Breaking Away (18 page)

Relief and amusement had a smile springing to Samantha’s lips. “You about ready to go, girlfriend?”

“I have to get my purse,” Joy said and trotted over to pick up a hot pink shoulder bag.

Samantha suppressed a chuckle. “Love the boa. It really makes that outfit.”

Joy smiled wide, wrinkling her nose. “I’m ready.”

“We’ll take a sweater just in case you need it,” Samantha grabbed a white sweater hanging on the closet doorknob.

With Joy tottering ahead of her, they returned to the living room. Samantha swung her backpack over her shoulder, snapped up the car keys from a bowl on the coffee table, locked the door as they headed out and, using her house key, secured the dead bolt.

“Hold my hand. You need to practice walking down steps in high heels. Mommy’s done it and it’s not easy.”

“’Kay.”

Joy’s hand felt sticky as she grasped it. What else besides lip-gloss had she put on? When her daughter nearly pirouetted off the steps, she was grateful she’d held on to her and saved her from a nasty spill.

“Stay on the stepping stones, Joy. High heels and sandy soil don’t work very well.”

“’Kay, mommy.” With her eyes directed downward, she concentrated on doing a tiptoe-hopping maneuver from one steppingstone to the next.

After strapping Joy into the back seat, she got in, and dropped the backpack onto the passenger seat next to her. She backed the car out of the drive and paused for a moment to study the house. The one-story, three bedroom house had seen better days. The outside stucco had cracked in spots, and the eaves had begun to deteriorate, but she loved every inch of the place. It had been home to her from when she was six until she’d married. After that interminable, four-year absence, she’d returned with her heart in pieces and her body battered.

But she was good now, and so was Joy. And it was going to stay that way.
She’d promised Gran
.

“Go, Mommy,” Joy demanded, fortunately breaking into Samantha’s thoughts before her emotions got the best of her.

Thank God for her daughter.
She forced a smile. “We’re going.” She turned the car east toward South Boulder Highway.

Dry desert, intermittent clumps of grass, sparse trees, and carefully-landscaped desert palms set in business park medians stretched along the road, leaving only a cloudless sky to study. Traffic was light and Sam soon swung left into the shopping center, took another left and pulled into the parking lot in front of the grocery store and parked. “Stay in the car until I come around and get you, Joy.” she cautioned as she unbuckled her seat belt. She slid out of the car and hurried around the car. A silver Lexus drove through the lot, and she paused to watch it before opening Joy’s door.

Will drove one just like it. Surely it wasn’t him she chided herself. But she saw him everywhere she went. The back of a man’s head. The way a man walked or stood. A car similar to his. She knew she was paranoid, but experience had taught her she needed to be on her guard. She needed to get a dog. She needed to get a license to carry a gun as well, but thus far she’d been unable to too convince herself to do it. She had two shotguns at the house, loaded, ready and locked up out of Joy’s reach. That would have to suffice.

She helped Joy out, grabbed her backpack, and locked the Ford Focus. Joy gripped her hand and they walked across the asphalt to the front entrance. “I think you need a ride around the grocery store, Joy. It will save your feet in your new high heels.”

“’Kay.”

Sam lifted her into the shopping cart and smiled when Joy flipped her feather boa over her shoulder like a diva. Gran couldn’t have bought her anything she enjoyed more. An ache settled at the base of her throat as it tightened, but she swallowed it back. She had to stay strong for Joy.

Sam pushed a happy, chattering Joy down the aisles, picking up a loaf of bread, some bananas, orange juice and the ice cream she’d promised Joy. “Can I borrow that boa for my next date?” the checkout woman, Gloria asked.

Joy looked up and shook her head. “Grandma El bought it for me.”

The girl’s smile faltered. “Grandma El was the best. You be sure to take good care of it.”

“’Kay.”

“You knew my grandmother?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, she was always real sweet when she came through. Always had a smile and something friendly to say.”

“Thank you for remembering her with a smile. She,” Sam swallowed, hard, “She would have appreciated that.”

Sam fished inside the backpack for her small purse and handed over the last twenty-dollar bill she had until payday. She’d swallowed her pride and applied for food stamps and any other assistance she could qualify for, but it took time for the paperwork to go through the system and she wouldn’t hear anything back for another several weeks. The girl handed her back four dollars and some change.

Sam thanked her and wheeled the cart out the door. As she crossed the drive in front of the store, she frowned. Something wasn’t quite right with the car. Her heart plunged and her stomach cramped. All four tires were flat, and the car sat on the ground like a turtle hiding in its shell.

Fear jetted through her and she whipped the cart around and headed back into the store. “Aren’t we going home, Mommy?”

“Not just yet, baby.”

She was shaking and her breathing came in a labored pants. She fumbled in her purse for the prepaid cell phone she kept for emergencies, and, finding it, dialed nine-one-one.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” one of the checkers asked.

“Someone’s slashed my tires.” They’d have to be slashed to deflate so quickly. Fear burned her skin and her face prickled as her chest labored to draw enough oxygen into her lungs. Adrenaline flooded her system.

“Oh my God. I‘ll get the manager.” The woman rushed away.

A thin man with bushy hair and glasses approached just as the dispatcher came on the line. Sam gave her the details of where she was and what had happened. “You have to send someone to my house. While I’m here dealing with this, he’ll be going through my house and destroying the place.”

“Who is
he
, ma’am?”

Sam stepped away from the buggy to keep Joy from hearing the conversation. “My ex-husband, William Cross.”

“Did you see him there?”

“I thought I saw his car earlier. I don’t have to see him. I know it was him. I haven’t got any other enemies. He’s just been released for defying the restraining order I have on him. And now my tires have been slashed.”

“I’m dispatching a unit to your location. What is your home address?”

Sam rattled off the address on Warm Springs Road.

“I’m sending a unit there as well.”

Relief brought a tremor to her limbs. “Thank you.”

“Stay on the phone with me until the officers arrive.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

When the automatic door opened and she caught a glimpse of a husky man with dark hair entering the store, she turned and ran toward her daughter. She glanced over her shoulder, her throat contracting, heart beating so harshly against her ribs it hurt.

The man turned his head. It wasn’t Will.

CHAPTER 15

F
lash slowed his Triumph Sprint to fifteen miles an hour. He passed row after row of cookie-cutter houses, all with tile roofs and sparse landscaping. He glanced at the house numbers. After he reached the 2000s, the houses spread out a little more, leaving long stretches of desert dotted with clumps of grass and Joshua trees.

Finally he came to a mailbox with the number he was looking for pasted on the side. A large detached garage came into view. And a police car sat in a semi-circular driveway.

He started to mosey on down the highway, then at the last minute decided to loop around and keep his appointment. If there was a problem with the place he had arranged to rent, he needed to know about it. And it was better to be straight up and get to know the local cops so they wouldn’t be suspicious.

He brought his bike to a stop, pushed it up on the kickstand, and cut the engine.

Two police officers wandered from the back of the house. Both rested their hands on their sidearms as they approached him.

Flash removed his helmet and then his gloves. “Is this the Andrews’ residence?”

One of the police officers answered. “Yeah. Can I see some identification?”

Flash shrugged, dug into the back pocket of his jeans, removed his wallet and tugged free his driver’s license. He’d changed his license to reflect his change of residency to the state of Nevada, with a slight mis-spelling in his name. The current photo showed a man with a well-trimmed beard, darker hair, and glasses. He had no warrants or tickets here or anywhere that he was aware of—yet. Though the military was still looking for him.

The police officer studied the license. “What’s your business here, Mr. Carnes?” He passed off the license to his partner, who took it with him to the squad car.

“I’m supposed to be renting the apartment above the garage and setting up an internet business from here. I have a signed copy of the lease and I’ve already paid a deposit and gotten the permits.” Flash opened the storage compartment on the bike, removed the letter and his paperwork and handed it to the cop.

“What sort of business?” the policeman asked. His partner returned and offered him his license back.

“I custom design security systems and install them.”

The two men looked at each other. “You’ve arrived just in time,” the one who had asked him for identification said. The other handed him back the lease agreement.

Flash raised a brow.

“The lady who lives here is having some trouble and could use a system.”

“What kind of trouble?” Flash asked.

“We can’t really say,” his partner said. “But maybe you could give her a good deal on a security system in place of rent. I’d mention that when you get a chance to talk with her.”

Flash nodded and replaced his license in his billfold. This didn’t really sound like a situation he wanted to get involved in. But he’d already paid a deposit on the room over the garage with a guarantee he’d be able to use the garage if he needed it. “Should I stick around and speak to her while you guys are still here? Or should I come back later?”

“While we’re here would be good. She’ll know you have legitimate business with her and aren’t someone hired to cause a problem.”

Things were sounding less and less inviting.
Shit!

Another police car pulled into the drive and came to a stop behind Flash’s bike. The officer behind the wheel got out, moved to the back door, and opened it. He reached in to offer a hand to one of the passengers and smiled at the child who wiggled free of the back seat. Gaining her feet, she tossed her feather boa over her shoulder and strutted across the gravel drive on her plastic high heels like a mini runway model.

The woman who followed was dressed in mid-thigh length shorts and a blue, short-sleeved pullover top with a scooped neckline. Her legs looked long and smooth. Her strawberry-blonde hair, a shade just a bit darker than the child’s, was pulled back into a ponytail, baring her face. Her wide-spaced eyes focused on him sitting on the Triumph and she frowned. She reached back into the police car and hiked a backpack over her shoulder. The slender bow of her body as she did that caught Flash’s interest and his mouth went dry.

Was he staring? He scanned the cops’ expressions and saw their attention fixed on her, too.

One of the policemen approached her and she shifted her attention to the officer. She followed him to the porch and unlocked the door. He went inside ahead of her.

“Who are you?”

The words spoken in a demanding tone drew his attention. He smiled at the little girl who stood, hands on hips, eyeing him with a frown.

“My name is Tim.” Using his middle name still felt awkward even after months of doing so. “And you are?”

“Joy.” She narrowed her eyes as she studied his bike. “That’s a motorcycle.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Can I ride it?”

Flash grinned. “It’s a little too big for you, sweetheart.”

“Can I ride with you?”

“If your mom says it’s okay.”