The Jealous Kind (Holland Family Saga 2)

“No, we will not ‘out,’?” Valerie replied. “Your son has serious mental problems. He may have brain damage. Some people say it was you who scarred his face. You should be ashamed of yourself. What kind of example have you set? Look at the men you’re with. They bully women because they’re moral and physical cowards. Don’t look at me. Look at yourselves. What are you? Nothing. Fat men who smell like salami.”

Atlas went to the front and dialed the phone on the receptionist’s desk. “This is Jaime Atlas,” he said into the receiver, looking back at us. “I got some kids causing trouble in my office. Send an officer over here.”

He hung up and came back into the dining room. “Say that again about the firecracker blowing up in Vick’s face.”

“It’s what happened,” I said.

“If you’re lying . . .” he said.

“People in my family don’t lie, Mr. Atlas. You asked who my father is. He went over the top five times in World War One. That’s who he is.”

AS WE DROVE away, I put my arm around Valerie and pulled her against me.

“What are you laughing about?” she said.

“The faces of those guys when you gave it to them.”

“They got off easy. If my father thinks they were hooked up with the guys who poured gasoline in my car, they’ll be dead. That’s no exaggeration, Aaron.”

We were about to turn onto Seawall Boulevard when Cisco Napolitano’s red-and-black Rocket 88, the top down, came around the corner.

“Stop!” Valerie said.

“What for?”

“I want to tell her something.”

“Tell her what?”

“Did you see the way those men looked at me? I want to take a bath. She’s in the middle of all this, but she never has to pay a price. She also has a way of showing up when you’re around. Now stop the car.”

“Take it easy, Valerie.”

“She wants to get her hooks into you. I’m sick of these people.”

I slowed in the middle of the street. So did Cisco. Her shades were pushed up on her head, her face windburned. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

Before I could answer, Valerie leaned across me so she could speak out the window. “We just left the collection of trash you hang out with,” she said. “When we first got here, they were talking about you. I don’t know what they were saying, exactly, but they were laughing. If I were you, I’d find another sandbox.”

“Nice try, honey,” Cisco said.

“Yeah?” Valerie said. “Try this on for size. They said Merton Jenks got in your bread when he was a cop in Nevada. Maybe they just made that up.”

Cisco’s face drained. Valerie shot her the finger and then mouthed the word “you.” I drove away before anything else could happen.

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“Stay away from her, Aaron. I don’t want you around her.” She laid her head back on the seat and shut her eyes. “I love the smell of the Gulf and the sound of the waves crashing on the sand. Do you want to go swimming? Out past the jetty, maybe all the way to the third sandbar?”

“We didn’t bring our swimsuits.”

“We can go to the end of the island. Nobody is there this time of day.”

“Hammerheads and jellyfish are.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “Do you like her?”

“Miss Cisco?”