“Other than spitefulness? Not that I can tell.”
“And the Fells?”
“They’ve also been here several generations. Seem like the quiet family of the Naco pool. Normally on the side of good, but never involved enough to be called out by either side.”
Reis chuckled. “I think Mark Fell might be the one that breaks the mold then. I think he’d be willing to do a lot for Rosa Kay.”
“Any sign of Lucia Kay?” Gaby asked after a pause.
Reis felt his face grow dark. “No. I should have followed my gut and ordered the Sheriff to put someone watching that house.”
“No, Reis, you did the right thing. This town is already rife with gossip. We don’t want to incite a lynch mob to the Kays’ door.”
“Yeah, yeah. But now we’ve lost someone who I am sure had a hell of a lot to contribute if she could only be made to talk.”
Gaby nodded. “Maybe she’ll return if it looks like we’ve left.”
“So you think she’s running from us?”
“I don’t know, but I can’t see anything else that changed in her life. You said yourself those girls seemed neck-deep in secrets.”
Reis nodded, still frowning. “I think we should question that pastor, Ian Russel. See if he can give us a better feel for the Kay sisters.”
“You don’t want to question the sisters again? It might be a good time, now that they’re just two, their ringleader gone.”
Reis paused, then shook his head. “No. I think going there now would make them clam up for good. Especially if the town gossips are right and not even they know why their sister upped and left.”
“Okay. The pastor then. You want to go now?”
Reis shook his head again, taking a sip of coffee. “He’s running that mission center. When I left the station, there was a line of people coming right out the door. I don’t want him to have the excuse of work to cut our interview short. We’ll go when the mission closes at seven, catch him just before he locks up.”
3
Rosa regretted not having taken the car. She felt that it would draw too much attention if she was seen leaving town. Instead, she’d gone out the back on foot, cutting through the edges of their arid land and taking the longer, but more isolated, way to the little house. But now, with the sun beating down on her in all its fierce summer glory, she wanted nothing more than to be back home already.
To distract her mind from the sun burning the back of her neck, she went through her brief meeting with her aunt and cousin.
Pedro, her fifteen-year-old cousin, had answered her coded knock.
“Rosa!” he had said, his nearly black eyes lighting with surprise. “It’s normally Lucia who comes. Man, I have missed you! Is Camelia coming too?”
She watched him peer past her into the bright day, then her aunt had spoken from inside.
“Rosa? Quickly, inside. Shut the door, Pedro.”
Her aunt, who looked so much like her son, both stocky and dark-skinned with even darker hair and eyes, took Rosa in from head to toe then muttered a prayer under her breath.
“Sit. Pedro, get something cold for your cousin. Tell me what happened. Is Lucia okay?”
Rosa had had to swallow a laugh. Her aunt always reminded her so much of her mother, although the two were not related. Joanna was the wife of Rosa’s maternal uncle. But they seemed to have the same approach to life. Being both curt, intelligent, and not the sort to back down from difficulties.
Rose took the proffered seat and drew in a steeling breath. “Lucia is gone. I don’t know where, why, or when she’ll return.”
Pedro, who had been returning with Rosa’s drink, dropped the glass, which shattered on the floor. He muttered several curses under his breath, then apologized loudly to his mother and cleaned the mess he made. Rosa had held her silence until he had returned with a new glass of iced water and sat down.
She took a long sip to wet her parched mouth, then met her aunt’s eyes. “Do you have any ideas of where Lucia might be, Aunt Joanna? Or why she left?”
Joanna had shaken her head and looked to Pedro, who sighed. “She really didn’t say anything?”
“She left a note saying she had to go, couldn’t say why or where. Told us to wait for her.”
Pedro glanced at his mother, who rose, declared that Rosa would stay for lunch, and left for the kitchen. Rosa had held back a smile, knowing her aunt did her best thinking while her hands were busy with some household task. Pedro had his dark eyes locked on his shoes, looking thoroughly miserable.
“I am still looking into a few things,” Rosa had said, in an attempt to make him feel better. “She may have left something to do with your papers. I just wanted to let you know now, but I will come again if I find anything.”
Pedro had lifted his eyes to hers, then glanced back at the kitchen. Seeming satisfied that his aunt was busy, he leaned forwards. “Thanks, Rosa, but that’s not what has me worried. I think Lucia went over the border. I think this is all linked to my father.”
Rosa went still. Pedro’s father, Rosa’s uncle whom she had never met, was a criminal. Although her mother had never gone into detail, it was clear that he was something of an underworld lord in Mexico. He was why Amapola fled, why his wife and cousin fled and why Henry Kay broke the law for both women.
“What could Lucia possibly have to do with Santiago?”
Pedro had winced at the name and checked to make
