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Justin tried to look impressed, wanting no doubt to believe he could be proud of something his dad had done. Mary understood; she had felt the same way about her own father once.
As if he could read her mind, Justin asked, “Did Grandpa work here, too?”
The very thought made Mary want to chuckle. Of the great line of Santellises, Yano Santellis had been the most successful of all. Well, if you thought that having a finger in just about every till in Gila City made you a success, that is. Her dad was happy to skim most of the profit from the dirty dealings the used car lot fronted, but seldom got his own hands dirty.
In Mary’s eyes, her father was neither successful nor great. And now the great Yano was a mere shadow of his former self, Alzheimer’s had claimed his mind. Mary finally shook her head in response to Justin. “Grandpa owned it.”
Except that wasn’t true. Mary owned it. And had for some time, according to the will her grandfather left behind. Conveniently, Eddie hadn’t passed that information along. She’d only discovered it when the detective her brother hired had tracked her down a few weeks ago. “Your grandfather was here a lot, but he hired others to actually work it.”
“Dad worked for him?”
“Yes.”
“Will I get to help you fix this place up?” Justin frowned.
“Probably.”
Justin made a face that Mary pretended not to notice. No matter what the lot looked like now, it would be good for him to be part of something that belonged to the two of them, because nothing had belonged to them for a long time. She’d made the decision to go into hiding when Eddie was arrested, knowing she could be charged as an accomplice in whatever crimes he had committed and that Justin might be taken from her if social workers believed that her family connections had put him in danger.
After all, she was Eddie Graham’s wife, even if they had been separated for years. If she had been arrested, too, what would have become of her son? Justin had been hospitalized after swallowing some pills that he had mistaken for candy—pills that Eddie had stashed in the back of his car when he came for a visitation.
On that awful day, Mary never left Justin’s side, not even as she heard the nurse say she was being reported to social services, not when she heard the words protective custody, not when she heard the term aggravated assault and not even when the photographer started snapping pictures right in the hospital room to start the criminal investigation.
Right there in the hospital that day, a tightness gripped her heart as she realized what she’d allowed to happen, what she’d become—way too many years ago. She was as much to blame as Eddie because she knew. She knew!
The only way she could live with herself was to get Justin away from the life she’d always known and to make a change. That meant getting away from not only her husband but also her family. Rather than wait for the fallout, she ran. She’d do anything to keep her son safe and away from the life the rest of her family had chosen.
She and Justin had spent the past three years moving to a new place every time Mary feared someone was watching. He’d heard more “We’ll see” and “Not this time” putoffs than a kid deserved.
He headed toward the abandoned bay. Mary let him go. He was pushing for space and she needed to let him have some. Once again, everything in his life had changed. But this time, they were home. At least, she hoped it could be home again.
“Maybe coming back was a mistake, but I just couldn’t run anymore,” Mary whispered to the wind.
The wind didn’t dispute her; a lone tumbleweed offered no advice.
Justin disappeared around a corner, and Mary wished she could disappear, too. Instead, she stoically marched toward the decaying office building, stuck her key in the knob and turned.
The door still squeaked when you opened it. The floor still had ugly green-speckled tile and sloped a bit. The whole place smelled like dust and neglect. When Eddie managed it, it had smelled like exhaust fumes, cigarette smoke and tension.
At least the tension was gone.
“I’ve made so many mistakes,” she whispered into the stale air. And it sounded like she got an answering moan. Mary stepped back in surprise, then peered into the door of Eddie’s former office.
At first, Mary thought the prone figure wrapped in an aged blanket surrounded by years of grime and neglect was dead. Then, it rolled over and sat up.
Mary screamed.
TWO
The wide-eyed young woman in the blanket struggled to sit up, then fell back and looked ready to cry. Now that her heart had dropped back into her chest, Mary could see she was no more than a girl, a teenager, really, with matted black hair.
“Are you hurt? Do you need me to call someone?” Mary did not need any complications. Not on her first day back to the Gila City and Broken Bones area. She’d wanted to slide in under the radar. A girl in a blanket hiding out in Mary’s abandoned car lot didn’t bode well at all.
The girl responded with a blank stare.
“Are you well enough to move?”
Still no answer. Mary had grown up around some of the best con artists in the world, namely her father, brothers and her late husband, and she knew when someone was playing her. She hadn’t liked the game then; she didn’t like it now. She reached into her purse for her cell phone and said, “I only speak English. What a pity. I guess I’ll have to call the police.”
The girl finally sat up. She hardly weighed anything and her torn and dirty clothing looked two sizes too big. Mary swallowed.
She punched numbers into her cell phone and waited. The girl didn’t have to know that the numbers she’d dialed were only to check her voice mail.
“No, please,” came the response in halting but clear English. “I will leave.”
Mary flipped her phone shut. Truthfully, she was hoping to avoid the police at all cost, but now what was she going to do?
The girl slowly got to her feet, took two steps, stumbled, fell and passed out cold. This was definitely not the new beginning in Arizona Mary had hoped for, but maybe it was the beginning she deserved.
Bending down next to the girl, Mary said gently, “I’m right here.” There was no response. Taking a breath, Mary reached for an arm. The girl was heavier than she looked but Mary was able to drag her into the main room and lay her on the dusty couch. Still, the girl remained unconscious.
“Who are you?” Mary whispered, “And what am I going to do with you?”
The girl still didn’t stir.
Justin chose that moment to stomp in. His unruly hair flopping over his sweaty brow; he stopped at the door. In his hand, he held up what looked like a tailpipe. “I thought I heard a scream. Are you okay, Mom?” When Mary nodded, he threw the pipe back out the door. “This place is a mess. Are you sure we want it?”
“I’m sure.”
“Are we leaving now to meet Uncle Eric?”
“I don’t think Eric is our main concern anymore. But, you’re right. We need to get moving and I need your help.”
Looking suspicious, Justin slowly moved from the door to the desk. Now he could see the girl lying on the rundown couch. “Wow! Who’s she?”
“I don’t know. I found her in the back room and—” Before Mary could say another word, Justin interrupted.
“Is she dead?”
“No!”
Justin looked intrigued. “Are you sure?”
Great. Not only did her kid assume the worst, but he did it in an offhand manner. Shades of her brothers? Too much television? Mary wasn’t sure, but it bothered her. “She’s not dead. She just fainted.”
Justin nodded, managing to look both interested and unfazed.
“Go out to the car and get me a bottled water,” Mary finally said. “And grab something for her to eat.”
The water woke the girl up, the small bag of chips lasted about thirty seconds and the sight of Justin made her cry.
“What did I do?” Justin asked.
“Nothing, she probably just needs a good cry.”
The girl hiccuped and asked, “Are police coming?”
“I didn’t call them,” Mary said.
The girl relaxed a bit and stared at Justin. “Your brother?”
“Oh, I like you!” Mary exclaimed. “No, this is my son.”
“Son?” The girl seemed to draw into herself. This time, when the tears flowed, it didn’t look like they’d stop anytime soon. They certainly showed no sign of ceasing while Justin and Mary finally helped her to her feet and propelled her toward the door and out to the car. She went willingly into the backseat and curled up in a fetal position.
Justin raised his eyebrows, glanced at his mother and shrugged. It was actually refreshing. For the first time in days Justin wasn’t bemoaning the move to Broken Bones, Arizona.
For her part, the girl in the back was busy talking to God in Spanish. Mary figured part of the prayer had to do with the way she backed up the car with the U-Haul attached. The prayer was enough to keep the bud out of Justin’s ear and inspire curious looks that might mean actual conversation.
“What are we going to do with her, Mom?” Justin positioned himself so he could stare at their passenger.
“Take her to the cabin, feed her, clean her up and,” Mary switched to a fake German accent, “ve haf vays to make her tock.”
Justin chuckled and looked back at the girl. She struggled to a sitting position as Justin asked, “Do you have a name?”
“Alma.”
Trust Justin to ask a simple question and get a simple answer. Mary felt relieved. “Well, Alma, now that you’re talking, why don’t you tell us where we can take you? What you were doing at the car lot?”
Alma didn’t answer. Obviously Mary hadn’t mastered asking “simple” questions. “Alma?” Justin said to himself. “I’ve never heard of that name.”
Alma answered in flawless English. “I am named after my grandmother.”
“Are you from Mexico?”
“Yes.”
“When did you move here?”
“Maybe it has been a week.”
Justin was on a roll. “We just got here today. Mom says I’ll get to go to school and play sports. Baseball’s my favor—”
Mary butted in. “Are you homeless? Are you hiding from someone?”
No answer.
“I can help,” Mary said softly.
“Yeah,” Justin agreed. “We’re real good at hiding.”
Alma frowned. “I am hiding. From…No. I’m looking for my husband and—”
“Husband?” Mary interrupted. Yikes! The girl barely looked old enough to be past Barbie dolls and high school pep rallies. “Where is your husband?” Mary asked. “Do you need me to call him?”
“I think he’s dead.” The words were soft and they tore at Mary’s heart because she could hear the sorrow infused in them.
“Oh,” Justin said. “My dad’s dead, too. He died just a few years ago.”
“Leandro has been gone six months.” Alma choked up and then continued, “He was coming here.”
Justin asked the question before Mary could. “What do you mean gone? Is he dead or just missing?”
“He is missing, but I know he is dead or he would come for me.”
“My dad’s really dead.” Just like that Justin bought into the missing equals dead explanation. Well, in their world, at one time, missing meant dead, but not anymore. After all, Mary had mastered the art of “missing” without dying. Her brother Kenny was missing, yet Mary didn’t think of him as dead. She also never brought Kenny’s name up in Justin’s presence because at first, the mention of Kenny’s name made Justin cry.
Mary may wish that Eric would be the favorite uncle, the role model, but in truth, Uncle Kenny had been around when the going got tough. And Justin remembered Kenny as a happy-go-lucky uncle. One who chased him down halls and put together train sets. Justin, fortunately, didn’t know that Kenny did all this with a gun strapped to his ankle. Mary didn’t want Justin to miss Kenny. Justin was too impressionable now.
Alma went back to her original fetal position. The fetal position was a surprisingly good don’t-ask-me-any-more-questions technique that Mary had used herself once or twice. Then, the cabin came into view and Mary slowed. “Home sweet home,” she told Justin, looking at the century-old cabin that had been Eric’s inheritance from their grandfather. But now Eric lived in Gila City with his new wife and family and he was letting them stay here rent-free.
“And you’re sure we’ll have TV?” Justin asked.
“I’m sure. Maybe not today, but by next week for sure.”
Justin sat up and peered out the windshield. “Is the dark-haired guy Uncle Eric? I don’t remember him. He’s not as big as Uncle Kenny.”
No, Eric wasn’t as big as Uncle Kenny. Both Mary and Eric looked more like their mother. They were tall, dark and sinewy. Their older brothers, Sardi, Tony and Kenny, looked like their father. They resembled tall, dark, walking refrigerators. Eric’s friend had good-looking down to an art, but he sure wasn’t dressed for the dirty work of unloading furniture and unpacking boxes.
Both men started walking toward the driver’s side window. The friend’s walk was sure, deliberate. He moved without a smile. There was something about him…“He’s a cop,” Mary muttered.
Alma ducked.
“What are we going to do, Mom?” Justin sat up, half excited, half worried. In the backseat, panic seemed to roll off the girl in waves.
Mary recognized the extreme fear. A lifetime of avoiding police detection came back too easily. “Justin, it’s more like what you are going to do. Jump out, run over, give your Uncle Eric a hug and turn them away from the car. Alma, you slip out when they’re not looking and go hide. You’ll need to hide for quite a while. They’ll be unloading the U-Haul. Take some food and water from the box on the floorboard.”
Justin obeyed, and Mary watched as he approached and the men turned to the side.
Glancing in the backseat and watching as Alma rolled trail mix, chips and bottles of water into her blanket, Mary knew Alma had no intention of coming back.
Being alone for two days must have damaged Mitch’s vocal chords. Yes, that was it. Two days without giving orders, conducting interrogations or heading up meetings had combined to render him speechless. Otherwise, he’d have to admit it was the gorgeous woman stepping out of the car who left him tongue-tied.
Speechlessness wasn’t a comfortable feeling for Mitch, especially over the likes of Mary Santellis-Graham. He could see that she wasn’t nearly as bowled over by him. She had already made him as a cop and he wasn’t surprised by her quick assessment. Mary was a Santellis who’d been on the run for the past three years. Cop and bogeyman were synonymous in her world.
Eric appeared oblivious to the tension between Mitch and his sister and asked, “How was the drive?”
That’s when Mary smiled and his tongue went from tied to gone completely. Mitch hoped he didn’t need to say anything because he couldn’t, even if he tried.
