Chapter 30
Cameron was up at the crack of dawn on Sunday in a decent mood. The investigation was done, the police presence finally gone from the house. A car would remain on the street while they processed the evidence and, ideally, made an arrest. Cameron remained doubtful.
Even better, she had a reply text from Sydney Blanchard. The note was quick: Mei Ling is great and can do, I’m sure. It was followed by a 312 number. Chicago. Cameron decided to text a little later so as not to wake Mei. She’d missed another call from Ricky, but he would have to wait. She needed some time to digest what he’d said. And what he hadn’t. Cameron could only imagine the woman was Captain Ahrens. It made her sick that Evelyn didn’t know. It was all too much right now.
It was a rare, cloudless day with a sky so blue it might have been painted on. Rosa was still sleeping when she packed Nate into the Baby Bjorn and took him on the eight-block walk to the small Latino bakery where she and Diego used to get churros on Sunday mornings. Rosa would love the treat. Even when Rosa swore off everything Latin, she never said no to fresh churros from Vida Dulce. They were the first to arrive and waited as a woman unlocked the door and unrolled the old canopy at seven thirty. Cameron removed Nate’s hat, fluffed his hair and approached the pastry case.
There was an older woman who used to cover the weekend mornings. Sweet, she always recognized Cameron. The one who emerged was a surly looking young Latina.
The woman interrupted as Cameron started her order. “What you like?”
Fine, they would speak English. “A dozen churros, please.”
The woman mumbled something Cameron couldn’t make out before pulling a bag off the counter and snatching a tissue. She loaded churros into a bag.
Another woman called out from the back, asking where the clean aprons were. She emerged a moment later, tying one behind her back. She was older, but the same height as the first, and Cameron thought they might be mother and daughter. While they chatted in Spanish, Cameron took out her cash.
“Eight fifteen,” the younger one said, setting the bag on the counter.
Cameron handed her a twenty.
As the younger woman made change, she glanced over at her mother and said, “The gringa bitch took all the fresh churros.”
Calmly, Cameron took her change, put it back in her pocket, and leaned across the counter. Nearly a foot taller, Cameron peered down on the girl, one hand cradling Nate’s head and the other holding her sack of churros. Cameron gave them a stiff smile and spoke in perfect Spanish. “That’s because the gringa bitch got here first.”
Cameron took the churros home and caught Rosa as she was heading into the shower to get ready for work. Cameron needed distraction but she also needed to clear her mind. She decided to go to church, something she hadn’t done nearly enough after Diego’s death.
While Nate slept in her lap, Cameron focused on the decorative ceiling of the Mission Delores Church. Padre Merafine read from the book of John. She felt calm now. The thoughts were all there but slower, more manageable. She had to remember that sometimes nothing sorted her out as well as sitting in God’s house.
“Jesus went to the Mount of Olives,” the priest announced. “Early in the morning he came down again to the temple…
“The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery; and making her stand before the people, they said to Jesus, ‘Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. In the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?’ They said this to test Jesus, so that they might have some charge to bring against him.
“Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. When the scribes and the Pharisees kept on questioning him, Jesus straightened up and said to them, ‘Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.’”
Who was truly without sin in the eyes of the church? This was her biggest hang-up about the religion of her youth. It was almost impossible to live in this age without being confronted with the obvious contradictions between traditional Catholicism and the modern world. Unwed motherhood was right there at the top of the list.
Cameron kept the truth about Nate to herself with the people at church. At first, she had worn a thin silver band on her left hand to services. There were those who would judge her, but she was confident that God didn’t care whether she and Diego had been married. If truth be told, Cameron was pretty sure God had delivered Nate to her himself.
The truth was between her and God. She sat back in the pew and listened to the Spanish roll off the priest’s tongue. Sometimes, just the language made her long for Diego. Rosa insisted on speaking in English. Aside from her brothers and parents, and a few random friends she saw less and less of, Cameron spoke English.
Though she and Diego had switched back and forth, he’d always spoken to her in Spanish when they were making love. The memory brought a warm flush over her.
“How easy it is for us to think that today’s gospel doesn’t apply to our modern world,” Padre Merafine continued. “We don’t throw stones. Our world is too civilized. But is it really?”
Cameron considered his words. Wasn’t throwing stones her job? Assessing the evidence and deciding who deserved to be brought before a jury for stoning and who should be exonerated? At what point was it simply subjective judgment, no different from the woman in the story. Shooting Ray was a sin, but was his shooter necessarily a sinner? Didn’t the circumstances matter?
Thankfully, it wasn’t her job to condemn or acquit Ray or Diego. Even finding them was no longer her job.
She felt a tap on her shoulder. An older man leaned forward and handed her a note.
She took it.
“From the back,” he told her in English.
“Hablo español,” she replied, frustrated. “Who is it from?”
“The cowboy,” the man told her in Spanish.
She saw no cowboy. “¿Quién?” she asked again, hoping he would point the cowboy out.
He just waved over one shoulder.
Cameron looked back again. She was sitting about ten rows from the rear of the church, which held six hundred people. She guessed there were at least thirty people behind her, and she tried to focus on each face. It was impossible to see them all. An old woman behind her waved her around, hissing at her to listen to the Lord.
At the same time, a woman beside her made tsking sounds and wagged a finger as though she was a child passing notes in school. Cameron gripped the paper, trying to focus back on the sermon. She wanted to read the note, but forced herself to wait until people had stopped watching her.
The priest was talking about the way modern society stones its people. Cameron listened to the woman tsking and wondered if she caught the irony.
Deciding God would forgive her even if the lady beside her didn’t, Cameron opened the paper. She recognized Diego’s handwriting and without hesitating, she lifted Nate into her arms, picked up her jacket and Nate’s diaper bag and excused her way past the parishioners in her row until she was at the aisle. Head down, she moved quickly to the back of the church. Without waiting for a break in the sermon, she pushed open the door and walked outside.
Before reading the note, she took a few steps in each direction, peering down the surrounding blocks in search of him. One street over, she watched the J Church Street train rumble through the intersection. The area was residential—clusters of brightly painted row houses. A row of palm trees and grass lined the center of Dolores, making the street feel like something out of Beverly Hills. One block down from the church was a diner where the waitress behind the counter wore a yellow and brown uniform. The style of the uniform looked as old as the diner. But, no Diego.
She walked back to the church and sat on the pinkish cement steps. The concrete was cool through her slacks, so she pulled a blanket from the diaper bag and wrapped it over Nate, tucking it in under his arms, then pulled his hat down over his ears. Gripping the letter in white, c
old hands, she opened it.
Querida, There’s a meeting set for Wednesday. Details on that drive. We break it, we might catch them and end this thing. Mucho amor.
She stared at the words. He’d addressed her as “querida” and signed it “love.” We break it. We might catch them. Diego was alive and out there, asking for help.
She stared at the note in her hand and considered her options. She did have choices, but there was only one that seemed viable. She would help him however she could. First, she needed Mei to break into that jump drive. Nate woke fussing so she tucked the note into her inside jacket pocket and texted Mei, then walked home, feeling Diego’s presence the entire way.
She was on their block when Rosa called. “How did you know I’d be out of church?” Cameron asked.
“She was attacked,” Rosa cried.
Cameron halted. “Who?”
“Ivana.”
“What? Where are you?”
“She had my card on her and the hospital has been calling the salon since five o’clock this morning. I didn’t get the messages until I got in. You need to come.”
Cameron strode toward the house. “Rosa, slow down.”
“Ivana, the girl from the salon—the Czech girl.” She was breathless.
“I remember.”
“She’s in a coma, Cameron.”
“Okay. I’m coming. Which hospital?”
“General.”
Cameron made a mental list of things she needed to do before she could go. “I’ll be there in forty-five minutes. Meet me in front.” If she survived, Ivana would have answers. Now, she just had to survive.
Chapter 31
Cameron called Señora Accosta and was at the hospital in fifteen minutes. She sent Hailey a text message and left a voicemail, hoping this might be a break for her, too. She found Rosa at the main desk, talking to the attendant.
“Rosa.”
Her sister ran to her. “Oh, God. They believe she was attacked right after I dropped her off. She hasn’t woken up yet. The only thing she had on her was a card for the salon. They called and left a message at the salon. When I got here, they warned me that I might not recognize her.” Rosa pressed her hand to her mouth.
Cameron hugged her sister. “It’ll be okay. I’ll go with you. Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” Rosa whispered.
Cameron pulled tissue from her purse and handed it to her sister, who watched her strangely. It wasn’t like Cameron to carry tissue. “For Nate’s drool.”
Cameron heard her name.
She saw Hailey Wyatt, wearing a navy business suit and heels.
“I came from a fundraising brunch at my mother-in-law’s.”
Cameron frowned.
“Don’t ask.”
“Are you a lawyer?” Rosa asked her.
“I’m a Homicide Inspector.”
Rosa didn’t make a comment, but Cameron was pretty sure a lot of people would have. Hailey, especially in a skirt, did not look like a cop, especially not one used to dealing with corpses.
“This is my sister, Rosa,” Cameron said.
Hailey responded to that with one cocked eyebrow. “Let me find out what’s happening.” She went back to the desk and spoke in a low voice to the desk attendant. Cameron saw her pull her badge off the waist of her skirt and hand it to another skeptic. When the attendant seemed convinced that Hailey was who she said, she lifted a phone extension, dialed. After speaking to whoever had answered, passed the phone to Hailey. Hailey spoke with her back to Cameron and Rosa, then hung up.
She made her way over. Cameron could tell from her expression that Ivana was in no shape to give any account of what happened to her or who had paid her rent and why. “Okay—”
“How is Ivana?” Rosa interrupted. “Can we see her?”
Cameron tipped her head at Rosa and nodded, indicating that Hailey should tell Rosa about Ivana’s condition.
“She’s not awake right now,” Hailey said, speaking with the flatness of someone who delivered exclusively bad news. “She hasn’t been since they brought her in. Her condition is stable, so physically, she is out of the woods. It’s just a matter of wh—when she wakes up.”
Cameron heard the word Hailey hadn’t said. Whether she wakes up.
“Can I see her?” Rosa asked.
“Sure,” Hailey said. “I’d like to ask you a few questions. Can we do that first?”
Cameron glanced around. “Is there somewhere we can go?”
“I’ll find a room where we can talk.” Hailey was gone only a few minutes. Cameron tried to calm Rosa until Hailey returned, and they all moved to a small office and sat down.
“I’m going to take some notes, if that’s okay.”
Cameron studied Rosa, who nodded.
Hailey asked about Ivana, what she’d told Rosa about who she was, where she was from. Hailey asked her to confirm the information about Diego. Rosa paused.
“She’s on our side,” Cameron told her.
When Hailey was done, she looked back and forth between them. “You guys are really sisters?”
“Rosa was adopted,” Cameron said, an old joke between them.
Rosa didn’t crack a smile, and Cameron felt badly for joking. She touched her sister’s hand. “We need to pick up Nate soon. Let’s go see Ivana and Hailey can call if other questions come up.”
Hailey skimmed over a page in her notebook as though another question was on the tip of her tongue, but she closed her book and stood. The three walked toward Intensive Care.
“She was pretty lucky,” Hailey said as they made their way down the hall. “One of the other residents of the place came home and scared the guys off. Otherwise, I’m not sure she’d be here.”
Rosa inhaled sharply. Cameron took her sister’s hand as they stopped in front of a closed door.
“Was it one of the girls from her apartment?” Cameron asked.
Hailey shook her head.
These girls had suffered terribly, but she hated the idea that they didn’t stick up for one another. She prayed one of them hadn’t walked by Ivana without helping. Especially when the difference could mean life or death.
Hailey spoke to a uniformed security guard seated on a folding chair at the door. His name badge read R. Felton. Hailey showed her badge, and the three were admitted into the room with a tip of an invisible hat.
Rosa took a last backward look before entering. Cameron stayed close beside her. The room was larger and brighter than Cameron had expected.
There were no flowers on the bedside table, nothing personal. The woman Rosa had described wasn’t a woman at all; she was like the girl from the dumpster—fourteen or fifteen at the oldest. She wore a dull white hospital gown with a small, green floral print. Her face and head were wrapped in bandages.
Rosa stopped.
“We don’t have to do this now,” Cameron told her, but Rosa insisted.
Cameron surveyed the damage. Her left arm was in a cast hung from a sling, and her right was wrapped in a bandage and set at her side. Whoever had attacked her had focused on her upper body. The police would come back to ask questions, but she wished Ivana was up to answering some now.
At the bedside, Rosa clasped the woman’s hand.
Cameron watched Rosa’s face.
“Boy Killer,” Rosa said, running a finger over the girl’s nails.
“What?” Hailey asked.
Rosa wiped her tears. “Boy Killer—it’s the name of the polish I painted on her fingers last night.” She motioned to Ivana’s hands. “That’s what she’s wearing.”
“So you’re sure it’s the woman you work with—Ivana?” Hailey asked.
Rosa tucked a strand of Ivana’s hair behind her ear and cried. When she spoke, it was with a low rasp. “Positive.”
Chapter 32
Monday felt interminable. Waiting for news from the hospital on Ivana’s condition, waiting to hear from Hailey on any evidence about the attacker, and waiting on a break in Mei
Ling’s crazy schedule to meet and try to crack Diego’s drive. It was more waiting than Cameron could take.
Worse, Rosa was distraught over Ivana’s attack. Though they had sworn to keep this all from their parents, Mama had caught on. Now, she was planning a visit. After Nate’s birth, Mama had come out for almost three weeks, and Papa had joined them for a week. Though Mama was back out again in March, it was hard to blame her for wanting to come again. She had four grandkids in Texas, but Nate was the newest and the one she saw the least. Still, the timing of her visit was awful. There was too much going on that would worry her sick.
Still, when Mama decided, there was no putting her off. Cameron had exactly twelve days to sort all this out before her mother arrived. Mei had planned to come by after work on Monday, but there was an emergency involving a high profile downtown bank and Mei was called in.
Ivana was awake for several hours over the course of Tuesday. Cameron felt the momentum of things again. She texted Hailey the news and hoped something would break. It was after ten p.m. when Mei texted that she was finished with work and heading home.
Cameron called her as she was putting on her jacket. “I’m staying with my aunt in the Richmond District, but she will be asleep for hours now, and she’ll freak if I bring someone home. Especially a woman. My mother is worried enough about the move out here.”
Cameron laughed. “I understand. Is there a place near the house that would work?”
“Actually, there’s a wine bar called Blush on Castro between 17th and 19th. I stop there most nights for a glass and some food. It’s pretty quiet on weeknights and the men are more interested in each other than in me, which is nice. Frankie usually saves me a spot in the back corner.”
Cameron told Mei she was on her way and asked if she should bring a computer.
“Bring the drive. It shouldn’t take too long. Most non-techies aren’t as clever as they think they are.”
Cameron arrived at Blush Wine Bar to a pretty full house. The jump drive tight in her hand, she worked her way through the crowd and found Mei hunched over a computer at the last table in the corner beside the kitchen doors. Mei had her back to the crowd and wore ear buds. Other than the glass of red wine and cheese plate beside her, she might have been at the library.
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