First Grave On The Right Part 28

"So, you've been in this warehouse for two years?"

He choked on a bite and took a gulp of milk. "No. You have to understand, Father Federico is a take-charge kind of guy. When the cops couldn't help, he took matters into his own hands. He started a watch, a search-and-rescue team, and an underground railroad of sorts."

I bit back my surprise and waited for Teddy to continue.

After popping the last piece into his mouth, he said, "We have all kinds of guys working this thing. Me? My end is Panama."

"Panama?" I asked, taken completely by surprise. This thing was way bigger than I thought. Than anybody thought.

"Yeah. We got shipping records, invoices, and even buyers' addresses. They're freaking everywhere. But Price was constantly on the lookout for me, so Father Federico made sure I stayed hidden."

"So Carlos Rivera worked for Father Federico?"

"Not at first. He was a scout. The scout. The one who tried to pick up James. I guess when James got killed, Carlos decided he'd had enough. He went to the Father, and they worked out a deal. Father Federico can be very persuasive when he wants to be. How 'bout that coffee?"

Right. I couldn't help but wonder why Carlos didn't just go to the police. Of course, the big fat target he would have become might have had something to do with his decision. Some people think the police are worse than the criminals. Going to them would be like committing suicide.

"So, you've been in Panama?"

"Yes. I've saved seven kids, in case you're wondering," he said proudly. "Well, I helped save seven kids."

"And you didn't know what was going on with your uncle?"

"Yeah, I knew. Father Federico kept me informed, but we just kept thinking they'd drop the charges on Uncle Mark. I mean, he didn't do anything. I couldn't imagine he'd actually get convicted. We didn't want to risk our operation to save Uncle Mark, but when he got convicted, we didn't have a choice. I still can't believe it. I mean, how did James's blood get on Uncle Mark's shoes?"

"I've already got that one covered," I said. "It had been raining. Your uncle took out the trash that evening and must have stepped in a puddle James's blood had run into. He didn't see him behind the shed, but someone must have seen James stumble over the fence and called the police."

"Of course," he said, taking a long sip of the piping-hot black coffee.

"Are you old enough to take your coffee black?"

He smiled. In that moment, he looked old enough to drink coffee any color he wanted. His eyes had seen too much. His heart had experienced too much fear and grief. He'd probably aged ten years in the last two.

"Why did you come back?" I asked.

"I had to. I couldn't let Uncle Mark go to jail for something he didn't do."

"Even if it meant risking your life?" I asked, pride nudging my heart.

With a shrug, he said, "That's all I've done for two years. I'm tired of running. If Price wants me, he can come and get me."

My chest tightened. No way was I letting that happen. "We have to call the police, you know."

"I know. That's partly why I'm here. Father Federico has disappeared, and we need to hire you."

Chapter Seventeen.

Do not disturb. Already there.

-T-SHIRT Throughout the evening, Reyes nudged me, brushed up against my arm, slid his fingers over my mouth, causing little earthquakes to shimmy through my body. But at the moment, I had a house full of badges. Literally. I'd bet my last nickel even Mr. Wong was feeling claustrophobic, hovering in his corner, his back to the world. Heck, even the police chief and the DA were in my apartment. I totally should have spruced up the place. Put out some candles. Made a cheese ball. Cookie was busy filling cups of coffee, and Amber was busy flirting with a rookie named Dead Meat if he didn't stop flirting back. She was eleven, for heaven's sake! Of course, he may have just been humoring her. And it was a little cute. In a gross, Chester-the-molester kind of way.

Around midchaos, I got a call from Chrystal's cousin.

"Hi, is this Ms. Davidson?" she'd said, her voice iffy.

"That's me. Is this Debra?" I asked, glancing over at Teddy. I was sure he'd freak with all the cops around, but he seemed calm, almost relieved.

"Yeah," the caller said. "Chrystal told me you're looking for Reyes Farrow's sister. I called my friend Emily, and she could only remember his sister's first name as well. It was Kim. She and Reyes had different last names."

Interesting. I wondered if it was Walker, as in Earl Walker.

"That's all we remember about her," she continued. "Except she was really nice."

"Well, that's more than I had yesterday."

"Sorry I can't be of more help. You know, they were really good friends with Amador Sanchez."

"Yes, I keep hearing that." Perhaps this Amador Sanchez was the way to go. He clearly knew them both well. "Hey, what school did you guys go to?"

"Oh, we were at Eisenhower Middle School."

"Okay, I got a Kim at Eisenhower Middle School about twelve years ago, right?"

"Exactly. I hope you find her."

"Thanks so much for calling, Debra."

"Not at all."

Well, that didn't get me anywhere fast. But I had a Kim and an Eisenhower Middle School. Looks like I'd be hanging with Uncle Bob again tomorrow if he'd have me. I wondered if he'd let me drive.

"Oh," Cookie said, sashaying up to me. She'd been flirting as well. "I got an address and a number for your Amador Sanchez."

"Suh-weet." Before going to the school, I'd pay Mr. Sanchez a visit. He could probably tell me the sister's last name and where to find her. Cell mates shared everything. Especially cell mates who'd been friends in their previous lives.

We high-fived, and she went to warm another cup. It was almost eleven, and all the late nights were taking their toll, as were the beatings. While my body throbbed with fatigue, my mind refused to be subdued.

I sat down beside Teddy to make sure he was doing okay. Surprisingly, he took my hand into his. I squeezed. The kid had stolen my heart the moment he walked out of the shadows. I hated when that happened. The DA sat across from us, questioning Teddy, his expression a mixture of interest and worry.

"Can I talk to you?"

Officer Taft stood over me, looking down. I looked past him toward Demon Child. She was doing her best to lure Mr. Wong into a game of hopscotch.

"Not really in the mood, Taft," I said, dismissing him with a frosty shoulder.

"I'm sorry about this morning. You just took me by surprise."

With a glare of distrust, I turned back to him. "If you're going to throw another tantrum, there's really no need to talk."

He set his coffee cup down and squatted beside me. "I promise. No tantrums. Would you just give me a chance to explain?"

He wasn't in uniform, and I was sure he'd come over just to talk to me, having no idea he'd be met by a room full of uniforms. After giving Teddy's hand another quick squeeze, I led Taft into the bedroom, where we could talk in private. Reyes followed. That worried me. I didn't want to have to explain why Taft's spinal cord was severed if he did anything stupid. It would be awkward. I'd probably have to make a statement, and I wasn't good at statements. I was much better at icy glares and smart-a.s.s comebacks.

I plopped onto my bed, leaving Taft no choice but to stand. The only chair in the room was home to several pairs of jeans, a lace camisole, and a pristine pair of government-issue handcuffs. Oh, and pepper spray. A girl's gotta have her some pepper spray. He leaned against my dresser, bracing his hands on either side of his hips.

But Reyes ... Reyes was another story. He must have been growing impatient. He hovered beside me, brushed against my arm, feathered a breath over my ear, ruffling the hair at the nape of my neck. His nearness kick-started my libido. Knowing what the man was capable of, I started to shake. My lack of control where he was concerned was getting ridiculous.

Demon Child strolled in then and stopped short at the door, her eyes as wide as flying saucers as she took note of Reyes. While I couldn't really see him-he was all dark fog and mist-she must have been getting an eyeful. Her jaw dropped, and she stood there, staring at him.

As if suddenly uncomfortable with the audience, Reyes moved to the window, and a chill settled over me with his absence. Demon Child stood stock-still, as if afraid to move. It was funny.

"This morning," Taft said, luring me back to the task at hand, "the girl you described wasn't from the accident scene."

"Duh. Figured that." My att.i.tude didn't seem to faze him.

He lowered his chin, clenched his hands on the dresser. "It was my sister."

d.a.m.n. I should have known this went deeper than just some kid he knew from elementary school.

"She drowned in a lake by my parents' house," he added, his voice strained with sadness.

"He tried to save me," Demon Child said, her eyes still locked on Reyes. "He almost died trying to save me."

Steeling my heart against the daughter of Satan, refusing to notice her tiny arms locked at her sides, her large blue eyes glowing in wonder, her doll-like mouth slightly agape, I leveled my best scowl of disgust on her.

"Gross," I said.

"What?" She finally tore her eyes off Reyes, but only for a split second before relocking onto him as if she had a radar tracking system in her corneas.

"You love him so much?" I asked her, quoting her earlier sentiment. "He's your brother."

"Is she here?" Taft asked.

"Not now, Taft. We have more serious issues to deal with at the moment."

Strawberry's expression morphed into bemus.e.m.e.nt as she finally focused on me. "But I do love him. He tried to save me. He was in the hospital for a week with pneumonia from all the water that got into his lungs."

"I get that," I said, raising a hand as if giving witness in church. I keep forgetting that there are siblings out there who actually love each other. "But he's still your brother. You can't be stalking him like this. It's just wrong."

Her bottom lip quivered. "He doesn't want me around anymore, anyway."

Double d.a.m.n. Concentrating on anything besides the tears gathering between her lashes-taxes, nuclear war, poodles-I asked, "What do you want to do?"

"I want to stay with him." She wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her pajamas, then sat on the floor with her legs crossed. She started drawing circles in the carpet and allowed her eyes to stray to Reyes for only brief moments at a time. "But if he doesn't want me..."

Pulling in a long, tired breath, I said to Taft, "She tells me you tried to save her."

He looked at me in surprise.

"That you spent a week in the hospital afterwards."

"How does she know that?"

"I was there," she said. "The whole time."

I relayed what she was saying to Taft and watched as his expression became more and more astounded with every word.

"She said you hate green Jell-O now, which you've refused to eat since your stay in the hospital."

"She's right," he said.

"Do you want her to go?"

My question threw him. He stumbled over one answer after another before finally saying, "No. I don't want her to go. But I think she'd be happier somewhere else."

"No, I wouldn't!" she yelled, jumping to her feet and scrambling beside him. She grabbed his pant leg as if holding on for dear life.

"She wants to stay, but only if you want her to."

After a moment, I realized Taft was visibly shaking. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Me neither. I wasn't kidding when I said she was evil."

Ignoring me, Taft said, "If she wants to stay, I'd love to have her. But I don't know how to talk to her. How to communicate."

Uh-oh. I could see where this was headed. "Look. I don't do the whole interpreting gig, savvy? Don't even consider coming to me every time you want to know what she's up to."

"I could pay you," he said, sounding a lot like Sussman. "I have money."

"How much we talking?"

After a soft knock on the door, Uncle Bob poked his big head with his burly mustache into the room. "We're heading out," he said.

"What are you doing with Teddy?" I asked, concern leaping into my voice.

"He's going to a safe house with a couple of uniforms. We'll make more permanent arrangements tomorrow."

Taft and I stepped out of my bedroom to a near-empty apartment. The DA took my hand, pumping it hard in enthusiasm. "Ms. Davidson, you have done an outstanding job here today. Outstanding."

"Thank you, sir," I said, choosing not to mention that my outstanding work involved falling through a skylight and making a ham-and-turkey sandwich. "Uncle Bob helped. A little."

The man snorted and headed out the door. After Teddy pulled me into a big bear hug, he followed. The hug felt nice. He would be okay. Well, if Price didn't get to him.