Born To Be Wild (8 page)

Wasn’t that the truth? Isabel clearly remembered the incident that had finished whatever relationship Micah’d had with Bobby. And wondered if that could possibly be what had started the chain of events that took away her daughter, so many years later…

…

Isabel’s stomach fluttered as Micah helped her out of his pickup truck in the parking lot of the Coyote Lounge, a local hangout place sans alcohol and drugs for kids under twenty-one.

Tonight a live band was playing, as it did every weekend, and Micah had said he wanted to hold her in his arms and dance with her out in the open. In front of everyone.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” she asked when several kids who knew about the decades-old feud between the Wilds and the Falcons gave them a surprised look.

“You’re my girl. I don’t want to hide our relationship anymore. I want everyone to see us together.”

Everyone would. That was the problem. It was only a matter of time before someone told her father. Then she would have to face Poppi as bravely as Micah had faced his father. Only, she didn’t feel so brave.

But she could put up a front for Micah because she loved him. She smiled at him and took his arm as they entered the lounge where the band was already playing. He took her straight to the dance floor, where she felt as if all eyes were on them.

No doubt her own paranoia.

The sense of self faded when Micah took her in his arms and they moved together to a slow number, their bodies gently undulating against each other, reminding her of the night they’d made love under the starry sky. She felt the same as she had that night—joyful and filled with hope for their future, so filled with love for Micah that she couldn’t think of anything but being together.

Halfway through the second song, Micah straightened and moved away from her, and Isabel saw Bobby and his brother, Hank, standing behind him. Bobby was grinning and Hank was snorting and trying to keep his balance.

Hank was drunk, Isabel thought as Bobby said, “Cutting in.”

Micah gave him a dark look in response. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, come on, man. You have the best-looking girl here. Give a guy a break. It’s just a dance.”

“Yeah, j-st a dance,” Hank slurred.

Micah looked to her. “Isabel?”

Thinking Bobby was Micah’s friend, and that he wanted his friends to get to know her, she shrugged. “Sure.” She could forgive Bobby that one encounter when he’d threatened her at Suicide Hill months before. Probably he’d been drinking and hadn’t meant it anyway. He wasn’t drunk now, even if his brother was.

Still, when Bobby took her in his arms and tried to hold her too close, she grew uncomfortable and pulled away a little.

“Hey, come back here, Isabel.” He jerked her hard against him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped.

“Giving you what you like.” He ground his groin into her in time to the music. “I just want a little of what you’re giving Micah. Friends share good things.”

Pushing at his chest hard until he loosened his grip, she said, “You’re not much of a friend if you’re trying to make time with your buddy’s girl.”

“What? You think a Wild is serious about a Falcon? Get real, honey. He’s just taking what you’re offering until something better comes along. I, on the other hand, have no such prejudice against your family.”

She struggled with him, and when he wouldn’t release her, she shoved her knee where it would hurt the most. But he saw it coming. He let go and sidestepped her, so her knee glanced off his thigh.

“Bitch!”

Isabel hauled off and punched him in the gut hard enough for him to jerk back with a loud “Oof!” The crowd around them let out a collective gasp. Some guys made catcalls.

“When it comes to girls, Bobby’s opinion of himself is a little overinflated,” someone said.

“Part of him is overinflated right now,” another snickered.

Bobby’s face grew mottled with anger, but before he could make a move, or hit her back, Micah was there.

“Don’t ever touch my girl again, Bobby!” he growled, getting right in his friend’s face.

“Hey, you can’t tell my brother wha-what t’ do!” Hank said, tripping over his own feet.

Bobby lunged at Micah.

And ran straight into Micah’s fist.

…

The ensuing bloody fight ended whatever friendly feelings had remained between Micah and Bobby, Isabel remembered. It still angered her when she thought about how, out of spite, Bobby had told Cruz about her and Micah. He’d known full well that her hotheaded brother would go straight to tell their father, and hadn’t given a damn about the consequences.

Poppi had threatened to lock her in her room until she got some sense and promised to give up seeing Micah. Isabel had threatened right back, swearing to find a way out of the house and never return if he dared to try and make her give up the boy she loved.

The feud between families had turned inward, and had caused the first of many wounds in her relationship with her father.

Filled with so many regrets that they pressed on her chest like a vise, she closed her eyes for a brief moment.

Then she gathered herself together and said, “Bobby is the first suggestion that makes sense. You know he hates both of us, and now has a reason to hate Lucy. He can get even with all three of us by doing this.”

His expression grim, Micah nodded. “I’d say that’s enough reason to check him out.”

In the end, though everyone promised to do the same with the people who might hold grudges against them, Isabel believed the only real suspect they had was Bobby Soto.

Chapter Eight

Micah had never been the best of friends with Bobby Soto, and the incident at the Coyote Lounge had put an end to it. He’d changed by then, anyway. All Isabel’s doing. He gave her credit for making him grow up, for challenging him to be a better man. Bobby had pretty much ruined his life engaging in criminal activity. He’d served some time in prison, but not nearly enough, in Micah’s opinion. Someday, his bad choices would catch up to him.

Micah glanced at Isabel, sitting in the passenger seat of his truck radiating anxiety as they shot down the highway toward Santa Fe. Her expression was part hopeful, part just plain scared.

“We don’t know Bobby has her, Isabel.”

“We don’t know that he doesn’t.” She gave him a stricken look. “You don’t think he’ll tell us, do you?”

“If he’s involved, I’ll get it out of him.”

Not that he knew how, exactly. He might be bigger and stronger than Bobby, but Bobby was a snake, ready to strike when you least expected it. Plus, Micah knew the bastard walked around armed.

The family meeting had broken up a short while ago, and everyone had gone off to confront their possible enemies, to decide whether or not the person had been involved in Lucy’s kidnapping. They’d all agreed to meet back at the Gecko later to report in. Micah didn’t think any of the others would learn a thing. He feared—and hoped—that he and Isabel would.

“Maybe we should have called Detective Ochoa,” Isabel said, her tone strained with worry. “Let the police handle Bobby.”

“Ochoa wouldn’t get anything out of him, even if there’s something to get. Cops have rules to follow. And Bobby hates cops.”

“Bobby hates us,” she reminded him.

“It’s been twelve years.”

“You really think he’s changed? Look at his younger brother. Bobby started Hank drinking beer when he was only fourteen. Now he’s twenty-six and not only did the drink ruin his life, but also the lives of three innocent families.”

Hopefully not four
, Micah thought. He hoped to God his daughter wasn’t collateral damage.

“If Bobby has something over us, he’ll want to taunt us with it,” Micah said. “You remember how he was.”

“I remember he was dangerous. Still is. Micah…please be careful.”

“That goes for you, as well.”

She could be one tough cookie when she was riled. He hadn’t forgotten that she’d pulled a knife on Bobby at Suicide Hill that time. Or that she’d punched him in the gut at the Coyote Lounge. He worried she might go off on Bobby and get hurt. He couldn’t let that happen.

Wouldn’t
let that happen.

He wished he’d come alone. That he’d left her in the care of her family where she would be safe.

Suddenly he realized that Soto Used Cars was just ahead. He got an idea. Bobby wouldn’t try anything in public. Not at his own business.

And if he did…Micah had Ochoa on speed dial.

Bobby and Hank had left their family ranch several years before to open a used-car lot on the highway from Soledad to Santa Fe. They’d always been interested in tricked-out cars like the lowrider Hank had been driving when he’d caused the bus accident. Lowriders were part of the Chicano culture in this part of the Southwest. Micah noted a few on the lot. Their exteriors had custom paint jobs, with several thin layers of different colors, and they were all decorated with hand-painted graphics, each one unique. The specially installed hydraulic suspensions allowed drivers to instantly drop the chassis from a normal height down to nearly touching the ground. The lifts could also make their cars “jump,” abruptly dipping and raising the front or rear of the vehicle, or make them jiggle and sway. It was a kind of art form, making your car dance. In the right place and time.

According to Lucy, Hank had been showing off his lowrider tricks when he’d swerved in front of the bus. Irresponsible little bastard.

Micah had once wanted to own a lowrider, but that was before he’d met Isabel. She’d been enough to keep him interested in her, instead. And he liked her tricks a lot better.

He pulled into the lot behind a lowrider with a pueblo painted on the hood and fenders. He and Isabel jumped from the truck.

An older man wearing shiny new cowboy boots, a fringed suede vest, and a very large white Stetson stepped out of the office to greet them. “Art Grant at your service. Can I help you folks? A car for the little lady?”

“The little lady already has a car,” Isabel said with a big, friendly smile.

Micah said, “We’re here to see Bobby Soto.”

“Good luck with that,” Art said. “Hasn’t been around much the last few weeks.”

Since the accident?
“Has he been here at all?”

The salesman’s shake of the head and his, “Not in the last few days,” sent a chill down Micah’s spine.

“We’re old friends,” Isabel lied. “We thought he could use support about now, with his brother in so much trouble.”

“Yeah, well, that’s none of my business. You’ll have to take it up with Bobby yourselves.”

“That’s what we aim to do—”

Isabel interrupted Micah. “We just need to find him first. You wouldn’t be able to help us with that, would you?”

Micah swore she batted her lashes at the old guy. It worked, too.

Smiling, Art said, “You might catch him at home. More ’n likely he’s been keeping both eyes on that girlfriend of his, one of them dancers at the High Desert Gentlemen’s Club.”

“Which dancer would that be?” Micah asked.

“Sunny something,” the man grumbled, frowning at him. “Don’t got a last name.”

Isabel said, “Hmm, I don’t think I’ve heard of a High Desert Gentleman’s Club in Santa Fe.”

“That’s because it’s just off the highway on the road up to Española. A few miles past Pojoaque, you’ll see big signs advertising it.”

“Thank you,” Isabel said with a bone-melting smile. “You’ve been a big help, Art.”

The salesman beamed at her as they walked back to the pickup.

Micah started the engine and drove out of the lot. “We’re heading back toward Soledad. I can drop you off at your family’s ranch.”

“So I can borrow a vehicle and follow you?”

“You’d be better off staying put.”

“You’d be better off not trying to make me.”

Micah thought about arguing that a gentleman’s club was no place for a lady, but he figured he wasn’t going to get far with that one. Isabel had already been to a strip club for her photography work, as she’d told them at the meeting. He doubted she would be shocked. What worried him was that she would get herself in trouble. That seemed to be a given when she and Bobby locked horns. And he had no doubt that would happen the moment she saw her old adversary.

He wondered if she still carried the knife in case she ran into snakes…

Trying to get his mind off worst-case scenarios, he said, “You certainly impressed Bobby’s salesman. I don’t recall you being so into old coots.”

She gave him a withering glance. “At a photo shoot, I get a lot more cooperation from my subjects with a smile than with a demand.”

Micah chuckled, wishing he could watch her on a shoot. She would be something to see. Poetry in motion.

“Which do you like better? News photography or the artsy stuff?”

“I like them both for different reasons. Even though I freelance, the newspaper work keeps me pretty busy. Not only does it give me a sense of purpose, it pays for the groceries. But the artsy stuff feeds my soul.”

Micah was glad she’d been able to develop her hobby into a satisfying career. Not everyone ended up that happy with what they did with their life. His brother, Seth, was itching to get away from ranching for good, but his schemes—because basically that’s what they were—never got him far.

“I hear you have a show coming up in Santa Fe,” Micah said.

“At one of the galleries just off the Plaza.”

“I’d like to see it. With you.”

When Isabel didn’t respond, Micah gave her a quick glance. Her expression was blank. Which didn’t tell him anything. Not directly. But he gathered she didn’t feel the same way about showing him her work.

Eyes on the road, he tried again. “Maybe I should have said with you and Lucy.”

Still no answer.

She might be acting like there was nothing between them but there was, whether she wanted to admit it or not. He figured she just didn’t
want
there to be anything. No surprise there. She’d walked away in the past from him and their future together. No one had to hit him over the head to see the handwriting on the wall for the present.

Still, he wasn’t going to let it drop. “I just thought that once we have Lucy back, we should try to show her a different side of us. The side that gets along and works toward a common goal.”

“Something to consider.”

“She shouldn’t think we hate each other.”

“She doesn’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“She asked me once.”

Surprised, Micah asked, “What did you tell her?”

“That sometimes love just isn’t enough to make a relationship work.”

He’d known that all along, of course. Not that he wanted to accept it. Part of him had always believed if two people loved each other enough, they could make anything work.

Which was why, twelve years ago, he’d come to the conclusion that the feelings eating him up inside after she’d left were all one-sided—his side. She couldn’t possibly have loved him as much as he loved her and have turned her back on him like that. “Maybe you just didn’t love me enough, Isabel.”

Her silence made him tighten his grip on the steering wheel until his fingers nearly locked in agony.

He’d suspected that all along.

He just hadn’t wanted to accept that, either

…

Isabel had only been to one gentlemen’s club in her life—when the
Santa Fe Courier
was doing the story on the girls getting beaten up. Well, that had been a strip club, really. A cheap version of this place, with nex
t-to-naked dancers doing their thing on the bar, slithering around a pole and acting like they were having sex with it mere inches from the customers.

High Desert Gentlemen’s Club, on the other hand, was new and fancy and had a real stage. A row of chairs lined the edge of the ramp coming into the audience, but most patrons sat at tables. Instead of pole dances, they were treated to more intimate lap dances. For some big tips, Isabel expected.

She and Micah had stopped in the bar area. Oddly enough, he was paying the dancers no mind. He was looking around as if for something—or someone—else.

“Wait here a minute,” he told her, and approached a man in a tuxedo.

The guy was built like a truck. No doubt part of the security detail.

She turned her attention back to the audience, searching for a man with dark hair slicked back into a ponytail. Last time she’d seen him, Bobby still wore his hair the same way he always had. For a moment she thought she’d spotted him, but then the guy turned her way and she saw his face. Disappointed, she glanced around to see what Micah was doing. Suddenly, she realized money was changing hands—from him to the tuxedoed security guy.

Micah moved back and murmured, “C’mon,” directly into her ear. “He’s taking us to meet Sunny Day.”

They followed the guard to the rear of the club and around backstage. The guard took them through a side door that led to the dressing room. Several women in provocative costumes were just leaving.

“Wait here while I check with Sunny to make sure she’s up to company,” the security guard said before entering the dressing room. Barely a minute later, he was back in the hall.

“She agreed to talk to you while she’s getting ready for her act.” He indicated they should go in and to the right.

Isabel led the way, Micah directly behind her.

Only one woman was sitting at the long table loaded with makeup and hair products. She was leaning into the mirror, brushing her cheeks with a bronzer. Sunny Day looked like her name, blond and well-tanned, wearing a sequined yellow costume that covered the intimate parts of her body and not much else. She glanced at them, her too-turquoise-to-be-real eyes ringed with smudged black pencil and thick, fake lashes, which she fluttered at Micah after doing a double-take. She looked barely legal. Didn’t you have to be twenty-one to work in these places?

“What can I do for you, handsome?”

She totally ignored Isabel, who took her cue to remain silent for the moment.

“I’m looking for an old friend and was told you can help me find him.”

“Old friend? Now who would that be?”

“Bobby Soto.”

Sunny laughed. “Bobby’s no one’s friend. The prick!”

“I thought he was your boyfriend,” Micah said.

“Not any more, he ain’t.” She flicked a glance at Isabel, then picked up a hair clip and raised her arms high, which lifted her breasts so they looked ready to pop out of her top. Fastening the clip so her hair swept over one shoulder, she eyed Micah in the mirror. “Want to apply for the job?”

“I was never good mending broken hearts.”

Isabel flushed when he looked her way.

“What broken heart?” Sunny asked. “The bastard threw me over for someone younger. A
lot
younger. He’s probably holed up at his place getting it on with her.”

“How young?” Isabel’s voice caught on the last word.

“He didn’t tell me he was interested in anyone else,” Micah said as if he’d been talking to Bobby about her. “How new?”

“Real new.” Sunny swiped her lips with gloss. “After seeing the little chickie, he said he had to have her.”

“When was that?”

“A few days ago.” Sunny made a sound of dismissal. “I haven’t seen him since. And good riddance to bad rubbish. Almost got me fired a coupla times. Like I need that in my life!”

Isabel asked, “Do you know her name? The girl?” When Sunny glowered at her, Isabel added, “Please, this could be important.”

The dancer eyed them both with suspicion. “You ain’t cops…?”

“No! I’m a photographer and he’s a rancher.”

Sunny looked at Micah with renewed appreciation. “Always did have a soft spot for a man on a horse.” She sighed and gave up the pseudo-seduction when he didn’t react. “All I know is this girl has gotta be jailbait if she’s younger than me.”