“Or stuck in foster care.” Gaby nearly shuddered. She looked at Dacia and felt Mali squeezing in behind her, and she knew she wouldn’t let that happen. Good foster homes existed, she was sure of that, but she wouldn’t take the chance. The little girls deserved more.
They deserved . . . love.
Fuck. What did she know about love?
Dacia looked from Bliss to Gaby. “We have no family searching for us. And I will not be separated from Malinal.”
“No, you won’t,” Gaby assured her. “Come on, let’s grab a seat.”
It was difficult for her to walk with Mali on her butt, but she managed to pry the little girl off and into a chair. Dacia scooted her chair closer to her sister’s. Beneath the table, they held hands.
A lump of emotion, big as a melon, lodged in Gaby’s throat.
She sought words to put them at ease. “So, ladies, Bliss is a good friend and a really terrific human being. And best of all, she’s been where you’re at, so she gets it, you know?”
Bliss nodded while loading up the plates. “I really do.”
Dacia frowned. “Gets . . . what?”‘
Bliss answered. “What it’s like to wonder where you’ll sleep that night, if you’ll be safe from the drug dealers and the gangs and anyone else who preys on others. I know what it’s like to share my bedding with the rats and fleas and other creepy-crawlies. I’ve stolen food, and when I got lucky, clothes, too.” She finally took her own seat. “I wasn’t as young as you, but I’ve been where you’re at. I know how it is.”
The girls sat there, only half listening as they eyed the feast before them.
Gaby rolled her eyes. “Dig in already.” But it wasn’t until she and Bliss started to eat that the girls followed suit.
Amazed, Gaby watched their food disappear and accepted that they were bottomless pits. Feeding those two would be no small endeavor. She looked at Bliss, and saw that her friend was also amazed. She smiled as she refilled the plates.
Might as well get it all out in the open, Gaby thought. “I want them to sleep here, with you, for a little while. That’s not a problem, is it?”
With a mouthful, Bliss shook her head. After she swallowed, she said, “I’ll take the couch and they can have my room, that way they can sleep together in the bed.”
Slowly, Dacia set aside her fork. For a long time she just stared at her plate. Finally, her big dark eyes came up to meet Bliss’s. “We do not want to take your bed.”
Bliss shrugged a rounded shoulder. “I don’t mind. You wouldn’t both fit on the couch.”
Dacia’s breathing deepened—and Gaby understood her fear. “Dacia, listen to me. You said you trusted me, right?”
She closed her eyes, but nodded. As if in pain, she whispered, “Yes.”
“And Luther,” Bliss said.
True, but Luther counted as something very different, she just wasn’t sure what. “My point is that I only get close to really special people.”
“And I’m special?” Bliss asked, looking very pleased.
“Yeah, you are.” What did Bliss think? That Gaby got chummy with just anyone? “She wants you to have her bed. She’s not going to hold it against you. She won’t expect anything in return. And if during the middle of the night, you need her for something, even if it’s just to talk . . . ” Gaby had to stop because that damn melon in her throat felt like it was swelling. “Bliss would want you to wake her.”
“Yeah,” Bliss said. “We could do a girl talk or something until you felt better. Like, we could eat ice cream, or watch TV. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
The girls looked flummoxed by such a proposition.
Bliss sighed. “Back when I was on the streets, I used to want someone to talk to so bad. But there wasn’t anyone.”
“You cannot trust others,” Dacia said.
“True enough—when you’re on the street. But you’re here with me now, and Gaby is watching out for you, so you can always talk to us. Okay?”
Dacia took her sister’s hand again. “I will . . . try.”
Bliss reached across the table and took the girl’s hand. “We’ll get everything worked out. But until then, how about pie and ice cream for dessert?”
Dacia looked ready to faint at the offer, and Mali actually gasped.
Gaby didn’t know what she’d do with the girls, but she did know that she’d protect them with her life.
And Luther would just have to get over it.
Chapter 15
Luther stood behind Ann at her desk, reading over her shoulder as they perused the findings from the arson squad. Because of the circumstances, the team had been great, giving them the go-ahead on their own investigation with agreement that they each keep the other apprised of findings.
So far they hadn’t found much.
A scuffle sounded in the hall, and someone crashed into a wall; nothing unusual in that. Muffled voices reached them. Someone shouted a protest, and then protested louder again.
The squad room door opened with a crash.
Luther tuned out the extraneous noise. This time of day the station always buzzed with activity.
A hooker loudly complained as she waited processing. Two young men kept trying to get to each other to finish a fight they’d started in the streets. The officer who’d brought them in bellowed for them to shut up.
Gary Webb, the mail clerk, came and went as he not only delivered mail, but coffee and the occasional sandwich or donut, too.
“Hey, Detective. Got a minute?”
While Luther continued to read, Ann looked up.
She went unnaturally still, and then brought her elbow back into Luther’s ribs. “Uh, Luther.”
“Yeah?” He lifted another paper, engrossed in the detailing of what sounded like heavy shackles found in the rubble.
“Luther,” Ann said again.
He lifted a finger, asking for her patience. Frowning, he read about an old freezer found at the house. An appliance to keep dissected body parts? Probably—but it had been empty when the fire took the place.
He lowered the paper. “What?”
Ann nodded toward the door with a distinct, “Ahem.”
Luther followed the direction of her gaze, and there stood Gaby with a very flustered sergeant beside her.
A hundred emotions shot through him: worry, fear, and that confounding elation Gaby always elicited, no matter what tragedies happened in their small part of the world.
She had the hood of her dark sweatshirt pulled up over her head, and she’d shoved her hands into the pockets. Slouched against the doorframe, she ignored the poor cop who tried to give her rules about barging in without a proper escort. She looked antagonistic and ready to strike out.
Beneath that concealing hood, her pale blue eyes glowed with a strange intensity.
She looked only at Luther, and explained her presence with a simple, “I need you.”
Dumbfounded, Luther looked around, but so far, there was enough noise and confusion going on that only a
