That was odd. Dena gave in quicker than he expected. Maybe she was just exhausted. “Unless, of course, there’s something you need to tell me.”
She frowned. “Like what?”
“Like maybe you’re pregnant. They always faint in the movies when—”
“Oh, for sure.” Dena burst out laughing. “Yeah, that’s it. Hah. It’s been so long—” She narrowed her eyes and wagged a finger. “Sneaky, very sneaky, Mr. Cabrera. Good way to get a little sexual history.” She gave him a backhanded hit to the forearm.
Zeke laughed, happy that she seemed to have recovered enough to tease him. “I wasn’t. Seriously though, I’m worried.”
“Don’t be. It’s nothing. My reaction to stress, I suppose.”
Manny came in with a fruit punch flavored electrolyte drink and a glass. Zeke grabbed the bottle and poured. Dena propped herself up on the pillows and smiled weakly at Manny, then took a few sips. “Can you wait until tomorrow to discuss your job?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
“Just show up about nine and we’ll take it from there,” Dena said. “The rate will be twelve dollars an hour. I’ll need at least eight hours a day.”
“No problem.” Manny grinned, and hitched his baggy shorts up. “Okay with you, Zeke?”
“Absolutely, I’ll talk to Rocky about it. We’ll find other help for the fields.”
“Thank you. This is…fantastic,” Manny said. Irma came and stood beside him in the doorway. “I got the job, Mama.” Irma said something in Spanish. She held his face in her hands and kissed his forehead, then both cheeks. She turned and smiled at Dena.
“Okay, you two, out of here,” Zeke said. “Manny, take your mom home. We’ll see you tomorrow, and don’t worry about Dena.”
Zeke turned, watched them leave. Rocky, as far as he knew, had never called himself Robert, or Bobby. Roberto’s Rocks was just a little play on words for advertising purposes. But something about that conversation had affected Dena in a strange way. He leaned close to Dena’s ear. “I’ll turn off the fireplace, and lock up the big house, and then I’ll come back.”
She nodded, eyes closed. “Good idea.”
He eased back, steeled his gaze and his voice. “Then I’ll lock us in, and you will tell me exactly what’s going on.”
Her eyes shot open, then she blinked hard, pulled up the covers and closed her eyes tight.
Chapter Eleven
Dena awoke in the casita the next morning, stretched out in the bed, and smiled. This was the third bed she’d slept in since she’d come to the desert, and definitely the best. She lay still and listened, wondering if Zeke had stayed for the whole night.
If so, where had he slept? There was no couch.
They’d talked for an hour about his mother, the church, and the necklace. She’d told him of Carli’s mention of a guy named Bobby. “Coincidence,” he’d said, “make nothing of it. Every second Latino in the district is named Roberto.” She wondered about that now. Being a P.I. was harder work than she’d ever imagined. Maybe she’d have to stick to public relations work. Every time she came close to uncovering a clue, nothing came of it. Yet, she still felt there were answers, some kind of connection to Carli and this place.
A strong sense of guilt washed over her. Zeke had been so kind and protective last night. Yet, she hadn’t said anything about Carli being her sister. She was still lying to him and she didn’t know why. She trusted him. So why wouldn’t she just fess up?
Dena grabbed a pen and paper and started to list what few clues she’d uncovered. A loud knock sounded on the casita door. Then it repeated. It sounded like the front door would break down. She swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“Hang on,” Zeke called out.
She heard a few muffled comments and imagined him pulling his jeans on. She threw on her silk kimono and tied the belt, wondering what the commotion was all about.
With the door of the bedroom cracked, she could see Rocky’s dark angry face. His eyes swept the inside of the casita, and she ducked behind the bedroom door then took another quick peek through the crack. Deputy Stanton was behind him, in civilian clothes and wearing dark sunglasses. She opened the door a little wider and leaned forward to hear.
“Sorry,” Stanton said. “I need to talk to you, Zeke. This is…off the record…friends, you know…”
“Sure, come in.”
Dena bristled. Yesterday he was the enemy, about to drag Zeke into jail in handcuffs.