THE WOMAN who claimed she was the housekeeper stood at the sink and washed the lunch dishes. Did she think he was stupid? He didn’t have a housekeeper; it was just him and Davey and had been for years. If he had anything to do with it, it would be just the two of them again. Starting today.
He’d stared at her all through lunch, hoping she’d get the message she wasn’t wanted or needed. Not in my house. Oh, he’d pretended everything was okay this morning after he came out of his room and found her here. He refused breakfast, turned right around, went back, and didn’t come out until she’d called him for lunch.
His hands had been shaky, but he’d eaten little of his lunch, a tuna salad sandwich and a cup of chicken noodle soup. The building anger had ruined his appetite, and when she’d asked him questions, he’d just grunted at her. By the time lunch was done, his distrust and anger had built in intensity until he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
She dried the last plate and put it away.
“You’re a spic, aren’t you?” He glared at her, determined to drive her away.
Maria whirled around. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me. Spic, right?”
“No. I’m American.” Her voice had that calm, patronizing tone he hated.
“Your parents were wetbacks, right? Swam across the river to get here? Well, just go back to Mexico.” He stood up. “I don’t trust you. I don’t want you in my house.”
“Mr. David hired me. I’m here to help. Why don’t you calm down? I’ll just call him, and we can talk this out.” She gave him a smile, but he merely glared at her.
He took a step toward her, fists clenched. If it came to doing something more to make her go away, he’d do it. He’d had enough and he wanted her out… now.
“Get out!” he shouted and raised his hand.
She backed away. “You need to calm down, Mr. Delaney. Let me call David so you can talk to him.”
He could see the fear in her eyes. Good. She should be afraid.
“Why would I want to talk to him? He’s just a kid. I’m the man of this house. I make the decisions and pay the bills. Me!” He slammed his fist down on the table, and she jumped. “Don’t think I don’t know why you’re here.”
Maria tried to keep him talking. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“To rob me. You and that accomplice of yours are going to pretend you’re my family to wipe out my bank account, steal this house, and then kill me and make it look like I died in my sleep.”
Maria slid down to the end of the counter, avoiding him. She got to the end and then backed out of the kitchen, never turning her back on him. “No, you’re wrong. I’m going to call Mr. David.”
“No, you won’t. Get out,” he barked as he followed her. “Just go, and I won’t call the police and have you arrested.”
“Mr. Delaney, please.” She’d made it to the front hall. She’d left her purse on the small table by the door, and she scooped it up.
“There’s the door. Don’t let it hit you on the ass on your way out.” He chortled, not bothering to hide the hate in his voice. “And don’t either of you ever come back.”
David Delaney Sr. advanced on the interloper, fists ready to strike. He’d never hit a woman, but he could make an exception for a thief.
She opened the door and, purse clutched under her arm, rushed down the steps. Once she reached the driveway, she stopped and turned around to look back at him. He stood in the doorway, gave her a shake of his fist, and then slammed the door shut.
He locked it and leaned against it, out of breath. His entire body shook with rage, and it took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Staring into the living room, he smiled.
He had his house back, and anyone who tried to take it or anything else from him without permission would get what was coming to him.
He’d make damn sure of that.
David Sr. pushed away from the door and headed to his bedroom.
“OH MY God!” Maria’s hands shook as she pulled her cell phone out of her purse.
Mr. Delaney had just looked so crazy and so out of it. She’d had no idea he held such hatred inside, or where he’d gotten the crazy idea about robbing him. For some old people who had Alzheimer’s, buried feelings and thoughts often came to the surface, making them say things and act in ways they never would have done before the illness.
She searched her contact list and found David’s number. She hit Send and held the phone to her ear, praying he would answer. She had to stay here; there was no way she could leave the old man, even if she was on the outside. It was her responsibility to see to his safety.
“David Delaney.”
“Mr. Delaney!” Her voice trembled. “It’s Maria.”
“Maria? What’s wrong?”
“Your father. He’s lost it. He just threw me out of the house. I had to leave. I was afraid if I stayed, he’d become violent.” She leaned over the car hood as she whispered into the phone. No sense in the neighbors knowing the Delaneys’ business.
“What did you say? Violent?”
“Yes. He didn’t recognize me at all today. He was talking as if you were a kid and saying we were going to steal his money. I think you better come home right away.”
“Oh hell, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He exhaled. “Maria, are you all right? Did my father hurt you?”
She heard the worry in his voice, and her heart ached for him. “No, I’m fine. Just come. I’ll wait here until you arrive.”
“Thank you, Maria.” He hung up.
Maria put the phone back in her purse. She looked up at the house, saw the blinds move, and figured Mr. Delaney was watching her. Let him look. He couldn’t do her any harm while she was out here and he was in there.
DAVID DECLARED a family emergency at work and fled to his car. All the way home, he prayed his father would be all right, that Maria wasn’t harmed, and that he’d know what to do when he got there.
He spotted Maria next to her car parked in front of the house and waved to her. The look of relief on her face mirrored what he knew had to be on his. He pulled into the drive, parked, and got out as she met him by his door.
“I’m so glad you got here, David.”
“Thank you for staying. I’ll take care of everything. You go on home.” He patted her on the shoulder.
“Are you sure?” She looked up at him, and he read the pity in her eyes.
“I’m sure. I can handle my dad.” He always had in the past, and now he prayed that Maria was overreacting, despite the fact she’d always been calm and clearheaded.
“All right. Please call me tonight and let me know what happened.”
“I will. You’ll be the first to know.”
She started toward her car, then stopped and turned around. “Should I plan on coming tomorrow?”
“No, I don’t think so. Even if he gets better, I should stay home a day or two, just in case.” He gave her a weak smile and waved her on. She got in her car and drove off.
Looked like the doctor’s visit was a go on Friday. He’d have to accept his father had really slid downhill much faster than he’d thought possible. Travis was right. David needed to make a decision and soon.
David turned to the house. Everything looked so normal. All the blinds looked just as he’d left them, and the front door stood solid and secure, a barrier against the world. Nothing out of place or askew.
Except on the inside. What the hell was going on inside the house with his dad? Time to find out. David strode up the sidewalk, taking out his key. At the front door, he took a deep breath as if he were going underwater, held it, and put the key in the lock.
He opened the door. “Dad?” he called out in a firm, calm voice.
“Who the hell is it now?” His father’s bellow made David jump, and heavy footsteps thudded down the hall. David turned to meet his dad.
“Dad, it’s me, David.” He took a step forward, then froze.
One look at his father’s expression sent fear racing through David’s body. Red-faced, his jaw working as if he were chewing something that didn’t taste good, eyes wide and pupils shot, he looked like a stranger. A pissed off, crazy stranger.
“Dad, are you all right?” David used his patient, quiet voice but he heard the quiver in it.
“Shut up. Don’t call me that. I’m not your father. I have a son, a little boy. Who the hell are you?” His belligerent tone hit David like a slap on the face, and he took a step back.
“I’m David Delaney. Your son. I’m not a kid anymore, Dad.” David tried to reason with him using a calm voice. It was important to stay calm and not get caught up in his father’s anger and fear.
“The hell you are. My son is ten. Ten! Not forty!” He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing and growing cold and distant. “Now, I’m gonna ask one more time—who the hell are you? And I want the truth or else.”
David looked around him. He had to convince his father he was who he claimed to be. On the wall in the living room were pictures. None taken in the last few years, but recent enough.
“Look, Dad. See? Over here? This is my picture.” David started across the room.
“Hold it right there! Not another step.” The tone in his father’s voice sent a chill of fear down David’s spine. He froze. “You’re that fellow who was here this morning. The accomplice of that spic woman pretending to be a housekeeper. I’m onto your game. Turn around slowly with your hands up.”
What the hell? David’s mind flew all around the fear lodged in his gut like a startled bird. His father had lost his mind and become delusional. David turned.
His father held a gun.
“Where did you get the gun?” David’s voice cracked as all the spit in his mouth dried up.
“Don’t worry about that. Just remember I’ve got the gun, not you.” The coldness in his father’s eyes was completely unlike anything David had ever seen before. This man was not his father.
“I see that. What do you plan on doing?” David stood still, afraid to move. Afraid to breathe.
“I’m going to make sure you never come back here again.” He raised the gun.
David threw out his hands in a worthless appeal. “No, Dad. Please be careful.”
“Stop calling me Dad!” he roared. The gun shook in his hand. David couldn’t tell if it was his father’s anger or his fear, but it didn’t matter. Either one could be deadly.
David had never been so scared in his life. In a heartbeat, sweat broke out on his brow, and his chest tightened so hard and fast he struggled for breath. Was this how Travis had felt pinned down behind that safe in the convenience store?
No. Travis had had the safe to stop the bullets. Nothing stood between David and his father, just fifteen feet of open air. David’s gaze careened around the room, searching for a safe place, but… nothing.
“Please. Stop this. Put the gun down and let’s talk,” David croaked. Please, God.
“Scared, huh? You better be, but it won’t do you any good. I’m defending my property. I got a right to do that.” He frowned and pulled the trigger.