Not right now, I’m not.
“Are you sure?” she asks me.
I wave her off. “I’m fine. Nothing a good facial won’t fix.”
She digs into her pocket and pulls out a business card. “If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know.”
I look down at her card. Grace Zhang, Assistant District Attorney, City of Los Angeles.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Thank you,” she says, “for saving David.”
I don’t say anything—no You’re welcome or My pleasure or snarky comment. I don’t know what to say. The uncomfortable silence lingers.
She looks between David and me then says, “I’m sorry. I’ll let you get back to it.”
Then she hugs him again. I can sense her relief in knowing he’s safe. I can sense her reluctance to let go. They kiss.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Paige watching this exchange from a distance. The expression on her face is one of disheartened sadness. She looks how I feel.
The kiss finally ends, and Grace walks away. David turns to me. Part of me wants to ask about his fiancée. Why didn’t he tell me about her? Why didn’t he tell her about me? Am I that insignificant? Or is it something else—something worth hiding?
He coughs, using it as a transition. “You were going to tell me what happened in there?”
I shake my head. “Not tonight, David.”
He nods, seeming to understand. “Right. Okay. Are you going to be all right getting home?”
“Yes.”
He nods again. There’s not much else he can do. “Well, I think I’ve got everything covered here. I’ve got your statement. I’ve told the captain everything… well, almost everything. Most this I can’t even begin to explain.” He chuckles knowingly. I say nothing. “So… I don’t need you… to stick around if you don’t want to.”
Ouch. “Okay,” I say.
“Okay.” He starts to walk away then turns back. He takes a couple of steps toward me, words trying to come out.
Please, say something. Apologize for not mentioning Grace. Tell me you feel something between us. Tell me you’re torn. Tell me that’s why you never mentioned me to her or her to me. Tell me you’re afraid, and I’ll tell you I’m afraid. Tell me literally anything.
He shakes his head, turns, and walks away. Why are men such idiots?
I watch as the first person he returns to is Grace. She latches onto his arm, and they head back to the church grounds.
Paige comes walking up slowly. “Are you okay?”
“Can we go home, now?” I ask.
She nods. “I’ll drive.”
I gingerly get into the passenger seat of my Mini. Paige gets in and turns the ignition. The car rolls away, and the police open a path for us. I look through the window, watching David and Grace disappear into the crowd. I see Father Ramon waving as if this would comfort me. It doesn’t.
Chapter 39
____◊____
A WEEK LATER, THE incident at Our Lady of the Angels is still in the news. I’m in bed, watching yet another newscast of what purportedly happened there. They don’t have all the details, but they do have the gist of it.
Detective David Resnick—once again a hero in the city—solved the case of the murders of a dozen police officers. Wrong. There’s no mention of me, but that’s probably for the best. I don’t need the attention right now. But you know, it’d be nice for business.
Carmen Viramontes, a suspected drug lord, was working with another suspect to murder multiple police officers. The coconspirator, Hugo Escalante, was murdered earlier in a shootout. Viramontes was hiding at the Cathedral of Our Lady of Angels under surveillance by the LAPD. Mostly true.
When Detective Resnick confronted Ms. Viramontes about her involvement in the murders, they engaged in an altercation, and she attacked Detective Resnick with violent force. Detective Resnick took appropriate actions to protect himself, and Ms. Viramontes sustained injuries in the conflict and was taken to an area hospital, where she later died. Mostly wrong.
However, the part that gets me is that Carmen Viramontes is dead. The last time I saw her, she was very much alive. I wonder what happened to her after those ambulance doors closed. I wonder what Percival was able to do.
There is no information about Elizabeth on the news. For better or worse, the LAPD has left me alone since that night. No follow-up interviews or interrogations. No calls. No updates either. Elizabeth’s current situation is a complete mystery to me.
The only contact attempted by the LAPD has been from David—three text messages, two phone calls, and one voicemail asking if I’m okay. I’ve chosen to ignore them, deciding distance is the thing I need right now. I do wonder what is going to happen to Elizabeth. I wonder if she’s okay and if Santa Muerte is gone from her life forever. I hope so.
A knock on the door pulls my attention from my laptop. Paige is not home, which means I’m going to have to get up and scare some unfortunate courier. After a week, my face still hasn’t fully healed. Granted, it’s better, but my complexion is still reddened, and the blisters have been replaced by a shedding of dead skin like the world’s worst sunburn.
I get up, covering my head with the hood from my sweatshirt. When I open the door, I find Ammon standing in the hallway. He wears the same suit I saw him in before and holds a red gift box with gold ribbon.
“Hello, Darcy,” he says coolly.
“Ammon?” I’m a bit shocked to see him, and though I try to match his casual tone, my uptalk reveals my surprise.
“I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Just watching the news.” I nod at the box. “Is that for me?”
“If you might consider inviting me in.”
“What are you, a vampire?”
“No,” he says matter-of-factly. It’s as if I asked if he were hungry or wanted a diet soda.
“Uh, sure. Come on in.”
Ammon steps inside and looks around my apartment. “You
