“You sure you don’t want to come?” Carson asked, though Zach figured having the black sheep of the family in attendance was the last thing Carson wanted.
“No thanks. I wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”
“You could bring Lisa. I’ll be taking Elizabeth Conners.”
The name hit a cord in his memory bank. Liz Conners. She was four years his junior. Once, before he’d gone to prison, he’d been drunk and high and he had come on to her pretty hard outside the coffee shop where she had a part-time job after school. Liz had slapped his face—something no other woman had ever done—and he had never forgotten her.
“I thought she was married and living in Orange County someplace.”
“She was. She’s divorced now, moved back to town a couple of years ago.”
“That so?” San Pico was the last place Zach would want to live. Coming up to visit his dad in the rest home and working on expanding the youth farm was the most he could manage. “Tell Liz I said hello.”
Inwardly he smiled, thinking he was the last person Liz Conners would be happy to hear from. He’d kind of thought Liz was the sort of woman who’d be able to see through a man like his brother. Then again, there was no accounting for people’s tastes.
Carson said no more, just returned to the stack of work on his desk. Zach left the study without a goodbye and headed for his car. He was surprised Carson knew he had been seeing Lisa Doyle and he didn’t like it that he did. He didn’t like Carson knowing anything about him. He didn’t trust his half brother and never had.
Whatever Carson might think, Lisa wasn’t really his type. But she liked hot, raunchy sex, no strings attached, and so did Zach, and they had been sleeping together off and on for years.
And he didn’t have to worry about getting a motel room when he was in town and Lisa didn’t have to worry about picking up some stranger in a bar when she wanted to get laid.
It was a good deal for both of them.
Elizabeth looked up at the sound of a knock at her door. The door swung wide and her boss, Dr. Michael James, stuck his head through the opening. Michael, just under six feet tall with sandy hair and hazel eyes, had a Ph.D. in psychology. He had opened the office five years ago. Elizabeth had been working for him for the past two. Michael was engaged to be married, but lately he seemed to be having second thoughts and Elizabeth wasn’t sure he was going to go through with the wedding.
“How’d it go with Raul?” he asked, another of the young man’s supporters. Raul had a way of endearing himself to people, though on the surface he seemed to do his best to achieve just the opposite.
“He’s decided to enroll in the program.”
“That’s great. Now if he’ll just stick to it.”
“He was excited, I think. Of course, Sam could sell sour milk to cows.”
“So you were impressed with the farm. I thought you would be.”
“It’s really coming along. Carson has done a wonderful job.”
“Yes, he has. Though it seems to me everything he does is a bit self-serving. Lately, I heard a rumor he may be running for a seat in the state assembly.”
“I don’t know him very well, but he seems community-minded. Maybe he’d be good for the job.”
“Maybe.” Though Michael didn’t seem completely convinced.
They spoke for a moment more, then Dr. James left the office and the phone rang. When Elizabeth picked it up, she recognized Raul Perez’s voice.
“I am calling about my sister,” he said simply. “I saw her this morning after Miguel went to work. She was very upset. She tries to hide it, but I know her too well. Something is wrong. Do you think you could stop by the house sometime today?”
“Actually, I’ve been meaning to get over there to see her. I’ll stop by this afternoon. Will your sister be home?”
“I think so. I wish I knew what was wrong.”
“I’ll see if I can find out,” Elizabeth promised and as she hung up the phone she wondered what it could be.
In a job where she dealt with family violence, drugs, robbery and even murder, it would take a great deal to surprise her.
Three
It was after five o’clock, and the office was closed by the time Elizabeth was able to leave. She made the drive through town in the after-five traffic, nothing like the bumper-to-bumper, endless line of cars on the L.A. freeways she used to battle when she lived in Santa Ana, but enough to keep her stopped on Main Street through two sets of red lights.
Downtown San Pico was only ten blocks long, some of the store signs printed in Spanish. Miller’s Dry Cleaners, perched on the corner, had a laundromat attached. There was a JC Penney catalog store, several clothing stores, and a couple of diners, including Marge’s Café, where she had worked part-time in high school.
As she drove past the coffee shop, she could see the long Formica counter and pink vinyl booths inside. Even after twenty years, the place still did a brisk business. Aside from The Ranch House, a steak and prime rib restaurant at the edge of town, it was the only decent place to eat.
A few straggly sycamore trees grew out of the sidewalks that lined the downtown streets but not many. There were a couple of gas stations, a Burger King, a McDonald’s and a sleezy bar called The Roadhouse out where Highway 51 intersected Main Street. The biggest boon to the area had been the arrival two years ago of a Wal-Mart, built to service the town and several outlying farming communities.
Elizabeth continued down Main and turned onto the highway, heading for Harcourt Farms. The little yellow house where Maria and Miguel Santiago lived sat just off the road in an area of the farm that included three other overseers’ houses, half a dozen farm laborer cottages, and the big, white, wood-frame, two-story owner’s house, which sat some distance away.
Elizabeth’s car bumped over a set of abandoned railroad tracks not far from the house. She pulled off the road into a spot next to the driveway and climbed out of the Acura.
She had saved for two years to get the down payment for the car and she loved it. With its red leather seats and wood-paneled interior, it made her feel younger just to sit behind the wheel. She had bought the car because she thought that at thirty, she shouldn’t be feeling as old as she often did.
She walked along the cement sidewalk past a flowerbed blooming with red and yellow zinnias. Elizabeth knocked on the front door of the house, and a few minutes later, Maria Santiago pulled it open.
“Ms. Conners.” She smiled. “What a nice surprise. It is good to see you. Please come in.” Maria was a slender young woman, except for the protrusion of her belly and her ever-increasing breasts. Her long black hair was braided, as she often wore it, and hanging down her back.
“Thank you.” Elizabeth walked into the house, which Maria kept immaculately clean. The girl, as neatly kept as the house, wore a pair of white, ankle-length pants and a loose-fitting blue-flowered blouse. Except for the tight lines around her mouth and the faint smudges beneath her eyes, she looked lovely.
“Miguel and I, we want to thank you for what you did for Raul. I have never seen him so excited, though of course, he tried not to show it.” She frowned as a thought occurred. “He is not in more trouble? That is not the reason you are here?”
“No, of course not. This has nothing to do with Raul. Except that your brother is worried about you. Raul asked me to stop by.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He thinks you are upset about something. He isn’t sure what it is. He hoped that you might talk to me