Page 1 of Stilettos & Whiskey
Prologue
I became a member of the Stone family when I was eight years old. How? My parents died in a house fire, and I was sent to Arizona to live with my grandfather, Raul Garza. He worked as a night watchman at the Sunshine Orchards’ warehouse and railyards. Papa Garza was an alcoholic who lived in a dilapidated single-wide trailer situated on a narrow strip of land between the orange groves and the railyard. I quickly found out he had no interest in dealing with a traumatized kid.
Papa Garza pushed me out the trailer door. “Go to school.”
“It’s June. There is no school.”
He waved a whiskey bottle around. “Whatever. I need to sleep, and I can’t do that with you hanging around making noise. Go to the mall or something.”
“What mall?”
Papa Garza pointed at the roadway. “It’s about ten miles that way.” He shut and locked the door.
“I don’t have any money and it’s hot out here.”
“Not my problem. Git and don’t come back until dark.”
I stared at the door in disbelief. “Dark? I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”
“If you’re not gone in five minutes, I’m taking my belt to you.”
Desperation and fear welled up in me. I didn’t know what to do. All my friends were in Albuquerque, and I didn’t have a phone to call for help.
“Git!” The anger in Papa Garza’s voice had me stumbling down the rickety stairs. Which way did I go? I didn’t see any houses, just the orange groves, and fields of roses. Heat waves danced over the empty asphalt road. Where was everyone? It was like I was the only person left alive, except for my jerky grandfather.
Papa Garza banged on the window. “I said git!”
I ran down the road until I couldn’t run anymore. Sweat rolled down my body and my stomach rumbled hungrily. All I wanted was something to eat and drink. The first house I came to, I was going to ask to borrow their phone. If Papa Garza didn’t want me, I needed to find a new home.
A silver truck pulled up next to me and a big man with black hair rolled the window down. “Where are you going, peanut?”
“To find a new family.”
“What happened to your last family?”
I burst into tears. “They burned up. I tried to save them, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t.” I fell to the ground and sobbed. “I couldn't.”
“Holy hell!” Jumping out of his truck, the big man picked me up and cuddled me against his chest. “I’m sorry you lost your family, but it wasn’t your fault. You know that don’t you, peanut?”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Was my fault. It was. The handle was so hot. I couldn’t open the door to let them out.”
He rubbed my back. “Sssh. It’s okay. It’s okay.” The big man put me in the truck. “Let’s get you cooled down.”
I scuttled away from him. “I’m not supposed to get in a stranger’s car, and you have a gun.”
The big man pulled out his wallet and showed me his police ID. “I’m Captain Alexander Stone and police officers help little girls find their families.”
“My daddy was a police officer too, but he was a lieutenant,” I said proudly.
“What’s your name?”
“Julie Garza. Do you know someone who would want me? Papa Garza doesn’t.”
A muscle twitched in Captain Stone’s jaw as he handed me a bottle of water. “Drink all of it, peanut.”
“Yes, sir.”
He had a funny look on his face as he watched me guzzle down the water. “You’ve been staying with Papa Garza?”
