more likely that your friend Mia Sandoval murdered Cora and when the lab tests come back and prove that the pills were doctored with poison, I’m going to arrest her. As far as this Archie from Miami thing goes, if he really is threatening her, it’s just deserts.”

  “Just?” Dallas spoke through gritted teeth.

  “Sure. She’s experiencing the fallout of being married to a mobster. She probably had full knowledge of Hector’s activities the whole time.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Maybe, but I’m right about the murder and you’d better believe I’m going to look real carefully at you, too, since you’re so tight with Miss Sandoval and everything.” He grinned. “Gang boy like you? Arrest record and the whole nine yards? Real stand-up guy.”

  Dallas bit back his response. It wouldn’t help Mia to shoot off his mouth. It probably hadn’t helped her that her supposed protector was an enemy of the town’s police detective.

  “I’ll be seeing you around soon,” Stiving said as he walked down the steps.

  Dallas felt a desperate need to act, to take some small step that would help shed some light. He took a shot. “Do you know a Peter Finnigan?”

  Stiving stopped. “Finnigan? Why?”

  “Do you know him?”

  Eyebrows drawn together, Stiving chewed his lip before answering. “Guy of that name lives about an hour from here in Mountain Grove. Used to live in California until he bought a real nice cabin here in Colorado.”

  “Know him personally?”

  “Read about him.” He shook his head. “Witness in a case a colleague of mine worked on in California decades ago. Surprised I remembered it.”

  “What kind of case?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Why did it stick in your memory? A case that wasn’t even in your state?”

  His eyes narrowed to slits. “This colleague talked it over with me. He thought something smelled funny about the story. Just like something smells funny about this one. So you’re not going to tell me why you’re interested in Peter Finnigan?”

  Dallas remained silent. He was not going to get anything more and he wondered if he’d blown it by bringing Peter’s name into the mess. Besides, he needed to check on Mia. Now.

  Stiving started up the engine, still smiling, and Dallas tapped on the trailer door before letting himself in. Mia sat at the little table, elbows propped on the surface. He tried to read her expression. Angry? Wounded?

  “Sit down and quit staring at me,” she said.

  Angry. Good. “Stiving has no sense. Ignore him. He did give me a tip on Peter Finnigan in spite of himself. I’ve got a town name to research.”

  She drummed fingers on the table. “He truly believes I am a murderer.”

  “Cops are like that. Don’t trust anyone. Don’t take it to heart.”

  “Easy for you to say. He doesn’t think you killed Cora.” She shot a hasty look at Gracie who slept peacefully. She stared at the little girl, face softening until it was so tender he had to look away.

  “Dallas, you...you don’t think I would ever put Gracie in danger on purpose, do you?” She turned those luminous eyes on him, and suddenly breathing was difficult.

  “No.”

  “But what if I do it unintentionally? Trying to make a life here has only gotten us in trouble.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “I’m not so sure. My number-one priority is to give her a good life, you know?”

  He nodded.

  “But I look back over my life, and I can’t believe some of the things I’ve done.” She looked at her hands. “I stabbed my husband. I actually did that.”

  “You thought he was going to kill you and take Gracie, didn’t you?”

  Her sigh was miserable. “But I never imagined I could do such a thing—that I was capable.”

  It cut at him to see the self-doubt. “You were protecting yourself and your daughter. Don’t let guilt twist it around.”

  She beamed a smile at him that lit up even the farthest corners of the trailer. He could have been sitting in a glorious cathedral and there would be nothing to rival the beauty he experienced at that moment, sitting in a trailer parked on the edge of a flood-threatened town.

  “I appreciate your friendship,” she said, “I really do, even if I haven’t shown it. It’s been a long time since I could trust someone.”

  Trust. The word fell hard on his heart. But I haven’t told you the truth, Mia. Not all of it. He opened his mouth to let it spill. Tomorrow, everything would change because of the phone call he’d made outside that rain-soaked gym. He remembered the cascade of emotions she’d triggered in him with their kiss that seemed to live inside him long after her mouth was no longer pressed tight to his. Would it all be gone in the morning? Perhaps it was for the best. She needed a friend, not anything more. He would be lucky if she still counted him in that circle after tomorrow.

  “What is it?” Mia said, squeezing his fingers. She looked so tired, circles smudging her eyes. He could give her one night of rest, of peace, before her world turned upside down and his did, too.

  “Nothing. Get some sleep. We’ll talk later.”

  She laughed softly. “‘Oh, I’ve got miles to go before I sleep.’”

  He found himself smiling back. “Robert Frost. You listened in poetry class, too.”

  “Yes, I did.” She pressed the laptop to life. “And I’m going to dig up some dirt on a certain P. Finnigan before I turn in.”

  He understood. She needed to do something, to manage one small element in a life that was spiraling out of control. “How about if I help?”

  She slid over on the bench seat, and he settled next to her, his big shoulder pressed against her soft one, admiring her slender wrists as her fingers danced across the keyboard.

  It took them two hours of following cyber bunny trails before they had the pertinent details.

  Mia gathered her long hair to the side, eyes darting in thought. “So this Peter Finnigan was a dishwasher at a greasy spoon in Southern California. He’s out walking one day and sees a man boating. The boater falls overboard and is caught up by a rip current and shouts for help. Finnigan tries to get to him, but is unable and fearing for his own safety he leaves the water and calls the authorities. By the time they show up, the man is swept away, body never recovered.”

  Dallas consulted the screen. “The drowned man is Asa Norton, a thirty-year-old small-business owner. He’s presumed dead after the appropriate length of time. Survived by his wife—” Dallas leaned closer “—Susan Norton. There’s a picture.”

  Mia crowded close, her cheek nearly touching his. It took everything in his possession not to turn his head and find those lips again. Knock it off, Black.

  “Does she look familiar?” Mia breathed quicker. “Could that possibly be the red-haired Susan we know?”

  “Could be, but it’s a bad picture.” He leaned away a little, to quiet the pulse rushing in his veins. He read on. “Susan received the ten million dollar insurance settlement for her husband’s death.” He scrolled down. “Nothing further about it.”

  Mia chewed her lip. “Something Cora knew about Finnigan troubled her. It has to be a clue as to who killed her, doesn’t it?”

  Dallas saw the kindling of hope in her eyes as if a light had been turned on inside, somewhere down deep. Help me keep that
hope alive, Lord. “We’ll find out.” But would there still be a we tomorrow?

  They were silent for a moment. Pine needles scuttled quietly along the trailer roof.

  “Do you think Peter Finnigan has answers?” she said finally.

  “Possibly, but it could also be dangerous to go track him down.”

  “Dangerous, how?”

  “Take your pick. Floodwaters, Archie on the loose and Cora’s murderer.”

  “Could Archie have done it? Poisoned Cora’s pills?”

  Dallas thought it over. “I don’t see why he’d go to trouble. Let’s say he suspected you’d left this treasure from Hector with her. He might have searched her house, but he could have done that while she was out. No need to bring attention to himself or the property by causing her death. He’s here on Garza’s behalf to retrieve Hector’s stash, that’s his priority.”

  Mia’s breath caught. “But what if he was there searching for all this money he believes I have, and she stumbled across him?”

  He saw where she was going. “Cora did not die because of you. Period.”

  “I wish I could be sure.”

  “I’ll be sure for both of us.” He got up from the table, put a hand on her shoulder, trapping some of her silken hair under his palm. Without stopping to think it out, he pressed a kiss to her temple.

  She curled a hand up around his neck and held him there. He was certain at the moment, as the nerves tingled through his body, how blessed he was to know Mia Verde Sandoval. But there was a secret between them, a secret that would hurt her. Though it took every bit of will power he possessed, he pulled away. “You’ve got to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a bear.” And I want to leave now, while you’re still looking at me with that half smile on your lips and eyes that make my heart pound.

  “Okay,” she said, a puzzled smile on her face. “Tomorrow has to be better than today.”

  He wished with everything inside him that it could be, but his brain knew differently.