Daughters (41 page)

“Just what it says. They sell guns and ammunition.”

“How would you know a gun dealer?”

Marie laughed. “I guess you don’t know everything there is to know about me either, young lady.”

Rachael raced through the door and headed toward the back of the store before Marie could say anything to Barry.

He flashed her his slow, sweet smile. “What was that?” he asked.

“That was Rachael. I hope you don’t mind. She had to go
really
bad, and we were in the neighborhood. How are you, Barry?”

“No complaints here. How have you been?”

“Busy. But good. You remember my friend Karen?”

“Of course. Nice to see you again. No takers yet on your rifle, by the way.” His gaze quickly went back to Marie. “So have you done any target shooting lately?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ve been busy with...” She glanced toward the back of the store. “Who’s she talking to back there?”

“Olivia is in the back room. But she doesn’t speak any English.”

“Olivia?”

He gave her an uneasy look. “Long story. Don’t ask.”

A small, wide-eyed little girl peeked out from the doorway, her long black unkempt hair covering much of her heart-shaped face, her dress dirty and worn. Marie cocked her head and looked back at Barry.

“Every once in awhile I watch her for a couple of hours while her…well, I’m not sure who she is, runs errands or something.” He glanced at his watch. “She should have been back by now.”

The girl stayed in the doorway of the back room while Rachael approached the front of the store.

“That’s Olivia,” Rachael said.

“Yes, we know,” Marie responded. “Were you talking with her?”

“Yeah. But she’s pretty shy. I couldn’t get her to say much.”

“Well, she doesn’t speak any English.”

Rachael rolled her eyes. “I know a Mexican when I see one. I spoke Spanish with her.”

“You can speak Spanish?”

“Sure.” Rachael answered with a shrug, as if to ask, “Doesn’t everybody?”

Marie let out a sigh. “Okay, one more thing I didn’t know. Are we ready?” She turned to Barry. “Thanks for the use of your facilities.”

“Anytime.” He shifted his weight and smiled. “And don’t be such a stranger,” he said as they left his store.

“Hey, look at this,” Rachael said. She stood halfway behind a bush next to the building and pointed to an open beat-up duffle bag. A stuffed teddy bear stuck out of the top. She reached down to pick up the bear.

“No, don’t touch it!” Marie blurted. “Let me get Barry.”

Barry came out and stared at the bag. He bent down, picked up the bear, and handled it as if it were a live hand grenade.

“Osito!” Olivia ran up to Barry and grabbed the bear from his hands.

He glanced at Marie, then Karen, then Rachael, his eyes wide. “Can you ask her if that’s her toy?” he asked Rachael.

“
¿Es tu juguete?
” she asked Olivia.

Olivia hugged the bear and nodded. Barry peered over the duffle bag and then bent down and gingerly picked out a piece of clothing. “Ask her if this is her dress.”

“¿Es tu vestido?
”

The girl nodded. Barry’s jaw dropped. He picked up the bag and stared at Marie. “Can you come in for a minute?”

Marie followed him into the store and then turned around to face Karen. “Will you be okay out here for a few minutes?”

“Sure,” Karen said. “We’ll be fine.”

“What’s going on, Barry?” Marie asked.

“This woman usually comes back to get her in two hours or less.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s been over three.”

“Do you think she’s not going to come back this time?”

He took out the contents of the duffle bag and laid them on the counter: two pairs of pants, two tops, pajamas, a pair of shoes and socks, several pairs of underpants, and the dress. “What do
you
think?”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” He looked up at Marie with total panic on his face. “What am I supposed to do with her?”

“Do you know how to reach this woman?”

He shook his head. “I don’t even know her name. She’d talk to me, but I never understood a word she said.”

“Do you know any relatives?”

“No.”

“Do you know her last name?”

“The woman’s, no. But Olivia’s father’s name was Flores.”

“Was?”

“Yes. He’s dead.”

“Well, you’ll have to call the police. I would…”

“
¡Ningún policía!
”

Everyone’s attention shifted toward Olivia, who was running toward Barry. She grabbed his leg and held on tight. The look on his face begged for help.

“She said no police,” Rachael interjected.

Barry let out an audible sigh. “She’s had her share of police in her short life.” He allowed Olivia to keep hold of his leg. He patted her head and said, “You’ll be safe with us, Olivia.”

Marie got more curious by the minute as to what had brought this little girl and Barry together, but refrained from asking any questions for the time being.

“Rachael, can you take Olivia to the back room and keep her occupied while we figure this out?” Barry asked. Rachael did as she was told.

“Barry, I know you said it was a long story, but maybe we could help you through this better if we knew how you’ve come to know Olivia.”

He took in a deep breath. “About two months ago, I was sleeping in the back room. Sometimes if I’m here late, and I don’t feel like driving home, I go out to eat and come back here for the night. Anyway, I was asleep when I heard a noise, like someone was trying to break in. I grabbed a gun and hid behind the door to the back room, and it was light enough—there may have been a full moon that night, I don’t know. Anyway, there was enough light for me to see this guy break in the door and head for the gun cases. So I yelled, ‘Stop or I’ll shoot,’ and this guy pulled a gun on me.” He gulped. “I shot it out of his hand before he could pull the trigger.”

Karen gasped.

“Oh my God. How awful,” Marie exclaimed.

“Tell me about it. The guy yelped and hightailed it out of my store. I called the police and then ran out to see if I could see where he went, but he was gone. Left his car behind.”

“That seems odd, don’t you think?”

“Well, there was blood splattered all over my front window, so I suspected then his hand got shattered pretty good and so maybe he couldn’t drive. And I found out later his hand
did
get mangled because they found his body down by the railroad tracks.”

“His body?”

“Turns out he was in this country illegally, with a criminal record, and the police suspected he tried to hop a train before they caught up with him.”

“And what? He was run over by the train?”

“They think he missed the train and…well, it wasn’t pretty.”

“How awful.”

“Anyway, back to the night of the break-in. The police took my statement and left, and I was going to pour me a healthy glass of bourbon—and I haven’t had a drink in over ten years, so you know the state of mind I was in—when one of the policemen came back in my shop and told me when they searched this guy’s car, they found a little girl. Olivia.”

“What?”

“They suspected this guy I shot was her father, and she was in the back seat waiting for him.”

“Good grief!” Karen said. “So what happened to her?”

“They took her with them…crying all the way to their car. It was horrible, but what could I do?”

Marie could tell by the compassionate way Barry told the story that he had been deeply disturbed by the whole ordeal.

“To make a long story even longer, two weeks later, this woman comes in my store with Olivia, says something to me in broken English that I didn’t understand, and then leaves. So here I am with this…how old would you say Olivia is? Four, five maybe?” Marie and Karen shrugged. “This little girl who doesn’t speak a word of English, and I don’t know if this woman’s coming back or not.”

“Barry…that poor child. So what did you do?”

“I had shot the girl’s father. The least I could do was wait to see if the woman was coming back for her. So I showed Olivia the back room, ‘cause I had customers coming in and out, and she stayed back there the whole time.”

“So the woman came back?”

“Yep. Two hours later. She said
gracias
and left.”

“Unbelievable.”

“And she did that a few more times…until today.”

Karen had tears in her eyes. “I’m going to check on them. I’ll be right back.”

“Well, you have to call the authorities, Barry. What else can you do?” Marie paused. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“By any chance, do you remember when I gave you all those free shooting lessons, you said if there was any way you could repay me…?”

“Okay, what are you thinking?”

“Can you just stay here until we get this resolved? I’m in way over my head here.”

She gave him a friendly smile. “Of course.”

They called the police and requested a meeting away from the gun shop. Marie accompanied Barry to a nearby coffee house where they met up with Sergeant Farber. He brought along Spanish-speaking social worker, Pilar Hierra. Barry explained the situation.

Miss Hierra spoke first. “The only Spanish-speaking orphanage I know of is in Topeka. I’m willing to take her for the night, and then I can drive her there tomorrow.”

“An orphanage?”

“That’s about all I can do for now. I need time to see if I can locate the woman who dropped her off or some family member or something.”

“And what if you can’t find anyone? Will someone adopt her? Some other family? A good family?” Marie asked.

“Maybe. But I can tell you, it’s hard to adopt out Mexican children.”

We can’t let this happen, Marie thought. Barry, Miss Hierra, and the policeman got up to leave. “Wait,” she said. All eyes were on Marie. “We can’t send this little girl to an orphanage. She’ll be scared to death. Look what’s happened to her so far.”

“I don’t see any other way,” the social worker said. “We don’t know where she belongs.”

“She can stay with us.” The words came out faster than her mind could reconcile what she was saying. “Until you can find her family.”

No one sat back down. Marie stayed put. “We have the room, and I have a daughter who speaks Spanish.”
Daughter?
“Would there be anything wrong with that?”

Miss Hierra raised an eyebrow. “It would be highly unusual.”

“I have found, Miss Hierra, that sometimes you have to take unusual measures to do what needs to be done.”

Miss Hierra turned toward Barry. “What do you have to say about this?”

“Me?”

She gave him a puzzled look. “You’re the husband, aren’t you?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not the husband. But I am a very close family friend, and I’ll be here to help out any way I can.” He put his hand over Marie’s and gave it a squeeze.

“My daughter is also very responsible,” Marie said. “She’s fifteen and good with children.”

“So where’s your husband?”

“I’m divorced, Miss Hierra.”

Barry shot her a surprised look.

“A divorcee?” The look on Miss Hierra’s face was nothing short of dubious.

“A divorcee with a college degree who owns her own business in Atchison and is a pillar in her community, I might add,” Barry blurted.

The social worker shot him a disparaging look. “I assumed you were married,” she said to Marie.

“No, I am not.”

Hierra peered over her glasses and down her broad nose at Marie. “So who all lives with you?”

“It’s just Rachael and me.”

“And Rachael is your daughter?”

“She’s my surrogate daughter.”

“And what exactly does that mean?”

“Her father was killed in April, and I took her in.”

Marie didn’t know how to interpret Hierra’s frown. “Okay, for one night, and I’ll come visit you tomorrow to inspect your house to make sure it’s suitable. We can take it from there. Maybe I can get a temporary custody order or something until we find her family.”

Marie got up and shook her hand. “Thank you. We’ll take very good care of her. I promise you that.”

Barry took her elbow as they walked toward his truck. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” She glanced up at him. “What have I just done?”

“The right thing, darlin’. You did the right thing. And Marie?”

“Yes?”

“I meant what I said in there. I’m responsible for all this, and trust me, I will do whatever I need to do to help.” Marie knew by his expression he was being sincere.

Rachael kept Olivia occupied in the back seat on their drive home. Rachael’s Spanish seemed to be fluent enough to keep a good conversation going. After they got Olivia settled in Rachael’s bed for the night, Marie asked Rachael how she learned Spanish.

“We lived in a Mexican neighborhood once for awhile. It wasn’t hard to pick up from the other kids. I had to if I wanted to play with them.”

CHAPTER 27

Daughters

The social worker arrived at ten the next morning, giving Marie barely enough time to discuss her situation with Julia. Fortunately, with three children of her own, Julia was completely understanding. She and Marie carried a rollaway bed Julia had in her basement up to Rachael’s room and threw a blanket and pillow on it, Olivia’s teddy bear perched high on the pillow being the final touch.