Lash peered at Raphael suspiciously. He was acting strange. Lash glanced down at the photo again. There was something familiar about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He traced a finger over her full red lips. He couldn’t have been assigned to her in the past; he would’ve remembered someone who looked like her. “The photo is fine. So, all I have to do is keep her safe. From what?”
Raphael glanced out the dirty window and then tilted his head as if listening for something. “Let’s make this quick,” he said and marched to Lash. He placed his hand against Lash’s temples, and a vision of Naomi appeared in his mind.
“What the…is she trying to get herself killed?” Lash yelled.
Rafael withdrew his hand and headed toward the door.
“You can’t just show me that and run,” Lash said.
“I shouldn’t have shown you that at all.” Raphael’s face lined with worry as he walked out.
Lash ran into the hallway. “Wait! Will Michael at least let me have all my powers back?”
Raphael continued to walk, his image fading with each step he took. “No. You must do this on your own.” With those final words, he vanished.
5
Jane wiped sweaty hands on the hem of her black skirt. She looked out of the tinted window of the Mercedes at the small cluster of people gathered around the closed casket. “This is wrong, Luke. I shouldn’t be here.”
Luke clicked off his phone and patted Jane’s hand. “We’ve discussed this. It would be worse if you didn’t give the family your condolences for their loss,” he said. “You’re perfectly safe. Sal will be right behind you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she said. The last thing she needed was to intimidate the family with Sal’s presence. “Because of me, the poor man is dead. The last person they want to see is me.”
“It was ruled an accident,” he pointed out.
“The man is dead.” She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her forehead. Now was not the time to get another migraine. “I wasn’t paying attention to the road and because of that a man lost his life.”
Luke took her hand and gave her an aspirin. “You were not at fault.” He handed her a bottle of water. “One of my sources on the investigation told me that there was alcohol in his system.”
“I’m sure they would’ve found that in mine too if they had bothered to check.” Jane popped the pill in her mouth and turned her attention back to the funeral. A small, elderly woman, probably the man’s mother, leaned against a young man and cried into his chest.
“You have Sal’s quick thinking to thank for that.” Luke turned to the sound of crunching rocks as a news van pulled up next to the car. “Good. They’re here.”
“You called the media?” Jane gasped. “Unbelievable.”
“Look, Jane. We can’t take any chances with this incident tarnishing your impeccable reputation.” Luke tapped the back of the driver’s seat. “She’s ready,” he said to Sal.
“I’d rather do this in private.” She loathed the thought of having her apologies broadcasted on the evening news.
“Your run for political office affects more than you,” Luke said adamantly. “Think of all the manpower and money that went into making you who you are today. You owe it to the party.”
As much as Jane hated to admit it, he was right; too many people relied on her and in the game of politics, image was everything.
Luke looked down at his watch. “It’ll only be a few minutes. You have the Houston Children’s Hospital fundraiser downtown in an hour.”
Jane’s stomach fluttered. She couldn’t think about leaving this poor family and then heading straight to a fundraiser where she would be giving her speech on the importance of a community supporting each other in times of need. She felt like such a fraud.
The door opened, and Sal extended his hand, waiting. She sighed as she placed her hand into his and stepped out. As they walked toward the gathering, she could feel their eyes looking at her curiously. She kept her distance and waited for the appropriate time to approach the Durans. She couldn’t help but think back to the little boy, Javier, who sat behind her on that fateful day when her flight from Los Angeles went down, killing everyone except for them.
When she discovered that the man she crashed into was named Javier Duran, she had Luke check his background. The chances of him being the same Javier she was with many years ago were slim, but she couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling that it was the same person. She was relieved when Luke told her it wasn’t but saddened when she learned that the Javier from the plane had died years ago from cancer.
“Senator.” Sal touched her elbow and led her closer to the gathering.
Jane looked at the news crew and pressed her lips to a thin line. The money shot, she thought. Make sure you get the poster child for the American Federation party in the photo consoling the family.
As the ceremony drew to a close, Jane waited for the others to leave before she approached. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her hands against her skirt one final time and walked toward the grieving family.
***
It took every ounce of strength for Naomi to stay where she was and not run away from the pain that threatened to overwhelm her. Over the past couple of days of preparing for the funeral, she was able to stave away the grief of losing her father.
The sight of Welita crying into her black lace handkerchief tore at her heart, and she wondered what kind of god would do this them. Out of all the people in the world, why him? Why now? It wasn’t fair. Her father was finally turning his life around, rebuilding his life, only to lose it in an instant.
She placed a rose on his coffin and wondered what she was going to do with him gone. It was then that she saw, from the corner of her eye, a svelte woman stepping out of a black Mercedes. Her eyes narrowed when she recognized who it was. Who in the hell does she think she is, coming here?
She cursed under her breath when a couple of men with cameras followed close behind the senator.
Chuy nudged her arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Over there.” She tilted her head in the direction of the intruders. “The gall of that woman. She brought her own personal camera crew.”
“We’re done here. I’ll tell Lalo to get the car. Welita doesn’t have to go through this.” Chuy hurried to Welita who was busy talking to the priest.
“Hurry.” Naomi watched the senator as she glided toward them, her heeled shoes crunching on the pebbles that lined the path. A hulking giant of a man trailed behind her. With his black cowboy hat and crocodile boots, he looked like the typical Texan, but the fierce look in his eyes screamed danger. She shivered.
“What’s wrong, Mijita?” Welita stepped up next to her. “Chuy says you want to leave.”
“It’s getting hot, and the heat isn’t good for your heart condition,” Naomi said. “We need to get you home.”
Welita looked bewildered. “My heart is—”
“Mrs. Duran,” Jane called out.
“Shit,” Naomi muttered under her breath.
Welita turned and recognition crossed her face. “Senator Sutherland.”
Naomi stepped in front of Welita. “Senator, we have nothing to say to you.” She took Welita’s arm and pointed her to the direction of their car.
“No, please,” Jane said as she stepped forward. “Please, don’t take offense. I’m here to offer my condolences.”
Naomi whipped around. “You’re not here for us.” She threw a glance at the news cameras. “You’re here for your own benefit, you bi—”
“No seas grocera, Naomi!” Welita reprimanded. “Mind your tongue.”
“I’m sorry, Welita. This woman doesn’t deserve any kindness. She comes waltzing here with her fancy Mercedes like she owns the place, thinking that she can say ‘I’m sorry’ and we’ll fall all over ourselves and forgive her.”
“That’s not my intention at all. Look”—Jane took a deep breath—“let’s calm down before things get out of
hand.”
“Calm down? Calm down?” Naomi let go of Welita and took an ominous step toward Jane, her hands curling into fists. “Lady, you have no idea what I’m capable of.”
“Chuy, stop her,” Welita said, her eyes widening as she watched Sal reach into the inside of his suit.
Jane touched Sal’s arm and shook her head. He hesitated and stepped back, his hand still inside his jacket.
“Come on, Naomi.” Chuy grabbed her arm. “You’re making Welita upset.”
“Me? I’m making her upset? She”—Naomi pointed to Jane—“she’s the one that started it by showing her face around here.” Naomi struggled to get out of Chuy’s tight grasp, her voice turning into a fevered pitch. “She wants to be in the news. I’ll put her in the news. I’ll make her video go viral.”
“Naomi…stop.” Welita began to wheeze.
“Let’s calm down,” Jane said. “I’m sure—”
“Shut the fuck up!” Naomi growled then glanced at Welita. “Look what you’re doing to my grandmother.” She then turned to the TV crew. “Are you getting this? Is harassing an old woman enough to get your ratings up or do you need some blood?”
“Knock it off. Now!” Chuy shook Naomi and then gripped her face. “Look at me. Get a hold of yourself. What would your father say if he saw you acting like this?”
Naomi looked at Chuy and blinked. In his brown eyes, she saw her father. Awareness filled her, and she heard Welita sobbing behind her, her soft voice begging her to go with them back to the house. She wanted to stay angry. Rage was the only thing that was holding back the dark sorrow that threatened to overtake her. She looked down at Welita and then back at Chuy. Pain came in full force as she realized how she was hurting the only family she had left. She had to let go—for now.
Tears pricked her eyes, and she swallowed hard as the fire within her grew cold. The last thing she wanted to do was to give the world a view of her bawling.
Without another word, she went to Welita, kissed her cheek, and wrapped an arm around her thin shoulder as she led her to the car.
“Mrs. Duran. If there is anything I can do….”
That woman won’t give up. Naomi gripped the door handle in response to Jane’s words, but she didn’t turn. She took a deep breath and vowed that she would find a way to make sure that the senator would pay for what she did. One way or another, she’d find justice for her father.
6
Hidden in the shadows behind Welita’s house, Lash peeked through the open window hoping he’d find Naomi. He had gone to the address that was given to him, but when he found she wasn’t there, he searched the apartment for clues as to where she might be. Given the vision Raphael had shown him, he obviously needed to keep careful watch and couldn’t wait until she returned.
While searching her apartment for clues to her whereabouts, he found nothing unusual: a small and sparse bedroom, a living room with textbooks lining book shelves, a kitchen that was spotless, except for the stack of papers on the table. He glanced at the newspaper placed on top of the pile. It was opened to the obituary pages, and a photo of a middle-aged man smiled out at him. Underneath the photo was a name: Javier Duran.
Lash snatched the paper and read it closely. There were a few sentences stating that Javier was a graduate of the University of Texas and that his wife was deceased. What caught his attention were two of the names listed as surviving family members: Naomi and Anita Duran.
He recalled the young women with jet-black hair and pink tinted glasses talking on the phone. Anita was Javier’s mother. The same little boy he’d been assigned to years ago, and now, he was dead. Lash threw the paper back on the table and ran his hand though his hair, frustrated. What was going on? The kid he’d saved didn’t even get to live out his life.
He paced the floor, thinking. There had to be a reason why Michael specifically had him assigned to Naomi, and it would be more than just proving his faith and loyalty, but what?
Lash eyed a laptop on the coffee table in the living room and picked it up. Whatever the connection was, he’d find out soon enough, but first he needed to find Naomi. He did a quick Google search and found Anita’s home address. He thought that Naomi might be there, given that today was the funeral, and headed straight to Anita’s house.
When Lash approached the small white house, he heard muffled voices arguing. He snuck into the backyard and saw movement behind an open window.
“Don’t deny it, Naomi. It did cross your mind that your father was probably drunk,” said a deep voice.
“He promised me, Chuy. He said he hadn’t touched the stuff in over a month,” Naomi said heatedly.
“The newspapers said—”
“Screw the papers. I know my father.”
Lash was taken aback with the strength of Naomi’s voice, so different from the sweet smile in the photo he was given. He moved into a better position to try to get a look at her. He was curious to see how someone who looked so delicate could sound like that. Once he leaned in, however, all he got was an eyeful of Chuy’s broad shoulders covered in a white tank top.
“Come on, Naomi,” he said. “You had doubts.”
Naomi held her breath and then exhaled slowly. “Yes, I did. When I saw him near the beer, I admit I was a bit nervous. Before he left for work, we talked. He was sober. I know it. There was no way he would’ve had time to stop somewhere and—”
“Shh, Welita’s coming.”
Welita shuffled into the kitchen. “Why do you act like I can’t hear? I can hear you all the way down the hall.”
“You should be resting. Why are you up?” Chuy moved away from the window.
Lash’s breath caught as he finally saw Naomi, leaning against the refrigerator. His eyes traveled up her long legs, one foot pressed against the door. The sleeves and neckband of the black rock band t-shirt she wore were cut off, leaving her pale shoulders bare. Dark lashes framed intense pale blue eyes that danced between Welita and Chuy. A strange sensation swept over him, and his heart pounded. There was something about her eyes. He’d seen them somewhere before, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Welita walked toward the pantry. “I came to get some food for…what’s that?”
What the hell? Lash ducked as Welita turned to the window. How could she see me? It was dark outside, and there was no light to give his presence away.
“What’s wrong?” Naomi asked.
“I thought I saw something by the window,” Welita said.
Bare feet padded across the floor, and Lash heard the window pane being shoved higher. He held his breath as Naomi peered out. The wind blew and the scent of jasmine and vanilla intertwined with musk wafted through the air. She smelled as sensual as she looked.
“I don’t see anything.” Naomi drew back into the kitchen.
“I wonder if it’s her again.” Welita opened the pantry door and took out a can of dog food.
“Her who?” Chuy took out a can opener from the drawer and handed it to Welita.
“Rebecca,” she said.
“Who’s Rebec—ow! Bear, stop jumping on me. I’m not the one with the food,” Naomi said.
There was movement and what sounded like paws clicking on the floor.
“Welita you need to get Bear’s nails trimmed. She’s scratching my legs.”
Damn, a dog. As much as Lash liked furry little creatures, he’d yet to meet one that liked him. It’s as if they could sense something was off with him. He wondered how long he had before the dog would pick up on his scent. Would Bear attack him like the others in the past had tried? He fought back the urge to sneak a peek to see the size of the dog. Being bitten wasn’t a problem since he healed quickly, but he’d rather not deal with the pain. If Bear picked up on his scent, it would make it difficult to look after Naomi from a distance.
“Bear. Stop bothering Naomi and come over so I can feed you. Silly dog,” Welita said. She placed a bowl on the floor and tossed the can’s contents in it. “Don’t you remember? I told
you about Rebecca.”
Chuy chuckled.
Welita frowned. “It’s not funny.”
“What, Chuy?” Naomi asked. “Who is she?”
“She thinks Rebecca is her guardian angel.”
“I don’t think it. I know it.” Welita walked to the trashcan and dropped the can into it. “She came to me the night Javier died.”
“She thinks she had a vision,” Chuy explained to Naomi.
“About what?”
Lash was curious, too. He went through the angels he knew. There were so many of them. Because they were always working in various locations, there was no way that he could know all of them. The name Rebecca didn’t ring any bells.
“She told me that Javier was a good boy and that he was set up,” Welita said.
Naomi pushed herself off the counter. “What do you mean, set up?”
“She said that Javier didn’t drink anything that night and that someone staged it so that everyone would blame him for the accident instead of the senator.”
“Uh, Welita, maybe you’re confused with something you saw on TV?” Naomi’s voice was hesitant. “Maybe a reporter was doing some undercover work on the senator?”
“I’m not confused. It was Rebecca.” Welita sounded adamant.
Naomi turned to Chuy. “Do you know a Rebecca? Maybe she’s one of the neighbors?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my mind,” Welita said vehemently. “I have a guardian angel, and her name is Rebecca.”
“There’s no one by that name in the neighborhood,” Chuy said.
“How about church?”
“Hmm…” Chuy furrowed his brows deep in thought. “I know she talks to a Raquel sometimes. You know, the lady that makes the tamales and sells them out of her home.”
“Oh, yeah, those are good.”
“Stop acting like I’m senile.” Welita huffed. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Rebecca warned us to stay away from the senator. She said that the people who helped her with the cover up were dangerous.”
Lash wondered who Rebecca was and why she was there. If she was sent on an assignment to look over the family, then why did Michael send him, too? It was highly unusual for a family to have more than one angel assigned to them. He’d have to remember to ask Raphael the next time he saw him—if he bothered coming back.
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