The girl approached cautiously. “Bella? What’s going on?”
“Get in back,” Bella said.
The girl named Maria did as her friend told her, then Bella climbed over the seat, kicking me in the shoulder.
The two talked in rapid-fire Spanish.
“She’s telling the other girl what I told her,” I heard Savannah say over the earwig.
After a moment, the second girl leaned over the seat. “Let me talk to her,” she said.
I removed the earwig and handed it back to her.
There was more Spanish. I can speak and understand a few words and phrases, but not when it’s spoken fast. Savannah spoke fluent Spanish.
Finally, Maria handed the earwig back. “I am Maria Gonzalez.”
“I’m Jesse McDermitt,” I said. “That was my wife you were just talking to. Her name’s Savannah.”
“She is not Hispanic,” Maria said. “Her Spanish is good, but with an accent.”
I looked back at the two in the rearview mirror and grinned. “No, she’s not Hispanic. She’s from South Carolina.”
We drove a few more blocks, and then I told the girls I needed to stop to pick up a friend who was going to be helping us. That made them seem a little nervous.
“He’s okay,” I said. “We trust him and I’m asking you to trust him, too. I can just have him follow us if you’d rather.”
“Yes,” Maria said.
I pulled out my phone and called Mark. “Get to your car,” I said. “Meet me at McGregor and follow us to Fort Myers Beach. I’m in a white Nissan.”
“On my way,” he said. “I’m in a blue Dodge Ram.”
I looked back at the two of them and asked, “Do either of you know a little boy named Alberto Mar?”
Maria’s head snapped up, her face suddenly more lucid. “Alberto Marco?”
“He’s about eight,” I said. “But small for his age. Half black and half Hispanic, maybe.”
“How do you know him? What happened to him?”
I nearly slammed on the brakes. The odds were so high against it, yet she seemed to know who Alberto was.
“My wife and I found him three days ago, drifting in a boat. He was hurt, but he’s okay now. He doesn’t remember anything, not even his name.”
“Madre Dios,” Maria said, making the sign of the cross on herself. “I was so sure he was dead. I knew his mother.”
Knew? Past tense?
“He’s all right,” I said again. “He’s with my wife, asleep on our boat.”
“His mama’s name was Carmel Marco,” Maria said. “She was my friend, but now she is dead—murdered by a man named Bumpy who is with Lake Boyz.”
“Tony,” I said quietly, “did you and DJ get that?”
They both replied that they had.
“If you encounter anyone by that name,” I said. “I want to see him.”
A dark-colored Dodge pickup was sitting at the entrance to the marina. It didn’t move, though there was no traffic, and I was still a block away. When I flashed my headlights, the lights on the truck went off and came back on.
Fifteen minutes later, we were on Estero Island and I pulled into the clinic, Mark right behind me. There were only four cars in the parking lot—the night shift.
Before I even got out of the car, the door opened and Dr. Lopez came out, her white lab coat billowing behind her, exposing her street clothes—a light blue blouse and dark blue skirt. She walked quickly toward the car.
“Mr. McDermitt,” she said. “I was in doubt that you would return.”
I nodded to her, went around to meet her on the passenger side of the car, and opened the door.
“This is Maria and Bella,” I said. “Ladies, this is Dr. Cat Lopez. She runs this place.”
The girls slid out of the backseat. They stood side by side, faces cast down, hair shrouding their features.
“Estoy aquí para ayudarte a recuperarte,” Cat said softly.
“We speak English,” Maria said.
She seemed to be the stronger of the two.
“Please come inside,” Cat said. “We have food and drink.”
“Can I speak to Maria?” I asked, as Mark’s truck pulled up on the other side of my car.
“What for?” Maria asked.
“I want to know more about Alberto,” I replied. “Anything that you can tell me will help him.”
“Can I help you?” Cat asked, as Mark got out. “We are closed for visitors.”
“He’s with me,” I said. “Mark Ramsey, meet Dr. Lopez. He might be dropping off more patients. I just wanted you to meet him first.”
“Come inside, Bella,” Cat said. “Are you hungry?”
Bella nodded and Cat put an arm around her shoulders, guiding her toward the door.
“What else can you tell me about Alberto?” I asked Maria.
“He’s smart,” Maria said, her legs starting to shake a little. “I used to sit for Carmel.”
“You said a man named Bumpy killed her? How do you know that?”
“I met a girl who worked for Lake Boyz who told me that Bumpy killed Carmel and some others. That same night, a week ago maybe, they trashed Razor’s place and took Alberto. He was staying there while Carmel worked.”
“Did you know his father?”
“I never met him,” she replied, as Cat came back out. “She told me once that his name was LeBron Green. He was killed in an accident when Alberto was five.”
“Did he have a hand in raising Alberto?”
She nodded. “They lived together. Carmel said he was a good man.”
“I need to get her inside,” Cat said.
“Okay,” I said, then lifted Maria’s chin. I smiled at her. “There are a lot of people working tonight to make things better. This facility is open to your friends. Do you know anyone else who Cat can help?”
She nodded and her eyes searched mine, not breaking contact. I was probably the first man she’d met in a long time who didn’t want anything from her.
“I know a couple,” she said.
“That’s good,” I whispered softly. “Go with Cat now and if you can contact any of them, tell them to come here.” I dug into my pocket and produced a wad of ten-dollar bills.
