“I got Goot’s cell?” Rita asked.
“Same as mine with a four at the end instead of a three.”
Rita put the number in her phone’s list as he continued talking.
“I still need this girl’s name for my report and I need her story. The feds put a Level Two all-points on this guy”—he checked his pocket notepad—“Kramer. Darrell Scott Kramer. Fire east of Cathedral on the federal land at the edge of Joshua Tree Park. Endangered animal carcasses in the rubble. Probably substances, too. Interstate violations. ATF’s part of it so there may be weapons in the mix. They only tell us enough to catch the guy. Not enough to ask the right questions once we’ve got him. They get to do that.”
Angel’s stomach had started to rumble. It sounded like people were taking Scotty seriously. It was too good to be true.
17
“I need to ask you some questions,” TJ said to Angel.
“Can it wait till after we finish eating?” Rita asked.
“Sorry,” TJ said, “I’m out of time and me and Goot’re supposed to do surveillance. Brawley’s got some gangs percolating and it could spill north to you guys and Shell Beach. Good night to stay off the streets for a bunch of reasons.”
He pulled a chair to him and straddled it, resting his notepad on the back. “I still don’t know your name,” he said.
“Angela Ann Dailey.”
Rita raised her eyebrows. News to her, too.
“How long you known this Kramer?”
Angel told him about her mom meeting Scotty for the first time in Cabazon. Told about driving out into the desert and living in the trailer. Told about Scotty trapping, stealing and selling guns. Told him Scotty did drugs.
“First time I saw you you said he killed your mother?” TJ had stopped writing and looked at her.
If Angel admitted she didn’t have a mother anymore would he send somebody to take her away? “What’s going to happen if I tell you?” she asked.
Now TJ was surprised. “What do you mean? We’ll check it out. That’s our job.”
“What’ll happen to me?”
“I don’t get it,” he said. “You mean will Kramer keep coming after you?”
Angel felt her legs pushing her chair back, away from the table. Automatic reaction: run.
Rita picked up on the girl’s motion. “Whoa. Hang on a minute. Are you asking can you keep staying here with me? You want to know if they’ll take you away?”
TJ was looking back and forth between the two of them, impatient. “Hey, could you guys do this later? I got to split. Did you witness a murder?”
Angel put her hands on her thighs to relax them for a moment. She shook her head.
TJ, exasperated now: “So how do you know he killed your mother?”
“I found her grave,” Angel said, “dug up her arm. Saw where he’d taken her rings.”
Nobody moved.
TJ broke the spell. “When are you talking?”
“A few days ago,” Angel said, her voice rough, hoarse. Angel could feel Rita looking at her.
TJ stood. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. He stopped before he got to the front door. “We’ll find this guy.”
* * *
AFTER HE WAS GONE, Angel still felt hopeless. “He doesn’t believe me, does he?”
Rita shrugged.
They exchanged cell numbers. If they were separated when trouble started, at least maybe they could send a warning.
“Matteo hasn’t showed up yet, right?” Angel asked.
Rita took a deep breath, shook her head.
“Should we have told TJ about that?”
“That’s Ramón’s decision. He pretty much takes care of the Gomez family. They don’t have cards. If we report Matteo, then Abuela and Tío might be sent back to Michoacán.”
“You and Vincente got cards, right?”
“We were born here.”
“Momo?”
“Same thing.”
“Ramón and Carmen?”
“I think they got citizenship.”
While they were doing the dinner dishes, Rita asked Angel if she had any way to prove Scotty killed her mother. Angel thought about that. And thought about that. And thought about that. There must be a way.
An hour later, neither Rita nor Angel was awake to see the man in the old Suburban make a phone call from his parking spot at the corner of the block. Didn’t hear his car start or see it crawl slowly down their street and turn right toward the highway and Cathedral City.
* * *
NEXT MORNING, Angel didn’t feel like breakfast. She’d had trouble sleeping after her talk with TJ. Like she was in a tunnel. One end, Scotty, the other, foster care. Every hour brought her closer to the unfaceable.
She borrowed a pair of Rita’s old jeans and rolled up the long legs. Good for traveling. At night they could work like those pajamas with feet. In spite of the heat she knew midday would bring, she tied Carmen’s sweatshirt around her waist. This could be the day she’d have to run for her life and she was determined to have a fighting chance.
She made herself stay calm on the sidewalk from Rita’s car to the school door. Inside, she rubbed the perspiration from her neck and forehead and went about checking the doors again. Maybe it was foolish but she wanted the outside ones unlocked. Scotty could kick in a locked one, but she couldn’t break through a locked door to run out. When she examined the windows she undid the latches in the boys’ bathroom and the vestibule. Call it a premonition, call it whatever you want, she was spooked and she knew it.
Before sharing circle started she found Norma burrowing in the play clothes. She waited until the girl pulled out a green cap and smelled it. Norma frowned when she saw who was standing beside her.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry for not being here,” Angel began.
“I don’t care,” Norma said. “I don’t like you.”
“I don’t blame you for being mad,” Angel said.
“Go away.” Norma threw the cap on the floor and resumed digging.
“I don’t want to go away, because I like you and I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
Norma reached behind herself with one hand and flipped Angel the bird.
Angel was shocked but it was kind of funny, too. “What are you looking for?” she asked.
Norma ignored her.
“I need a hat, too. Could you find me a blue one?” Angel asked.
“No,” Norma said, not looking up.
Angel didn’t move away. Quietly watched Norma search.
“What you want a hat for?” Norma asked, after a minute of tossing more and more clothes out of the box. But before Angel could answer, Norma changed her mind. “I don’t care,” she said, coming up finally with a multicolored scarf that she wrapped around her neck.
“You look good in scarves,” Angel said, but she was speaking to Norma’s back as the girl made straight for LaDonna and held on to her arm until sharing circle began.
A thin boy next to Angel held a Sucrets box in front of him as he sat. Since he was so obvious, Rita started with him. “Tell everybody your name again and what you brought for today.”
“Primo,” the boy said, “and I found this at home.” He opened the box.
Angel shrieked and scooted backward. She was only dimly aware of the class pandemonium that followed as she began corralling her own panic. Embarrassing. It was only a wolf spider. She’d even made friends with a few during the evenings she’d slept outside the trailer, but she knew why she’d reacted. Watching for Scotty had made her like a snare, set to spring at the slightest pressure. Within a minute the spider was back in the box and Rita and LaDonna had restored order.
“Well, that was certainly exciting, Primo,” Rita said. “Will you promise to tell me the next time you bring a pet to school?”
“He’s not a pet,” Primo said, his dark eyes gleaming.
Rita looked at him until he nodded, then shifted to the next person. “Angel, how about you?”
Angel smiled, thinking how close she’d come to sharing a pee stain. She reached in her pocket and pulled out the folded five-dollar bill. “This is what my mom called ‘mad money.’ I’m not sure where that name came from but it was like for an emergency. Like if you got in trouble and had to buy something.”
“What kind of trouble?” This from the spider boy.
Angel glanced to Rita for help, but she sat patiently waiting.
“Um, well, like if your car broke and you had to get somebody to fix it,” Angel said, knowing this was a stupid example.
“You don’t got no car,” Norma said.
The other kids ignored her, probably used to her vendettas.
“Or if you went someplace and got hungry, you could get something to eat,” Angel amended, wishing she’d thought of that first.
“What do you think you could buy for five dollars?” Rita asked, and quickly added, “Not you, Angel.”
“An ice cream!” a girl with heaps of curly brown ringlets said, grinning at the thought.
“Good,” Rita said. “Would you have any money left over?”
The girl shrugged.
“An ice cream would be fun,” Rita agreed, “but all that sugar’s not good for some people. What could you buy if you wanted something healthy?”
“An orange?” Spider Boy suggested.
“That’s healthy,” Rita agreed. “Would you have any money left over if you paid for an orange with a five-dollar bill?”
“I’m pretty sure,” the girl with ringlets said.
“Teresa’s right,” LaDonna chipped in. “I bought an orange yesterday at StopShop for less than a dollar.”
Angel got it. Head Start. It wasn’t just talking and playing. Rita and LaDonna were using these activities to teach the kids about numbers and healthy eating and thinking, all sorts of things, really. That was cool.
* * *
AT MOVEMENT TIME the jump ropes were brought out again, Angel supposed, so that the kids could get better at things they worked on the day before. Again, Norma stayed with LaDonna’s group.
At free play time Rita asked the children, “Who can teach the big girl how to play Candyland?” Everybody looked at Norma. Norma made a face and walked to the blocks area.
“I could,” Spider Boy said.
“Yeah,” Angel said, “that’s the least you could do.”
The boy grinned and rubbed the pocket with the Sucrets box.
As soon as they started, Angel was surprised. She actually had fun. The boy, Primo, was a cute little guy and a pretty sharp game-player.
At lunch an unexpected outside noise froze Angel mid-bite.
“Garbage guy,” LaDonna explained.
Angel felt a momentary relief but knew this was another reminder not to get careless, not to mess around and miss a warning sign that could save her. At nap time she stayed by the kitchen door to the outside. During the rest of the afternoon Angel lost track of school activities, instead paying attention to every unusual sound, every shadow that showed through the windows.
The parents coming in to pick up their children at the end of the day made her more nervous. Was he out there waiting? She left the main room and watched from behind a screen in the kitchen, waiting for the process to be over. After the last child was gone, she swept while Jessie looked at picture books and Rita called TJ for an escort home.
* * *
ON THE SHORT TRIP, Angel huddled in the corner of the Toyota’s rear seat, nervous and vigilant. At Rita’s, Angel was out and across the yard in an instant, scared of being seen. She threw open the front door—screamed. A lone man, arms outstretched, back to the door, had herded Rita’s children to the couch. He turned just as Angel flew at him.
Angel couldn’t hear his words but she heard her own. “Vincente!”
He caught her and kept her from knocking him over.
“What’s the matter with you?” He was gasping for breath and the children had started crying.
“Cente! Angel! What’s going on?” Rita stood wide-eyed, just inside the front door.
Angel couldn’t explain. Her own fright and rage had been too awful.
Vincente pushed Angel aside.
Rita walked toward them, softly shushing the children and opening her arms to hug Vincente. “Where’s your truck, honey? We didn’t know you were home.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the guy after you?” Vincente asked, irritated, holding Rita at arm’s length. “Kids said the sheriff’s been staying here.”
Angel could see hurt as well as anger in his face as she stepped away. Okay, not Scotty, but her heart continued to race, ignoring the relief she felt.
Rita lowered her eyes, lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, mi ’sposa,” she said. “I knew you would be mad. Real mad. But what would you have done if I’d called? Dropped the job. Quit and come home, right? From where? Utah? Arizona? TJ was already helping. And we need the money. There was nothing you could do ’cept worry. Right?”
“Nobody’s gonna hurt you!” Vincente said, his eyes brimming with emotion. “Not gonna happen. Not never.”
“You’re right. I know that,” Rita said, her arms out, peacemaking. “And look, querido, we’re all here and we’re okay, and you’ll protect us now.”
Angel could see Vincente’s muscular upper body continuing to expand and contract with each breath. Even Scotty wouldn’t want to face him. But Scotty wouldn’t have to. He’d do his damage from cover. Angel’s head throbbed and, now that she noticed, her whole body ached. She headed for the bathroom and locked the door.
She couldn’t stay in this house. Could not. She’d promised, but she wouldn’t do it. This whole day she’d felt like a target, like one of those milk bottles in a carnival booth. With enough throws, anyone eventually hits one and tumbles the stack. Being in this house would give Scotty enough throws.
When she sat on the edge of the tub her pants felt sticky. Perfect. Her period had started. Searching the towel closet and drawer for napkins gave her a momentary break from her predicament until a knock on the bathroom door startled her and she dropped the box she was holding.
“I got to go.” Jessie’s voice.
Angel guessed the recent events had scared the pee out of her. She put the supplies away and let Jessie in.
* * *
WHEN JESSIE AND ANGEL FINISHED, they returned to the living room to find everyone on the couch. Vincente held Rita, the other two kids on their laps.
“Group hug,” Rita explained.
Angel waited till she got close. “I know what I said, but I can’t stay here.”
The kids glanced at her and burrowed their faces in their parents’ arms. Vincente watched her but didn’t speak. He wouldn’t really know what she was referring to.
“This is the only place you’re safe,” Rita said, voice still soft as if she, too, was exhausted by recent events.
“No, this is the only place you’re safe,” Angel countered. “Vincente and TJ can keep Scotty out of here, but all Scotty has to do is park where he can see the house and he’ll know where I am all the time. He can wait till I make a mistake.”
“No, honey,” Rita said. “We won’t let him.”
“You don’t get it,” Angel said, not sure she really understood, herself. “I’m like in jail. No, I’m penned up, like the Gomez animals. Waiting around for Scotty to come and get me.”
“If you run he’ll find you for sure,” Rita said. “We’ve talked about this. You leave, he might try to make us tell where you went.”
“Not gonna happen,” Vincente said. “We should talk about this later?” he asked, nodding toward the children.
“I’ve been crazy scared all day,” Angel said, “and I’ll feel the same way here tonight. I’ll be near, uh, like close enough to hear, but I have to find my own spot. Where I feel right. Where he can’t corner me.” Again she had water at the edge of her eyes. “Please. I have to.”
“And tomorrow?” Rita asked.
An
gel knew what she meant. “I have to come and go on my own,” Angel said.
“You’ll let me and Vincente know where you are?” Rita narrowed her eyes, clearly thinking this was a bad idea.
“I promise,” Angel said.
“And tomorrow?” Rita asked again.
Angel had an impulse to cross her heart, silly when she thought about it. “I’ll be there,” she said. “School.” She hoped that was true.
18
Angel looked for the gym bag she’d found in the Dumpster a couple of days ago but couldn’t find it, guessed she dropped it when Scotty drove in. Instead she made a travel pack out of three plastic grocery bags. She jammed in a few extra clothes, some pads, tooth stuff, hairbrush, the screwdriver she’d found a few days before, the phone charger, and, last, a green liter soda bottle she’d filled with water.
While the older kids went to their room to do homework, Rita prepared dinner with Jessie’s help. Angel sat in the living room on the love seat, Vincente nearby on the couch. She would leave after the meal but she needed to think about where to stay.
“I’m not exactly blaming you, but you’re a load of trouble,” Vincente said, cutting his eyes toward her. “I get it. We’re stuck with you, but if Rita or any of my kids get hurt, you and me got a problem. Know what I mean?”
Angel knew. Better than Vincente did. She had come to know that his family was actually in more danger if she ran, but she didn’t tell him that. “I’m sorry,” she said, not able to look at him. “You know about the Gomez family? Matteo?”
“I do now,” he said, shaking his head.
“I didn’t mean to,” she said. “I was just running.”
He kept shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe the extent of the bad fortune this girl brought.
Angel spoke her idea before she even realized she was thinking it. “I should kill myself.” Ugly, but she meant it. That would solve everything.
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