"It's okay. It's not your fault." Dori turned to David, who stared at the floor, his jaw clenched. She forced herself to speak. "I understand and I- I'm sorry for wasting your time."
She tried to stand up but her legs wouldn't work.
"I grew up with her," David said. "She wasn't like that when we-" He paused, struggling to finish.
Legally, Dori should get the hell out of here and fast. But she couldn't. She had to let this man say his piece.
"She'd changed by the time you -" He looked away, his lips trembling. "By the time you met her, she wasn't the cousin I knew."
Her throat tied itself into a knot and she nodded her head.
"Her kids are with my aunt and uncle." He cleared his throat. "I did some preliminary work on the research you and Meg are doing-"
"It doesn't matter," Dori said, finding her voice.
"Why not? Isn't this what's important while you're under investigation?" he spat.
Dori held her breath.
He abruptly got to his feet and walked away, quickly disappearing around the corner.
"I'm so sorry about David. I had no idea."
Dori's side pinched as she twisted around to look before backing out of the parking space. "I know. You can stop beating yourself up."
"Still-"
"Don't worry. My job left me with a thick skin," Dori said, threading the car through a tight corner.
She was amazed Meg agreed to get into the car. They hadn't said much when Dori was finally able to stand up and walk out of The US Grant. They finally pulled up to the long line of cars at the exit.
"So can I ask you what happened?" Meg ventured.
"David didn't tell you?"
"Well yes, but I-" Meg shifted in her seat, toying with the seat belt strap over her chest.
Dori squeezed her hands around the steering wheel to keep them from shaking. "Kaylee shot me and I fired back."
Meg nodded. Dori quickly added, "But the bullet hit my vest and pushed it into my side here." She pointed.
"And there were children there?"
Dori looked over at Meg and wished she'd not. Meg's face was twisted with horror and pity. For some reason, it brought back a vivid picture of Kaylee Matthews. She had simply turned around, her face absolutely a cold, stiff mask as she fired a shot at Dori for arresting her and putting her children in the custody of Child Protective Services.
It happened so fast. Dori had been standing there and then her duty weapon was in her hand. She'd fired three rounds, two hitting Kaylee and one the wall behind her. It wasn't until her knees hit the ground that she felt the flare of pain at her side. When she pressed her hand against the warm, sticky wet, she realized she'd been shot.
Dori blinked and she was back in the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel. She then remembered Meg's question.
"I'm under investigation, so technically I can't go into the details," she managed, her throat burning. "But yes, they were there."
Meg took a deep breath as she stared straight ahead. Dori imagined this wasn't what most girlfriends talked about on a girl's day out. The best thing to do now was get them back to her house so they could part ways as quickly as possible.
"Look, I know we'd talked about going to lunch but I understand if you-" Dori's eyes filled with tears, damn it.
"Pull over, Dori," Meg said gently.
Dori did and they sat there as she struggled for control.
"It seems ridiculous to tell you something like I'm sorry about what happened," Meg said after a long silence. "If you'd like to, I'd still like to go to lunch. I'm sure you did what you had to do."
All Dori could do was nod her head.
"We're still on?" A tissue appeared in Dori's line of vision. She took it and wiped her eyes. She looked over at Meg and only saw compassion and someone struggling not to cry, too.
"I know I shouldn't cry but, damn the whole thing," Meg said, reaching into her bag for another tissue.
"I don't know what it is about you but I feel like I've known you much longer than a few days," Meg said.
"How can you say that when on our second meeting you find out I shot someone?"
"Well, I- I don't know!"
They laughed and Dori accepted a second tissue.
"I imagine for all sorts of legal reasons you can't discuss what happened so I'll just say that I'm glad you're here." Meg breathed in deep and then let out a long sigh. "With that, let's go eat."
Dori couldn't agree more. She squinted as they emerged up into the daylight. The sun broke through, and she flipped the visor down before turning right on G Street.
Chapter Nineteen
Dori carried their tea cups to the back stoop. Meg had taken photos while she got an update on the day's work from Oscar.
Before they had lunch, Dori reported the meeting with David to her investigator. He sighed at the end of her explanation.
Her job might hang in the balance but she had to admit that right now, she felt okay. After lunch and some shopping, she and Meg had hung ivory damask sheer curtains in her little office. In the morning, when the sun hit this side of the house, they would diffuse the light.
Gavin's crew was still cleaning up downstairs. When she stepped out into the crisp evening, Dori warmed her hands with the cup of steaming rooibos with rose petals and grape seeds. She found Meg peering down at a pile of broken bricks.
"Tea time," she called out.
"I'm gasping." Meg came over and took the cup. "I think that was the original furnace. It might be worth saving."
"First the foundation and then the roof. The main staircase is also off limits. It might swallow you alive."
Meg sat beside her and they sipped their tea. The yard filled with lavender light. As Dori looked around her, a strange calm made itself comfortable in her chest. It felt enough to sit here, listening to the hollow sound of traffic in the distance.
She sipped her tea, not sure where this feeling had come from or how long it would linger. Maybe she and Meg really had the potential to be good friends. This might be all she needed to be content.
Dori took a deep breath and pulled her arms closer to her sides to keep warm.
"When will you go back to the hotel?" Meg asked.
"Not any time soon."
"Well I can't say that I blame you. Perhaps I can talk with David and he can get the information to me which I can-"
"It's okay," Dori said, even though it wasn't. "I'll try the history museum and maybe they'll have records."
Meg sipped her tea.
Dori then heard her cousin shout, "What do you want us to do with this old stove, Grammy?"
She twisted around to look through her office into the kitchen.
"Hell if I know, boy!" Grammy shouted. "Just get that old piece of crap outta there!"
"Hang on a second," Dori told Meg. Her joints crackled as she stood up. She rubbed her warm fingers together, mentally preparing herself to face her grandmother and cousin.
When she stepped into the kitchen, she found her cousin and some old vato wheeling her stove out the door.
"Hey cuz," Chuy called out.
"Hey Chuy," she greeted, heading straight for Grammy.
"This is your early Christmas present," Grammy said and then held up her hand as Dori opened her mouth to protest. "Chuy got me his employee discount."
"But this is-"
"I know what you're thinking, but I swear on your grampy's name, this time it's really legit."
Dori took the paperwork Grammy brandished at her. It looked authentic enough, and as far as Dori knew, Chuy hadn't dabbled in forgery; that had been their Aunt Betty's specialty.
"Man, cuz, this is one helluva house you got here," Chuy said as he and his friend came back with a new stove. "Now I got somewhere to go when Linda gets mad at me, you know?"
"You tell Linda that she and the kids can stay with me anytime," Dori said.
Chuy's grin flattened. His friend snickered.
Dori met his nasty
look, determined not to blink or look away. Of all her cousins, they were closest in age, with Dori beating him out by six weeks. They'd grown up competing for Grampy's attention, and it was never enough that he loved them equally. In the process, they'd given each other black eyes, skinned shins and bites. The fights Dori won weren't because she was a girl; he'd fought her like she was a guy, and some of the tussles she'd had on the streets would've gone a lot differently if it weren't for him. In a way, she should be grateful, even if he was a rat.
"Cut it out, you two," Grammy scolded. "When will you be done, mijo?"
"In an hour or so."
"Good. Make yourself at home."
Chuy's friend opened her refrigerator and helped himself.
"So-" Chuy jerked his chin up as he spoke to Dori. "Grammy told me you need me to work on the house."
"Did she?"
"Yeah. I can like give you a special discount."
"Doing what?"
"Painting and stuff. I'll have to do it on the side with my new job and all. I was thinking we could start with that fireplace in the hallway. We could haul it out tonight."
Dori's spine stiffened. Over her dead body. That fireplace was Carrera marble.
Grammy must've read the look on Dori's face. She moved to stand between them. "Mijo, you boys get to work."
"Hello," Meg chimed in. "Are you the infamous Grammy Cena?"
Grammy sized up Meg. "Infamous?"
"Yes, I heard about the Hotel Del and the video at the wedding."
"Did you now?"
Meg sent an apologetic look at Dori who quickly introduced them. Grammy pulled her hand away after Meg's vigorous shake.
"You have anything to drink around here?"
"Excuse us a minute, Meg."
Dori pulled Grammy into her office.
"I'm sorry, but you have to take this stuff back," Dori said. "Grammy, this is too much."
"Where'd you meet that girl?"
"At the library."
"Why does she talk like she's from Australia or something?"
"Because she's from England," Dori said. "Grammy, I'm serious. I can't let you pay for all this."
"She dresses weird. I don't know about her yet."
Dori crossed her arms, and Grammy huffed. "Can't you see that you need decent appliances?"
"I know but-"
"Just take the goddamned appliances!" She tossed up her hands with exasperation. "It's all top of the line. You can pay me back by taking care of me in my old age."
Meg tapped on the door. "Dori, I'll just run off now."
"Stay mija," Grammy said. "You go make us some tea and open up those lemon cookies I put on the table."
Dori mouthed “run” to Meg, who winked and exclaimed, "Absolutely!"
While Meg helped Dori make the tea tray, Grammy pointed exactly where she wanted Chuy and his friend to install the appliances.
She turned to Dori. "Bring those cookies and tea into the living room." To Meg, she smiled, "Tell me again where you're from and why you're hanging around my ungrateful granddaughter."
Meg walked Grammy into the living room while Dori did as she was told. She set everything down and then tried not to wince when Grammy asked if they had Mexicans in England.
"I had a friend who was from Mexico City. She came from a cement family."
"Cement family? What kind of family is that?" Grammy pulled out her flask and poured tequila into her cup.
Meg watched Grammy with delight. "Oh, her family owned a big cement company."
"What?" Grammy demanded when she caught Dori shaking her head.
"Nothing," Dori said. "What did you do this weekend?"
"Aren't you on that Facebook yet?"
"No."
"You should be. I figured out how to post pictures. I got me 26 friends."
"Do you know these people?"
Grammy shrugged and turned to Meg. "She's mad at me. I never make her happy."
"I don't like you spending all that money," Dori cut in.
"Why? You get the benefit, not me. And I can help my pobrecito Chuy out there." She turned to Meg. "He's what you might call, 'in transition.'"
Dori pressed her lips not to say anything about her cousin's probation status.
"See? This is what's wrong with your generation. Y'all are so uptight and stressed. In my day, we said thank you."
"It's not that I don't appreciate it but what's wrong with calling and showing respect for someone's personal space especially with a convicted felon?"
Grammy's eyebrows twisted as if Dori had just spoken in tongues. "But we're family!"
"What if I was with a guy?"
Grammy rolled her eyes as if that would never happen. "That's what locks are for."
Meg snorted and then clamped her lips shut.
"So how do you fit into all this?" Grammy asked her.
"I'm helping Dori find Anna Vazquez."
"Anna who?"
Dori nearly spit her tea. "My great-great-great grandmother, remember?"
Grammy frowned at her as if she were crazy. "Must be on your mama's side."
Meg cleared her throat. "You know a lot of the old families from the Westside, don't you?"
"Sure do."
"You should come in and do an oral history."
"An oral what?"
"Tell me your story and your family history and I'll record it."
"Why? Are you saying I'm old?"
Meg blinked.
"I'm just messin' with you. Sure. Now who is-"
"Meg's helping me with research on the house," Dori said.
"Does the name Vicente Sorolla strike a bell?" Meg asked.
"Let me think. There was a lady named Sorolla."
Meg and Dori looked at each other.
"And?" Meg prompted.
"I vaguely remember her. I think she lived next door."
"Do you remember her first name?" Dori asked, wishing she'd thought to ask Grammy before.
Grammy shook her head. "She lived by herself."
It hadn't occurred to Dori to look for Eugenia. If she was the same woman Grammy was talking about and she had children, then Vicente had family.
"Why did she live alone?" Meg asked. "Was she a widow?"
"Oh yes. It was so sad. My mama found her."
"Dead?" Dori asked, looking into the hallway for signs of Vicente.
Grammy nodded. "She had to bury the poor lady. There was no one to pay. I just remember them calling her Señorita Sorolla."
"Do you remember the year this happened?" Dori asked, remembering Vicente's story about the dance and how he'd found out his sister had married his friend, Alex.
Grammy lifted a shoulder and then blew the steam off her tea. "I was just a little girl."
Vicente kept to the shadows in the hallway. He could see the old lady's back and half of Dori's face as she listened to the sad tale of Señorita Sorolla.
If he had a heart, it would be aching now. His beautiful, delicate sister should never have died alone. When he last saw her, she had been married and she'd had her son and another on the way. They should've taken care of her when he couldn't.
He pulled away from the light that shone across the floor. He wished he'd stayed wherever it was that he went, but he'd been called by the sound of Dori's voice. He realized the front parlor was just a few steps away. He could feel it watching him.
"Oh shit!" someone shouted behind him.
Vicente swung around and faced two hobos who'd wandered into the hallway. Then again, they were both too clean-shaven to be bums. They had tattoos on their necks and their arms. They wore short kid's pants that sagged over their hips and long white socks.
The hobos just stood there, eyes blinking and mouths comically moving but no sound coming out.
Vicente couldn't help himself. "Boo," he said.
The bum in the white undershirt jumped up in the air, spun and then ran. His friend was right on his heels making a strange keening sound like a small animal about to
be eaten. The first one skidded, nearly missing the wall and then shouted, "Jesus save me!"
Not feeling any better, Vicente stuck his hands in his pockets as he turned back to the living room.
"What the hell was that?" the old lady asked.
"You stay here," Dori said. The floorboards creaked under her footsteps.
She stopped short when she saw Vicente. She pursed her lips with exasperation.
"I was minding my own business, listening to you talk about me," he said. "I can't control who sees me."
They both turned at the sound of a truck starting and driving away.
Dori walked into the kitchen. "Damn it. Couldn't you have scared them after they installed the appliances?"
Vicente appeared beside her. The refrigerator had been pulled out of the kitchen and partially blocked the door.
Dori pressed her hand to her forehead. "You've got to be kidding me."
"What happened to my sister?"
She turned back to him. "What?"
"My sister. You were talking about her."
"I can't deal with this right now. I have a refrigerator on my deck and no stove."
"Tell me."
"I don't know what happened to her. I was trying to find out."
"Mija, who are you talking to?"
Dori's eyes went wide, and Vicente almost laughed at her.
There stood the old lady and another woman wearing a puffy sleeved blouse that reminded him of his grandmother's clothes. He stepped out of their line of vision.
"Wait!" Dori cried out. "Uh, go wait in the living room. I'll take care of this."
"Why was your cousin screaming?" the younger woman asked.
"Where the hell did he go?" the old lady asked.
Dori's lips twitched. "He ran so fast I didn't have a chance to ask."
"Don't be so mean." The old lady pulled out a thin little box from the pocket of her sweater.
"It's been fun but maybe I should go," the younger woman said, walking to the door.
Vicente turned as she walked by, deliberately eyeing her backside to torment Dori.
"You don't have to go, but I don't blame you," Dori said as the old lady squawked into the little box.
"I've stayed long enough," she replied, hugging Dori and then heading out the door.
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