Eric ran a hand over his chin, surprised to discover several days’ growth across his face. “How did you get the antibiotics?”
“Don’t concern yourself.” The corners of Lee’s lips lifted slightly. “Just say I know people who know some other people. Let it go at that.”
“
Maravilloso
. At last, you’re awake.” A small, curvy Mexican lady flowed into the room, straight to his bed. She grasped his whiskered jawline in the cup of her palm. “What beautiful eyes,” she said in heavily accented Spanish. “It is good they’re open.” She released his chin then extended her hand to him gracefully. “I’m Darla’s momma, Nohemi.”
Eric stared at her. The woman was beautiful. She appeared much younger than Darla’s father and definitely projected a more welcoming air he didn’t get from her dad.
“It’s pronounced Naomi in English, although I’m not sure if that helps you,” Darla interjected.
Eric clasped her fingers lightly before he released them. Darla strolled to her mother’s side, standing nearly four inches taller. Both possessed the same wild, dark curls. Darla had her father’s eyes, although she retained her own style of beauty. He couldn’t see she favored either of her parents much.
“I haven’t properly introduced you, yet. Momma, Daddy, this is Eric Boyd.”
Eric only managed a nod, overwhelmed by all the sudden attention and togetherness. It’d been years since he’d experienced any kind of caring or warmth like this. The recollections of his own home flooded his mind and almost choked him from the realization of how much he missed his family.
“You’re hungry,
mi hijo
. You’ve been asleep for a long time. I make food this morning. I’ll bring you some now. Then we get to know you.”
“Momma, let him heal completely before you start delving into his personal life.”
Darla’s mother spoke to her in Spanish. Darla laughed before she answered, to Eric’s amazement, in fluent Spanish also.
“I’ll let you two be alone for a few minutes.” Lee followed his wife out the door. He glowered at Eric. “Then you and I will be having an extended discussion.”
“Daddy.” Darla shook her head. Her gaze affectionately trailed her parents as they left the room. She looked at Eric. “Excuse my father. Sometimes he can be a little unnerving.”
“A little?” Eric glanced toward the spot the man recently vacated. “He scares the shit out of me. I’m almost thinking I would’ve preferred to stay in California and deal with a killer than, what did he say…having an extended discussion with him?”
She laughed and sat down on the edge of his bed. “Is it a wonder when I was in school no boy ever took me out on a date more than once?”
“I can understand their reasons for not wanting to meet him.”
Darla giggled. “My advice is just reply ‘yes sir’ to whatever he says to you.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Eric glanced at the patch on his arm. “This bandage feels weird.” He made a face. “Like something’s sticky underneath.”
“Dad’s not the only one with his own brand of treatments. Momma has her beliefs also. Her choices lean toward Native American folk medicine.” She pointed to his covering. “There’s a spider web wrapped around your arm, under the bandages.”
“A what?” His voice cracked as his eyes skimmed the dressing again. The thought of a gummy web attached to his skin was disgusting.
“A spider web. The Native Americans used webs from arachnids for over two thousand years to fight infections, stop bleeding, and repair wounds. She’ll swear it’s what’s healing you over what my dad’s done or the doctor’s treatments.”
“She didn’t leave any spiders in there, did she?” Eric frowned as he shuddered. He swore something crawled underneath, and fought the urge to rip the thing off, but stopped short, preferring not to offend anyone.
“No.” Darla giggled. “That would be silly.”
“Right. Spiders in webs are silly. Your parents are some fascinating people.”
“You mean fascinating by the obvious cultural differences, or the obvious age difference, or their offbeat way of handling certain situations?” Darla smiled. “They’re a diverse pair, but their story is an interesting, beautiful one.” She relaxed on the bed and continued without any prompting. “Momma is Daddy’s second wife. He married young, had a son, and joined the armed forces all about the same time. Once enlisted, he chose to make the Army his career, but the woman became fed up with him gone so much and divorced him while overseas. She took their child and disappeared. Dad was devastated. Right after he received his Dear John letter, he was wounded and required to give up the military. When he returned to the states, he was unable to find his ex-wife or his son.
“Unsure what to do with his life and sad about how things turned out, he moved here to Port Isabel to recover. His grandparents lived in the area when he was younger, and he had good memories from his time growing up. He got a job for the sheriff’s department as a deputy. After a couple of years, he joined South Padre EMS operations, where he worked up until he retired last year. During the early times, he’d make frequent trips to Matamoros in Mexico, when entering the Mexican border towns was safer. He met my mother there. She tended bar at a cantina, serving drinks, and reading palms. At first, he was reluctant to let her read his, but after a few meetings, she convinced him. She claims when she did, she’d found her soul mate. They married six weeks later. They both say the marriage is the best thing they’ve ever done, aside from having us kids.”
“Wonderful story, luv.” He grinned. “Doubt if it’ll change my perspective, though.”
“Why would I expect it to? But true love does happen, whether you believe in the phenomenon or not.”
“If you say so. Hey, do you think you can sneak me in a smoke? I need one, bad.” His hopeful expression was met with a pair of disapproving eyes. He released a reluctant sigh. “Stupid question, I guess.”
“I guess.” She rose from the bed and gave him a half smile. “Be forewarned. When Momma says she wants to know you better, it means she wants to read your palm.”
Eric’s lips tightened, but he didn’t raise any objections. Her family had taken him in and taken care of him, made him well while also keeping him safe. He couldn’t say no if Darla’s mum wanted to inspect his hand and spout out a bunch of mumbo jumbo about his future or love life.
He glanced at a baseball bat in one corner. A ball and glove lay on the floor and a hat with the letters PI sewn in the middle, hung over the bat’s knob. “Whose bedroom is this and how did I get in here?”
“This room belongs to my younger brother, Adrian. As I’m sure you noticed from the spread photographs everywhere, he resembles Momma.” She waved a hand at the pictures throughout displaying a handsome Hispanic-looking teen in various stages of school. “He was here when we arrived the other night. He helped carry you inside after you fainted in the driveway.” Darla proceeded to give him an update on the events that occurred up until he’d awakened. “You’ll meet him at some point.” She placed her hands on her hips and glanced around the room. “But it’ll be later. He moved out a couple of years ago. He lives and works in Harlingen, plus he has a busy social life.”
“He’s big in martial arts, huh?” He nodded to the numerous trophies won in tai kwan do or other karate-type competitions.
“He participated in lots of contests when he was in school.”
“What kind of awards are in your room?”
“Mine are boxed up in the attic,” she explained. “My old bedroom is now the guestroom.”
“I’d like to see it anyway.” A corner of his lip rose as he teased, “Give me a tour later?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but her mother interrupted. “I made breakfast.” She breezed into the room carrying a tray of food. “You eat now. Then you rest. Later you’ll get out of bed.”
Darla’s father shadowed her inside. “You ladies excuse us.” He gave Eric a meaningful squint. “The two of us are going to have a quick heart-to-heart, while Mr. Boyd enjoys his meal.”
****
Late that evening, Darla lay in her bed, doing her best to concentrate on her book. A light tap came at her bedroom door. She looked up from her reading and stared at the closed entrance for several seconds before she whispered a soft, “Come in.”
Eric poked his head inside. “Got a second?”
“Sure.” She put her paperback aside, dragging the sheet farther up over her as he entered.
“You’re looking healthier each time I see you.”
“I’m feeling much better.”
Hands thrusts into his pockets, he wandered about until he stopped at the dresser to scan the ornamented surface, though he didn’t speak.
“Is everything okay?”
He spun around and smiled ruefully. “I need to say a few things.”
Darla shoved her hair away from her face and bobbed her head. He appeared uncomfortable, as if trying to find the right words. Fear welled in her chest and tightened inside. She webbed a curl through her fingers.
He cleared his throat before he spoke. A corner of his mouth slanted upward. “Had that chat with your dad. He insisted I give him the details on what’s been happening and how I came to have a bullet lodged in my upper arm. Since you’d kept the specifics to a minimum, I had to come clean. To say the least, after I revealed everything, he wasn’t thrilled I involved you.”
“Dads can be a little overprotective.”
“That’s why I try to avoid fathers.” He chuckled. “Yours is a bit of a hard ass, yet he seems like a pretty good guy. I explained to him about our money situation too.”
This news surprised Darla, though she did her best not to let it show. Or her satisfaction Eric was comfortable enough with her father to tell him of this major life setback.
“I don’t believe there’s any way we’re gonna come out of this without everything collapsing first.” He gave Darla a weary grin. “But your dad thinks he can help me. He’s contacted your brother. The older one, the lawyer you were telling me about.”
“Barry. My brother’s name is Barry.”
“Right. Barry.”
“We met for the first time five years ago when he and Dad found each other and reconnected. He’s a decent man. He’ll do whatever it takes to get this mess straightened out.”
Eric nodded. “He plans on filing a bunch of papers—I don’t remember what the legal terms are—against Dugan on the band’s behalf. He’s already got in touch with our record company and finished setting up an account to where they can deposit any new royalties. He’s also connected with some private investigators he’s gonna call. He says they’re all good at what they do and one should be able to track the asshole down.”
“Do you need to find Dugan before you can serve him with the documents?”
“It helps, but apparently it’s not necessary we know where he’s at.”
“That’s great.” Darla smiled. “Recovering your missing funds would be a big step.”
“Possibly. Barry needs the copies of my contracts I signed with Dugan as soon as possible, so he and several of his colleagues can study them and start the process.”
“Fantastic. You must be excited. There’s a chance you’ll get your money back.”
Eric lifted a shoulder. “I still think with Dugan disappearing, it’ll be hard to recover. Your brother is anxious to start an investigation. The problem is, we signed those contracts. I’m trying to stay positive, but I don’t wanna get my hopes up either.” He roamed over to her dresser, picked up a knick-knack, and inspected the glass piece.
Then he returned the trinket and turned back to her. He seemed to be searching for words. “I wanted to thank you. For everything. For helping me. For taking care of me and being so good to me when I gave you no reason to do anything for me.” He fidgeted. “I also want to apologize. For all the times I was an asshole. I don’t mean to be. Some people just don’t get my humor. And though it’s not an excuse, I’m not used to dealing with a real lady. But you deserve the best, Darla, don’t ever let anyone tell you, you don’t.” He turned his deep blue eyes to her. “Just wanted you to know.”
With a slight grin, she bowed her head. “Thank you for the apology and you’re welcome for the help.” She raised her chin to meet his gaze. “You just require a bit of adjustment in attitude when it comes to dealing with women. While I appreciate the fact you’re up front about your intentions, you need to remember every woman is a real lady, even if we don’t always behave like one. You should treat them with respect.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, but seemed uneasy. “I’d gotten spoiled from being in a band. Hardly anyone told me no. My mum would hit me upside the head if she knew about my behavior, because she taught me better. I’d forgotten how to be nice for real until I met you.”
“I’m sure your way of life was a big influence. I get that.” She waited a beat before she spoke. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You helped me a lot, even if you didn’t mean to.”
“Any help from me to you was an accident, for sure.” Eric released a short chuckle, and then turned serious. “I have one more thing to tell you.” He paused. “I just got word from the detectives. They think they’ve caught the guy. The killer. He was lurking around Finn’s place when they found him.”
“Seriously? Who? Who is this crazy person? Your former manager?”
“Strange enough, the police have known about him for quite some time. A hired gun, like I believed in the beginning. And he carried the same kind of weapon that killed Finn and Drake. Plus, someone thinks they spotted him in the vicinity when Mitchell was shot. The detective claims he’s lawyered up, so there’s no confession yet or who is behind hiring him, although I’m betting on Dugan, especially since word on the street is, he’s been spotted hanging around the same area.”
“I heard Shane mention it on our trip here.”
“Can’t get anything past you.” He grinned. “The Dugan sighting could just be a rumor. Still, the man from homicide seems certain the man they caught is our guy.”
Darla’s lifted her palms to her cheeks. “This is great news. Have you contacted Blaine?”
He nodded. “Yeah, he and Stephanie are having a good time. They’re not returning to California for a while. The police don’t need him, because he didn’t witness anything. But they do want me to look at the suspect and possibly identify him. Maybe viewing him in person will jog a memory.”