No One Heard Her Scream

'So Isabel and Rudy were close?' she asked.

The memory opened fresh wounds for the priest. Becca witnessed a dark haze spread across his face.

'Maybe Isabel confided in Rudy about the necklace and who might have given it to her. Do you know what she told him, Father?'

'How would I know that? I didn't even live here anymore. I can't help you, Detective. I have no idea what they talked about.'

'Maybe Rudy can help me. Where is he now?'

'He's at work, but no telling when he'll be home. Is this really necessary?'

'How does he get to work, Father?' she persisted. She kept up the questions, hoping to distract him. And her constant use of his title was deliberate, reminding him of his calling.

'He drives himself, normally.'

The man hadn't lied. The word 'normally' was a smoke screen. Normally, a very clever one, but not today. Not when she knew about the truck outside.

'Why all the questions about my brother?'

And why all the resistance, Father? she wanted to ask. But if she did, his limited cooperation would dry up in a hurry. Evasive didn't begin to describe how Father Victor had reacted to her questions about Rudy.

'Excuse me, Father, but what kind of vehicle does he drive?'

She painted him in a corner to see if he'd lie about the truck. He took a long moment to think. His moment of truth, or not. But by the defeated look in his eye, she knew there was no point to continue along this line of questioning.

'You know, Father, it won't take me any time to run a DMV check on the red F—150 parked in front. You want to save me some time?'

'Why would you assume that truck belongs to my brother?'

Suspicion edged his face, but by his contrite tone, she knew the man was more on the defense than the offense. Becca was still in control. Yet for her to admit she knew for certain the truck belonged to the cleric's brother, she might tip her hand on Rudy's trip to the Imperial. And she wasn't ready to do that.

'Call it a hunch. Your mother doesn't look like the F—150 type, in red no less. Is the truck yours, Father?' She had no idea if Roman Catholic priests owned vehicles or not.

'No. I came in a few days ago. Rudy lets me borrow his truck when I'm in town. My parish, St. John's, is in Houston.'

'So how did Rudy get to work today?'

It took him a long moment to respond. He knew she had gotten the better of him again.

'I drove him,' he replied. Before she asked another question, he pressed, 'Detective, what are you after? If all you want is to talk about that necklace and get a DNA sample, I can help you. There's no need to dredge up the past with my brother.'

Tough cookie. A priest with street smarts and a stubborn streak to boot. Father Victor was not making this easy. Being the oldest, he slipped into his big brother role with ease. When it came to Rudy, the man put up one helluva roadblock. But after taking a deep breath, the priest softened his expression and tried another approach.

'Look. Tomorrow I promise to bring my brother by your precinct. We'll cooperate with the DNA testing, but I'd like to be present while you speak to Rudy. As kids, he and Isabel were very close. I'm afraid this will break his heart. Can you understand that, Detective Montgomery? I'm trying to protect my family. What's left of it.'

Becca handed the priest her business card.

'When would be a convenient time to talk to your brother?'

'I'll bring him by after work, around six if that's not too late.'

'That's fine. Just ask for me.' Becca wanted him on her side. 'You want closure for your family, don't you, Father?'

Without looking up from her business card, he nodded.

'Please . . . help me do that.' She leaned forward, resisting the urge to touch him. 'It must be hard for you, not living here.'

For an instant, pain tinged his expression. The conversation had turned personal again.

'I came in for my sister's birthday. It was yesterday.' He couldn't look her in the eye. Instead, Victor stared at Isabel's shrine, his eyes mesmerized by the flickering candles. 'We still celebrate her special day. My mother even wraps a gift, saving each one for when Isabel . . .' He steepled his fingers and pinched the bridge of his nose, slouching back in his chair with eyes closed. 'It's been hard for all of us. I stayed with my mother today after I drove my brother to work early this morning.'

Danielle's birthday wasn't for another couple of months. Becca wondered what she and her mother would do to mark the occasion. The thought twisted her gut into a knot until she replayed what he had said in her mind.

'Out of curiosity, what kind of work does Rudy do?'

'He's a mason, works for various subcontractors. The construction business in San Antonio is quite healthy. He does okay.'

'Those guys work hard. He must have a pretty long day. What are his usual hours?'

'Dawn to dusk this time of year.'

If Rudy was at work by dawn and without his truck, who had been outside the Imperial Theatre midmorning? Was Victor telling the truth about his hours, or protecting his brother once again?

Okay, she had to admit it. The brothers looked so much alike that Becca didn't know if she'd made a mistake in assuming the crime-scene videotape had been of Rudy in front of the theater. But maybe the DMV records influenced that decision. Thinking back, she recalled a man stood by the truck in worn jeans, a sweatshirt, and a jacket, sans the white collar of a priest in uniform. She would have remembered a priest. Doubts leached into her brain.

Which one had been outside the Imperial?

'Well, I won't take up any more of your time, Father.' Becca stood. 'The sooner we get things resolved, the better. Maybe you and I can find our answers, bring Isabel home once and for all.'

'And maybe some questions are better left unanswered.' Before she replied, he gestured for the door and walked her out. 'See you tomorrow, Detective.'

Becca walked down the short sidewalk to the gate, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder. She felt the priest's eyes at her back. All she wanted was to shed light on a despicable crime, but this interview drilled another point home. She needed to learn much more about Isabel and Rudy. And after meeting Victor, new questions stirred in her mind. The priest knew more than he said.

Her investigation had taken a 180-degree turn.

Paseo Del Rio (The Riverwalk)

Downtown San Antonio

Staring out the window of her small condo on the Riverwalk, Becca took a swig of lukewarm beer, ignoring the flat taste. Her eyes took in every detail, yet nothing registered in her mind. The trip to the Marquez house had struck a personal chord, setting her into a deep funk. Becca ran fingers through her dark hair and pulled down the sleeves to her SAPD sweats.

Even though Father Victor Marquez looked anything but happy, the priest still had his family to protect. He ran interference for both his brother Rudy and their mother, a tight bond.

In sharp contrast, Becca had closed down to deal with her grief, shutting herself off from anyone who got too close—especially after Momma did the same. Before the abduction that ended Danielle's life, Becca would have bet good money on the underlying strength of her family. But in the end, the tie to her grieving mother had been as fragile as glass. Maybe they were too much alike. She remembered her last visit with Momma, hearing the words that broke her heart.

'Get out. Leave me alone, damn it!' Her mother screamed, her face red and swollen with rage, her breath bitter from alcohol. 'Who are you to preach to me about needin' anyone but yourself? My baby is dead. I got nothing.'

Like a sucker punch to the belly, Momma's words struck deep, even as Becca stared out her window, reliving