“I can do better. How long has the woman been gone, a week? That’s long enough. Time the kid was returned to his lawful parents. They’re probably beside themselves.”
She gaped at him. “God, how awful if you’re right.”
“This is a job for the police, Doreen. You know someone on the force, don’t you? Some girl who used to work for you?”
“Sure, Lupe Hernandez, looks Latina but was raised Anglo. She’s lost between cultures and doesn’t know where she belongs. Lupe’s had a terrible start in life. She was-”
“Oh yes, she’s the shoplifter who took-”
“Don’t be silly. She just helped herself to-“
“After which the shoplifted took the shoplifter under her wing, gave her a job, paid for college, loaned her the down payment on her house-”
“All of which she repaid. Lupe’s doing wonderfully. She just made detective.”
“Detective? My, the caliber of your friends is improving.”
3: Appearances Deceive
Lupe Hernandez sat in an outdoor cafe under the palm trees lining Cabrillo Blvd., breathing in the sea air, absorbing the vista of wide beach, blue water and distant mountains. Stearns Wharf stretched toward the Channel Islands on the horizon. Bronze dolphins frolicked in the fountain sculpted by Bud Bottoms. She had grown up here, but she never ceased to appreciate what a beautiful place it was.
A waiter approached, said, “?Esta lista para ordenar, senorita?”
She sighed and shook her head. It always happened when she least expected it. There was no escape. She saw his poised pencil and understood he wanted to take her order, but she had no idea what he actually said or how to reply. Her brown skin made her an expatriate in her own land. She didn’t belong anywhere.
“I don’t speak Spanish.”
“I was sure you were Latina.”
No, I’m not! She wanted to scream it at him. It takes more than a name and skin color. She gritted her teeth, struggling for civility. It wasn’t the waiter’s fault. She sighed. Her unknown father was Hispanic, thus her dark skin, but her mother was Anglo. So what did that make Lupe Hernandez? The blonde mother-greatly idealized for a long time, but barely remembered now-abandoned the dark-skinned baby, leaving her to uncaring Anglo relatives, then a succession of foster homes, all Anglo. By the time Children’s Services realized her mother was never going to be rehabilitated, it was too late for adoption-or to know where she belonged.
“I look it, but I don’t speak it.” And she didn’t think it or act it. To be taken constantly for something she was not and didn’t want to be was the curse of her life.
“Do you want to order?”
The waiter was clearly Hispanic but with fair skin. Some people have all the luck. “I’m waiting for a friend, just coffee meanwhile.”
“And I’ll have iced tea.”
She turned to see Walter Byerly. Tall, white-haired and gangly, he reminded her of Jimmy Stewart, only he was even more laid back. He wore tennis whites.
“Hope I’m not late. We had to play a tie breaker.”
“Did you win?”
“Finally, 15–13, on a drop volley.”
“You were evenly matched.”
He sat opposite her. “Evenly bad, you mean.”
“Don’t pull that phony self-deprecation on me. I happen to know you’re a shark among the senior players. I’ll bet the guy you beat was 20 years younger.”
“Ten anyway.” He looked at her, blue eyes bright, a slight smile on his lips. “I hear you’ve made detective. How’s it going?”
She grimaced. “Don’t ask. How’s DeeDee?”
“Doreen’s inimitable.”
“Remind me to look up that word.”
“I’m to say hi from her.” He accepted his iced tea, then sugared and stirred. “You certainly must qualify as the most beautiful detective in Santa Barbara.”
“You’re not serious!”
“Smooth ebony hair, luminous brown eyes, exotic complexion the color of dark honey, tall, slender, wears clothes like a model. It works for me.”
She looked down at her coffee, shook her head. She wanted to hear those words so badly. Then why did she deny them when she did? “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Okay, let’s try again. How’s the detective business?”
She sighed, shook her head. “Nobody takes me seriously. I get all the scut assignments. At the moment I’m relegated to juvenile, for which I feel particularly unqualified.” She made a face. “For some reason I don’t relate to kids very well.”
“You were an outsider yourself. Who’re you working with?”
“I’m assigned to Sgt. Brogan.” She made a gesture of futility, couldn’t help it.
“Good ol’ Buster Brogan, hasn’t solved a case since they took away his rubber hose.”
“To Sgt. Brogan, women in law enforcement are about as useful as Supreme Court justices.”
He laughed. “Very apt, I like it. Are you being harassed?”
“Oh, everyone knows better than to paw me or make open comments, but it’s always there, behind almost every comment. I’m the department bimbo.”
“You’ll be fine, Lupe. I have that from a reliable source.”
“Who’s that?”
“Doreen.”
“My number one fan.”
“Number one after me.” He grinned. “Just keep up the fight-he said wisely.”
“Advice I’m about to take.” She fished her notepad out of her purse. “That was a strange list of things you asked me about this morning. I haven’t come up with much so far. The only blond, blue-eyed, recently missing three-year-old boy came with a five-year-old sister.”
“Could be, I suppose.”
“Thought to be a father abduction.” She saw his grimace. “It would be helpful if you had a name other than Jamie.”
“All I can tell you is that a woman claiming to be his mother left him-oh hell, I might as well say it-abandoned him with someone we know.”
“Abandoned?”
“That’s what it looks like.” He sighed. “We’ll find out where he belongs.”
“I’m sure you will.” She glanced at her notepad. “Next, you wanted to know if there’s a report of a kidnapping or abduction near the library, Tuesday a week ago. The answer is no, not a word on file.”
“You’re full of helpful information.”
“I did better with the homeless lady at the Salvation Army. A name helps a lot.”
“Nadine, the public health nurse, came up with Addie Kinkaid.”
“Addie for Adelaide, if you can believe that. She’s the erstwhile, maybe I should say estranged daughter-in- law, at least former daughter-in-law of Karl Kinkaid.” She thought Walter would be impressed, but he just looked blank. “You never heard of him?”
“Should I?”
“I guess not. He's something of a mystery man, big bucks, big mover and shaker, thought to be a little shady, maybe more than a little. Actually, nobody knows much about him.”
“Where’s he live?”
