Hot and Bothered (17 page)

Judith stared at the weapon in his hand, so shocked she couldn’t speak. Her family was forceful and determined, but this was way beyond even them. She couldn’t believe it, just couldn’t believe it.

He waved the gun, indicating the open doorway. “Come on.”

Judith’s voice started working again. She said the only thing that came into her mind. “No.”

The man’s eyes bulged. His face turned to stone, and he cursed horribly. “Don’t make me—”

A body literally flew into him, cutting off his threat. The gun went flying out of the man’s hands, by some miracle not discharging as Paul grappled him to the cement floor.

It occurred to Judith that the man might eventually retrieve the gun if it was left lying around. She went over and picked it up by its butt, holding it gingerly between thumb and forefinger at arm’s length. She wondered what to do with it, terrified to touch it longer than she
absolutely had to. She made an executive decision and dropped it into her cement mixing pan. She pushed the gun into the gray glop until it sank out of sight.

She spun around at the sudden shouting behind her. The man kicked Paul right in the stomach, sending him staggering backward. The intruder, taking advantage of Paul’s indisposition, ran out the door.

“Paul!”

“I’m … okay,” he gasped. His face was red, and he had a long scrape down his bare arm from the cement flooring. He headed for the outside, clearly going after the man yet again.

“Paul!” Judith shouted, running toward him to stop him, fearful he would be hurt worse in a second confrontation.

Before either of them got out of the house, a car roared to life. The black Mercedes was already heading up the center roadway when they spotted it. Chickens scattered, squawking, the dogs sending up a howl of noise. The car shot over the road, bottoming out on every bump. Judith knew they’d never catch it. She didn’t want to.

“If there’s any justice, the son of a bitch will rip out his oil pan,” Paul said. “We’ll find him a few miles up the road with a burned-up engine.”

Judith started shaking. She sat on the ground, her legs no longer able to hold her upright. Her teeth chattered. She tried clenching her jaws together
to stop them, but to no avail. Despite the morning heat, everything inside her was cold, as if she had been to the Arctic Circle wearing nothing more than a bikini.

People started gathering around them, drawn from their homes by the odd noises. Most were women and children, the men having gone to work or to their fields.

Paul knelt down next to her. Recognizing her shock, he rubbed her arms, trying to put some warmth back into her body. “Did you know that man?”

She tried to speak, swallowed, then tried again. This time the answer came out. “No.”

“He’s the same guy who was looking for you before.”

“He found me this time.” Her voice trembled. Panic tried to force its way to the surface again, but Judith pushed it back down. She couldn’t afford to panic. Not after what just happened. “He tried to kidnap me. He said there were people back in San Diego who wanted to see me.”

“I think there’s more to your shares than a board meeting. We should call the
Federales
.”

“No!” She shook her head vehemently at the prospect of creating more trouble.

“What happened?” Pedro asked, huffing and puffing as he came down the last bit of road. “Who was that man? He asked where
Señorita
Judith—”

“And you told him!” Paul exclaimed, rising.

Pedro backed away. “
Sí
. Nobody told me not to.”

Judith put her hand on Paul’s leg when he would have gone after Pedro. “It’s all right. Pedro didn’t know.”

“What didn’t I know?” the man asked in bewilderment.

“That she was having personal trouble and didn’t want to be found,” Paul snapped. “What the hell do you think she was living here for? Her health?”

“People come for their health,” Pedro said defensively.

“Not here! They go to the resorts, not the
ejidos
!”

“She should have told me!” Pedro waved his hands. “You should have told me,
Señorita
.”

“And what would you have charged her if she had?”

Paul’s question started a tittering of giggles among the spectators and a barrage of outraged Spanish from Pedro, who didn’t take the notion kindly.

Judith sighed, knowing she had caused all this trouble herself. She got to her feet, Paul immediately helping her. His hand on her arm was comforting, but she had to get her own backbone from within. “Please, all of you. This is my fault, no one else’s. I never should have come here in the first place. I apologize to you for any trouble
I’ve caused.…” Several people started speaking to others, whose expressions changed from puzzled to enlightened. She was being translated. Judith smiled gratefully as she went on. “You’ve all been very kind to me, and I thank you. I promise you will have no more trouble here.”

Paul waved everyone away, saying something in Spanish that must have been a dismissal, for people began to leave. Pedro harrumphed angrily but went with the others.

Judith slumped, having had more than enough for one day. Everything had changed. Everything.

“Where’s the gun?” Paul asked.

“In the cement.”

He chuckled. “That ought to make it unusable.”

“I didn’t want to throw it into the bushes, where the kids could find it.” She shuddered. “I need to sit down again.”

“You can at my house. You’re coming back with me.”

She stared at him. “Are you planning to kidnap me if I don’t?”

“Will you please come back to my house?” he said, asking, not demanding. “I’ll make you coffee and we can talk.”

“Thank you,” she said.

But she couldn’t stay, she thought. She couldn’t stay.

Paul poured Judith coffee. She gripped the sides of the mug as if her fingers were ice cold and needed warming. She’d had a bad fright.

And so had he. When he had seen the black Mercedes parked in front of Domingo’s house, he’d known it meant trouble. But he’d had no idea how bad the trouble was until he had crept into the half-built house. Seeing that shark-eyed guy holding a gun on Judith had nearly stopped his heart.

“The incident should be reported,” he said. Although he wasn’t crazy about the Mexican police, he still believed strongly in procedure. “They could stop the guy maybe, before he gets to the border.”

She sipped the coffee. He’d made it extra strong, to buck her up. It seemed it did, for she said, “You’re right. I know you’re right. Would you call them? My Spanish …”

“Sure.”

He called. Even though she didn’t understand, she listened intently to his side of the conversation. Paul smothered a smile of amusement. He wasn’t amused when he hung up the telephone. “It’s reported, that’s all I can say. Damned idiots.”

“I take it they weren’t interested.”

“They said they would have someone come out when they could. No manpower evidently.
Governments won’t spend enough for proper policing power, and people have to suffer.”

“People help,” Judith commented. “They always want their taxes cut.”

“Whatever. That guy will be long over the border by the time the cops get on it.” He took her hand, running his thumb over the soft skin of her fingers. “Don’t worry. I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.”

She looked ready to cry, but somehow held back tears. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her … but the awkwardness between them held him back. He decided he could help her best by being practical.

“Do you have any idea who would want to go to such lengths to get at you?”

“No. Not like that. My God, who would?”

“A determined person. A person who has some advantage if you’re not in the picture. A crazy person.”

“That’s absurd!” she exclaimed, getting some of her courage back. “He said someone back home wanted to talk with me. You make it sound like I’m number one on a hit list.”

“That wasn’t a toy gun he had pointed at you,” Paul said.

She slumped in the chair. “No, no, it wasn’t. This doesn’t make any sense.”

He stroked her hand. “Maybe somehow you know something. You ran after you inherited those shares. That’s not a normal reaction—”

“With my family, it is.”

“Maybe this is why,” he countered. “You said they were stubborn and demanding. Who could have gone over the edge? Was there someone who should have inherited the shares instead of you?”

“I don’t know.” She closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers squeezing tightly over his. “I know I had to be an unlikely choice for my aunt. She was wrapped up in Collier Chocolates as much as any of them, and I’m the furthest one from that. At least, her bequest always mystified me.”

“Did she have children? A brother or sister? Someone closer who would have been the likely one in line to inherit?”

“No children. She never married. Her only close relative is a brother … but he’s in a nursing home. It can’t have been Edgar, believe me. The poor thing’s nearly ninety-five and in the last stages of Alzheimer’s.”

“Okay. Not him. But somebody wants to keep you from that meeting.”

“But they don’t know how I’ll vote my shares.
I
don’t even know how I will.”

“Maybe that’s what scares him. Or her.”

“That man said ‘people’ wanted to talk to me. Maybe they want me to sign over my voting privilege to them.”

“Either way, you’re in trouble.”

She agreed. “Much as I hate to believe it, and
much as it all makes no sense, there has to be somebody. I don’t know of anyone in the family who would do this. They’re tough players, but not tough like this.”

Paul came around the counter. People didn’t run unless they had good reason, and he had always felt Judith had good reason, no matter what she said to the contrary. Now he had been proved right on that score. But he’d also dismissed her story, logic telling him she was overreacting to her family. He had nearly lost her because he’d ignored his instincts.

At least she was steadier now, emotionally and physically, since the incident. She was thinking, and he knew she held the key somewhere. The answer would come, but in the meantime he had to keep her safe.

He drew her against him, and to his pleasure she came willingly into his arms. “I need to hold you so badly,” he said.

“I know.” She put her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest.

He could feel her heart beating against his skin. Her hair was like silk. He stroked it, loving the way the strands curled around his fingers. “Your family background intimidates the hell out of me.”

She lifted her head. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He smiled.

“I have to tell you I feel more at home here than in my real home.”

“A kidnapper will do that every time.”

He couldn’t resist the spark of humor in her gaze. He kissed her softly, gently, knowing she was vulnerable and knowing he was even more so. But the warmth of her lips was too much to resist.

She shuddered and pulled away. “God, Paul. What if it’s my parents?”

He hid his disappointment behind concern. “Are they capable of such a thing?”

“No … yes … I don’t know!” She broke away from him to pace. “They might have me kidnapped to bring me back. But not at gunpoint!”

“I don’t think much of your parents,” he said.

She whirled around, facing him. “I may be being unfair to them with my doubts. I hope I am … I think I am.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” He would never do something like that to his own daughter, he mused, then realized what an odd thought it was for him to have, a man who had taken himself out of the parenting arena altogether. Still, he never would. “I’ll get your … do you want me to get your things from the trailer?”

He had remembered her earlier reaction to his demand and wisely framed his wishes in a question form.

She smiled slightly, then sobered. “I don’t know. Maybe I ought to go back to San Diego.
At the best, I’m found anyway. At the worst, at least no more men with guns will show up here.”

Something inside him froze and boiled over at the same time. He knew he had to stop her. “I don’t think that would be wise. Here there are a lot of people, which probably saved the situation from being worse. And then there’s me. I’ve got a little experience in these matters. More than ten years worth.” When she didn’t answer, he rushed on. “Besides, I doubt he’ll be back here again. He knows he’s hampered by too many things.”

“I don’t know.”

But she was wavering, and he knew it. He pressed on. “You tell me anywhere in the world where you’ll be safer than with me.”

She didn’t answer.

“Stay, please. I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I understand.” He did. He wasn’t sure either that there was any future between them, but he couldn’t walk away or let her walk away. “Stay until the board meeting.”

She stared out the patio window for the longest time. “All right.”

Paul relaxed. He had been holding his breath, his future hinging on her acquiescence. “I’ll go get your things.”

People came up to the house all afternoon, bringing food for Judith. The children brought
a present of wildflowers. That they had found any still growing in the arid heat was a miracle. Paul was grateful to all of them for showing their concern. The gestures weren’t unusual. In this close-knit community, people always helped one another out.