Unlock the Truth

Chapter Fourteen

Four o’clock came too soon. Dena paced the small casita, picking up items, inspecting them, putting them back. She’d sent Manny on an errand, wanting the time alone to quiz Bob Carmine, the telephone repairman.

He arrived fifteen minutes late, which made her even more anxious. She eyed her watch for the hundredth time. Her plan to ride over to Cyril’s place after Bob finished his work was fading fast. She needed time for a shower before dinner.

Bob said something about the phone number. Dena frowned, asked him to repeat it.

“Oh,” she said. “I hadn’t realized the number was the same as the house number.”

“I can make it a separate line.”

The name on his uniform, Bob, danced before her eyes. She swallowed hard and shook her head. “It’s not my place, not my decision.”

“The request here says to activate the existing jack.” He raised the clipboard, watched her. “It’s your call. Be the easiest and quickest thing to do, won’t require any rewiring.”

Had he noticed her checking the time?

“Just do whatever the order says.” How would she go about sharing a line with Zeke? She paced back to the living area, watched Bob check the wires in the jack on the kitchen wall, and tried to stop her heart from racing so fast.

“Huh. Nothing wrong with it,” he said, and turned to stare at her. “You ever pick up the handset?”

Dena shook her head. “No. I was told it didn’t work.”

“Well, you’ve got dial tone. Ringer’s been turned off, that’s all.”

“So, whoever lived here before didn’t want to hear the incoming calls to the house?” That was interesting. “I’m so sorry you had to drive out all this way.”

“No problem. I’ll hang with Manny for a few minutes.”

“He went to the art store in town. I’m not certain he’s back.” She swallowed hard then took in a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. If this Bobby was the bad guy, should she be reminding him she was alone here? She forced a smile. “He said you two are friends. You’re Bobby, right?”

“Bobby?” he scoffed. “Can’t stand being called that, hated it in kindergarten, still do.” He laughed. “Manny must have had an off day.”

“Sorry.” Dena laughed and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “No, it’s me. I have a cousin named Bobby. I see the name Bob and automatically think of him.”

“Geez, my wife sometimes calls our son Bobby, and even then I cringe.”

“What do you call your son?”

“Robert, or Junior.” He laughed, shoving a few tools back into his utility belt. He waved a hand toward the canvases in the living room. “Manny said you guys are organizing an art fair.”

“Yes. Are you interested in art?”

“Nope, I leave that stuff to Manny. I haven’t got a creative bone in my body.”

Dena smiled and walked him up toward the hacienda. His cell phone rang and he grinned as he checked the caller ID. He chatted for a few seconds then turned to her with another smile.

“Sorry, that was my wife. She had to tell me something funny that happened to Junior.”

Relief rushed through her. He seemed like a really nice guy, one who wasn’t into dallying. She mentally checked him off her list of potential bad guys.

“Looks like Manny is still out, he—”

“Yeah, figures.” He gestured to the empty spot under the tree. “The garage is empty.”

Bob strode up the stairs and knocked on the back door. Irma let him inside and craned her neck in the direction of the casita. Seeing Dena at the foot of the steps, she stiffened. “Manny is okay?”

“Yes, we’ve managed to get a lot of work done. He’s out doing errands.”

Irma smiled, yelled something to Bob about getting a soda, and went back inside.

Manny had gone to buy lacquer to spray onto his canvases, and he’d talked about gold leaf paint for signatures. He said he’d never signed his work before because it was a gift from God. Dena hoped she wouldn’t cause his work to become over-commercialized. He’d lose his talent that way for sure.

She looked at her watch, then toward the stables, then beyond them toward the base of the mountains and the trail to Cyril’s estate. There wasn’t enough time. Her ride would have to wait until tomorrow.

Hurrying back to the casita, she stopped and admired the paintings on the long tables. Those untitled by Isabella had stirred her creative juices, and she and Manny had tossed around titles all morning.

A shadow fell across the table.

Her head shot up, her breath captured in the back of her throat. “Oh, Rocky,” she said, and pulled in a quick breath. “I didn’t know you were there.”

Her heart beat fast and she put a hand to her chest. “Did you see Manny’s work?” she asked, and tried to gain some composure. How long had he been standing around the corner?

“I’ve seen it before. It’s rubbish. What do you think you’re going to prove?” Rocky picked up a canvas and glowered at her from below thick black brows.

“Didn’t Zeke explain about the art fair?”

“He did. But my point is why? Why now?” His frown deepened. “It doesn’t make sense. This is a time to lie low, not put Three C’s name in lights.”

“Why would you think that, Rocky?” she asked gently.

He dropped the canvas onto the table. “There’s a ton of bad news out there about Three C’s. We’re being discussed at dinner everywhere in the valley.”

“And you know this because…”

“Because I’m a member of this community, and you’re a stranger. You should go back to the city and stop making trouble.”

How dare he? Her heartbeat quickened and she felt that strong need to defend. She tamped it down and smiled. “This will help Zeke, and Three C’s.”

“I don’t see how. With Susie’s body being discovered, Manny’s association with that college girl’s rape, and—”

“That has got nothing to do with Three C’s.” She tried to stop the bristling defense of Manny that had spread through her chest and caused her voice to rise. She swallowed hard again before continuing. “Besides, Manny is innocent.”

“How do you know?” Rocky asked nastily. “Cyril doesn’t think so, and he has his finger on the pulse of this town.”

He almost spat the words out and Dena drew back a little. “I just know it,” she said, but stood her ground. There was no way in hell she’d let him talk like that about Manny. “Manny’s a good kid—”

“Why? Because he paints pictures?”

“No,” she said, and moved a little farther away from him, rearranged a couple of paintings. She had to calm down, engage him in conversation. “Are you and Cyril good friends?”

Rocky scowled at her. “We know each other.”

“Work related, or do you socialize?”

When Rocky didn’t answer, Dena picked up a painting of a doorway into a hacienda. Maybe she’d pushed too hard too fast. “Do you know the history of these paintings?” she asked.

“Why?”

“Well, I know you and Isabella were close. I thought maybe she’d told you about—”

“What would it matter if she had?”

“It would give me a history to work with.” She forced a smile and waved a hand toward the small paintings. “If they’re local doorways that would add a little more interest, gain a higher price.”

“What does it matter? You’re giving the proceeds away.”

Dena blinked hard a couple of times. Was that what bothered him? He didn’t understand the giving away of funds to gain public awareness. She took in a deep breath and released it slowly.

“The money is going to charity. It will help to restore the Cabrera name in the community. Besides, I think Isabella would have liked it, and—”

“You don’t know what she would have liked.” He slammed his fist against the table causing several paintings to slide into each other. “You know nothing.” His mouth twisted into a sneer. “You never knew her.”

One painting slid to the pavement. With a racing heart, Dena knelt and picked it up. “Well, I didn’t know her, but—”

“Don’t tell me Zeke told you about Isabella, because he didn’t know his own mother.” He studied her for a moment then turned and strode away.

She shuddered. He could ruin this art fair. But on a larger scale, was he trying to scare her, trying to run her out of town? She hurried inside the casita, flopped into one of the pink armchairs, and tried to figure out how to proceed.

It took Dena a good fifteen minutes to stop her heart from racing and her thoughts from flying off at tangents. At least she hadn’t gone into a full-blown panic attack. In fact, Rocky’s behavior only made her more determined to get to the bottom of what was going on at Three C’s.

She dialed Manny on his cell phone.

“Wassup?”

“Hey, Manny,” Dena said, her voice shaking a little. “I think we should protect the artwork. Leaving it here is not safe. Do you know anywhere to store it, somewhere with security?” It was only a thought, but one she couldn’t deny. Rocky might steal the paintings, or destroy them. She couldn’t let that happen.

“My room…maybe?”

“No, I meant off premises.”

“Gotcha. Yeah, my friend’s father has a storage unit business. We can rent one. We’d have the only key.”

Where had she heard that before? “Okay, can you come home now? I want to do this right away.”

“But we haven’t framed all of them yet.”

“I know. We’ll keep those, and the smaller boxed items, in my living room. It’s the larger canvases I want to protect.”

“Okay, you want me to order a unit?”

“Yes, please. But then come straight back here, okay?”

“Yeah.” There was a long pause. “You all right? Nothing happened, did it?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m not sure, but Rocky asked about you before I left. He was kind of surly,” Manny said. “I told you, he’s changed and I’m not sure I trust him.”

“Me neither.”

“So, it was him.” Manny rattled off a few curse-filled sentences in Spanish. “Damn it. He upset you. I’m going to—”

“Manny!” Dena yelled to get his attention. “Come right home, and I’ll tell you exactly what happened.”

The last thing she needed was two Latinos going for the jugular. Geez, if Stanton turned up at Three C’s one more time this week he’d lock someone up and toss away the key.

“Manny?”

He blew out a long audible breath. “All right, yeah, you’re right,” he said. “I shouldn’t go blowing my top. I’m an hour away.”

****

Dena leaned against the highly polished counter at Cliff’s and smiled up at Zeke. Debbie Williams worked the bar like a pro. She and Rachel tossed comments back and forth as they worked, and many of the patrons joined in. It was a lively and friendly bar.

A man came up and slapped Zeke on the shoulder. “I thought it was you.”

Zeke jumped off the barstool, grinning from ear to ear, and gave the guy a huge bear hug. They talked in earnest for a bit, totally relaxed and chatting about high school football days.

“You guys can go shoot some pool, if you want,” Dena said.

Zeke raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“You wouldn’t mind?” his friend asked.

Dena shook her head. “Deb and I are talking girl talk.” She smiled sweetly, and the guys took off. She needed time alone to talk to the women. Dena looked around, making sure Zeke wasn’t in hearing distance.

“The guy is probably someone from high school,” Debbie said. “Who, I don’t quite remember—”

“You knew ’em all,” Rachel said, and dug Debbie in the ribs as she walked by. “He was captain of the football team, in our junior year.”

Debbie flushed and looked away. A tiny sliver of jealousy crept up Dena’s spine. Had she “known” Zeke? The woman was beautiful and so petite. She could have any man she wanted. And she didn’t wear a wedding band. Or any rings on her tiny fingers for that matter.

“You all went to school together?” Dena asked, and pushed away her envy. That was so silly. She and Zeke weren’t an item. She took a sip of wine.

Debbie nodded.

“Yep.” Rachel slid down the bar, her movements quick. “Zeke’s the only one who got away from us. Me and Deb here—old butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth—were pretty wild back in the day.”

“Rache,” Debbie said, and frowned. “Nobody needs to hear that.”

Dena laughed, took a sip of her drink. “Did either of you know Carli, the first woman who was murdered and found out at Three C’s?”

They both shook their heads.

“Never came in here,” Rachel said. She looked around the bar and the lounge. “I can tell you something about every gal and guy in this place…”

“You better believe her.” Debbie smiled. “Between both of our places we’ve become the town’s shrinks, and do we have stories!”

“Yep.” Rachel raised her eyebrows then wriggled them. “It’s cheaper to get a massage, or a few drinks, and spill your guts.”

Dena laughed. She knew that feeling. She’d acted as psychologist to many a client. She looked around again. Zeke gave her a wave and raised one finger. She smiled and nodded. There were tons of nice looking guys. She watched the women flirt and work the room.

Carli had liked noisy bars and happy hour. She wasn’t big on nightclubs. Cliffs would have been her favorite hangout and she’d have liked Rachel, for sure. The women knew everyone from all the way back to kindergarten. Dena thought about that. Carli wasn’t known in the La Quinta and Rancho Almagro towns, so why again was her body found out here on farmland?

“I knew Carli,” Dena said softly. “She sent me a necklace that Isabella had made. I thought maybe she’d bought it from you.”

“I guess she could have,” Debbie said. “But I think I’d remember that, and her. We get a lot of older women who move here, or snowbirds who come for the season. Young women, our own age, we tend to remember.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Sorry I couldn’t help. I can check back in my books, see if she made an appointment with one of my employees.”

Dena nodded. “That would be great. I’m looking for any connections she might have made out here. You could call me at Zeke’s place. I’m staying in the casita.”

Zeke crossed the room, planted a kiss on her neck. “They have our reservation ready, are you hungry?”

“Starved. It was nice talking to you,” Dena said to Debbie, and slid off the barstool. “See you around.”

Debbie’s eyes twinkled. She leaned close. “You’re one lucky duck,” she whispered. Then to Zeke she said, “You take good care of Dena here. She’s a special lady.”

“Yes ma’am,” Zeke said. He winked at Dena, slung an arm around her shoulder, and tucked her beneath his arm. He grinned back at Debbie. “You know, you two ladies should come out some time and go riding.”

“Just like we used to when we were in high school,” Debbie said, and clapped her hands together. “It sure would be fun. We’ll give you a call.”

And with that Debbie hurried down the bar, calling out her excitement to Rachel. Dena smiled. The female company would be great, and it was wonderful to see Zeke open up, embrace his community again.

****

Zeke sat back in the restaurant chair, highly amused. Dena hadn’t stopped talking about his mother’s and Manny’s artworks since they’d been seated. He leaned across the table.

“More wine?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

The waiter appeared out of nowhere, lifted the bottle of wine and topped up both glasses. After he left, she waved her hands around for emphasis. “So what do you think? Good plan, huh?”

“Perfect.”

He wondered how she’d had a chance to eat anything, yet there was no food left on her plate. She was filled with an excitable energy. Was she nervous being with him? He poured the last of the wine. Just being around her made him feel more alive than he’d felt in years, so he hoped it wasn’t him making her nervous, unless it was the good kind.

“So, let me see if I’ve got this straight. The chili cook-off is this Saturday, and the art fair is a week after that?” Zeke asked.

“Yes. I might even call Steve and run my ideas by him.”

“He wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Do you miss your job?”

“I’ve been so busy I hardly even think of the office. It seems like weeks rather than days since I last walked through those doors.”

“Not sorry you quit?” he asked, and swirled the wine in his glass, watching her. She seemed even more nervous than earlier.

“Not a bit. And by the way, advertising is Steve’s forte.”

“And yours?”

“Talking, of course, but you knew that. You know, Manny is fired up about the chili cook-off.” She grimaced and her eyes turned cloudy. “I’m not too sure that Rocky is.”

“Oh?” Zeke held his glass midway to his lips. So that was it? The nervousness was because of Rocky. He leaned forward. “What did he say to you?”

“We had a minor altercation. He questioned my actions.”

“How bad was it?”

“He was rude. But he’s never liked me, or what I propose doing for Three C’s.”

Zeke straightened. He sensed she was down playing Rocky’s negative comments. “I’ll speak with him.”

“No. Let it slide. He might want you to take sides. He’d bank on longevity with the family—”

“Well, he might bet on the wrong horse,” Zeke said softly. He took another sip of wine. He’d have to keep an eye on his old friend. “I want you to promise me, if he gives you any more trouble you’ll tell me.”

“Fair enough.”

Zeke smiled and relaxed. “It’ll be good for Manny to have this moment in the spotlight.”

“He said he’s going to concentrate on the cook-off first. He’ll go to one of the big supply stores and stock up on ground beef and beans and all the fixings. The men who compete will supply their own secret ingredients. We’ll provide the basics. Of course there will have to be a keg.”

“Undoubtedly,” Zeke said, and raised his eyebrows. “So, we’re doing this out at the lake?”

“Uh huh. Everyone will bring their own pot to cook in, and their utensils. We’ll supply everything else. Manny said he can set up a large portable barbeque and double-burners.”

“Where is the electricity for those?” Zeke frowned.

“The old house, there’s still electricity there.” She smiled. “I rode over this afternoon and checked it out.”

“There is? Why?” Zeke asked, then he frowned. “You rode over by yourself?”

“Why not? I took Nancy. She’s a great horse. Quiet and sweet.” She averted her eyes from his gaze. “Anyway, it’s a good thing about the electricity, we can use the shade from the long verandah for anyone who needs to get out of the sun, and we can set long tables up there for eating.”

“You’re amazing,” Zeke said, and reached for her hand. “But, I’d rather you didn’t ride around on your own. Will you promise me you won’t do that when I’m gone?”

She flashed him a smile. “Deal.”

He’d have to speak to Rocky about electricity at the old place. First it was a fire hazard because the wiring had to be ancient. And who needed it? It was just another bill to pay. After Saturday he’d begin with his plans to demolish the building.

“Thank you for everything.” He ran his thumb across the back of Dena’s hand. “I love your energy.”

Her lips parted in surprise. He wished they sat closer so he could kiss her.

“Where will we hold the art fair?” he asked, and tried not to focus on her lips.

“Um…I’m not sure. I’ve made some calls and there are available function rooms. Or, we could always do it around the perimeter of the casita and the pool. It would be a nice setting, but it would also mean you’d have to open your home.”

Zeke raised his wine glass. “Eh. I’m not much for that idea.” He took a long sip. He’d surprised himself by inviting Debbie and Rachel out to Three C’s earlier. That was a first. But he did like the women and they’d be fun for Dena to hang out with.

She smiled. “I figured you wouldn’t be enthused about that plan, but on the plus side there’d be no rental fee for a room.”

He thought it over for a moment, weighed the no fee against his privacy being invaded. “What might be nice,” he said slowly, and allowed the thought to take shape. “As this is a tribute to my mother, we could hold it at the Polo Club in Indio.”

“Oh?”

“Dad was a polo player. We’ve always been members.” Excitement built inside him. He eased back in the chair and thought of events they’d held at the club when he was a kid.

“The club is perfect.” He grinned, glad he could participate in some way. “I’ll take you there for lunch the day after tomorrow. We can eat at the Tack Room restaurant and you can check out the place.”

“Would it be available on such short notice?”

“Easy to find out. There’ll be staff still hanging around out there.” He made a call. After a couple of minutes of discussion he put the BlackBerry back in his jacket pocket. “I guess you heard, I put a temporary hold on it, but it’s all subject to your approval.”

“Thank you.”

Dena flashed him one of her brilliant, beautiful smiles, and he warmed to the core. He loved to please her. Could think of a million ways he might please her, but had to push those thoughts away. There’d be time later.

“We need to do both events in quick succession,” Dena said. “I’ll get the advertising started once we know for sure. I’ll contact the newspaper and the local TV station while you go to L.A., and can fill in the details the minute we confirm the Polo Club. Both Debbie and Rachel said they’ll take fliers for their establishments to help get the word out.”

“You’ve thought this through well. I like how you think. Um…this is probably a huge imposition, but speaking of how your mind works, I’ve scanned the old ledgers of my mother. There are some confusing items and…well, I wonder if you’d take a look.”

“Sure. When should we do that?”

Zeke pushed back in his chair. “Tonight? I’d appreciate a second set of eyes. If you’ll come to my office it shouldn’t take long. I’ll even spring for another bottle of wine.”

“Not if I have to look at numbers,” she said and laughed. He relaxed into the pleasure of the sound. Somehow an evening of boring accounting had taken on a whole new light.