Torres checked the time on his phone. Beth was late. That wasn’t like her. He might have once worried but she wasn’t herself lately. He slid his phone back into his pocket. Yesterday when she got home, she was clearly shaken but she refused to talk. She did that a lot lately, refuse to talk about anything work related. The problem was everything was work related.
“Ready, Mija? It’s almost our turn.”
Alejandra looked up from her colouring. “Torres, do you like my picture? It is Auntie Paige feeding the horse with me.”
Torres smiled. “That is a good one. It looks like your Auntie Paige, her ponytail and her scrubs. Think we are going to need to make room on the refrigerator for this one.”
A panicked look spread across her face. She folded the picture in quarters and stuffed it in her backpack.
“Hey, what’s wrong? That’s a nice picture. We should show it off.”
Alejandra shook her head. “No. It’ll make Mama upset. She doesn’t like when I talk about Paige.”
Torres sat down on the wooden bench next to Alejandra. “Did she tell you that?”
Alejandra shrugged her shoulders. “No, I just know. She doesn’t like to talk about Auntie Paige any more. It makes her mad.”
Torres let out a stream of air. He reached into Alejandra’s school bag and retrieved the picture. “This is too nice to put in your bag. Can I put it in my shop so I can look at it when I’m working?”
She nodded, a full smile stretching across her face.
“Your mama isn’t mad at you, Alejandra. She is sad. She misses Paige just like you.”
Alejandra shook her head. “No, she is mad. She stops talking to me when I talk about Paige. She isn’t sad any more. She doesn’t cry. I cry when I am sad.”
“No, Mija. She’s not mad at you. I promise. She is just sad. People are sad in lots of different ways. Some people cry, some people shout, and some people are like your mama and they stop talking. If you want to talk about Paige you can talk to me anytime. OK? You never have to stop talking about her. I am always here to listen. OK?”
Alejandra nodded. “OK, Torres.”
Torres smiled. As he suspected, Alejandra eventually started calling him by his last name, the same way Beth did. It didn’t bother him, it was unconventional, but so was their family. “Are you ready to go in?” Beth wasn’t coming, that was clear but there was no need for them to miss their appointment. This was all a formality anyway; the paperwork had been signed. Today was just to make it official.
Alejandra slid off the bench. “I’m ready.”
She reached for his hand, her tiny fingers wrapping around his index finger.
“OK, let’s do this then. Are you sure you want to? It is up to you. You can still change your mind. Nobody is going to be mad.”
Alejandra considered his question for a second. “I’m sure.” They started towards the courtroom. “Torres?” she asked.
“Yes, Mija.”
“Does this mean you will be my dad?”
Torres nodded. “Yes, that is what it means.” Torres had to smile at the absurdity of the situation. The tattoo on his chest would always mark him as Zeta but he was standing in a courthouse ready to adopt the orphaned daughter of a high-ranking member of Los Treintas. Los Treintas had ruined his life, killed his best friend, imprisoned him, but they had also given him his wife and now his child. Maybe it was a betrayal of Moses’ memory to be happy, but he was. He had had a full quota of misery for his life. This is where he was meant to be.
Alejandra stopped walking. “How do you say dad in Spanish?”
“Papi.”
“Mmm,” she nodded as she continued to walk. “Come on, Papi. I don’t want to be late.”
Yep, this was exactly where he was meant to be. Moses would understand.
*****
“Thanks for seeing me, Larry,” Torres stretched out his hand to Jessop. Not that Torres had given him a choice. Jessop had been avoiding him since Paige’s murder. But Torres needed answers.
“Please sit down.”
“Thanks.” Torres took the seat opposite from him. Being in the building still felt odd. He was an undercover agent. The suits and paperwork were foreign to him. He had gone straight from training into the field. “You know why I’m here. What did you find out?” Jessop had skirted the issue long enough and Torres had let him because he was too busy dealing with the fallout from Paige’s death. He could not add his own culpability to the mix.
Jessop loosened his tie and unbuttoned his top button. “It’s complicated.”
Torres cut him off with a raised hand. “Save it. It’s really not. What did you find out about Ignacio? Where is he now?”
“Yeah, it was him. If that is what you’re asking. His prints were all over the scene.”
The confirmation hit Torres like a blow to the chest. Anger shot through him. He knew, but he was still shocked. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. He had brought the asshole into their lives. Christ, he should have killed him when he had the chance. In Colombia, Torres had had the blade to Ignacio’s neck. It would have taken a simple flick of his wrist to avoid this. Paige would still be alive, Beth would still have her sister, Alejandra would still have her aunt. “Oh shit. Beth.” Torres ran a hand through his hair. How was he going to tell her? What was he going to tell her? Your sister is dead because I took pity on some punk? I led Los Trientas right to her door? Shit. Beth wasn’t handling things as it was. Oh, Shit. Christ he wanted to punch someone and then rip out the bastard’s throat.
“Where is he?” Torres demanded.
Jessop raised his shoulders. “I don’t know. We’ve contacted INS, but he’s gone.”
“Shit,” he said again. Christ, what was he going to tell Beth?
“It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault,” Jessop quickly added.
Torres stood up. “Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t you dare say that this was no one’s fault.” Actions have consequences. They had all fucked up and now Paige was dead.
Jessop held up his hands in protest. “I did you a favour. You asked me to look after him.”
“I asked you to check him out first. I told you I didn’t even know his last name. I asked you to make sure he was OK. I didn’t ask you to bring him into the country and lead him right to her.” Anger burned in Torres as he remembered again that it could have just as easily been Beth. “Shit,” he swore again. “What are we going to tell Beth?”
“Look, Torres. I know you and Beth were close once. I know you will still feel responsible for her. I can’t tell her this, not with everything else she has going on. She can’t handle this now.”
“We were close once?” Incredulity laced his words. Jessop had no idea they were married. “Is that what Beth said? That we were close once?”
Jessop looked uncomfortable, but that was to be expected. Torres’ presence made people uncomfortable at the best of times.
“You said as much yourself,” Jessop said.
Torres nodded. He clenched his jaw until his back teeth ached. Beth hadn’t told her superior that she was married. It was usually the kind of thing that came up, if for no other reason than she would have wanted to list him as her next of kin. Unfortunately, in their line of work emergency contacts actually got calls, usually in the middle of the night and never with good news.
“What else did Beth tell you about us?” Torres asked.
Jessop’s gaze darted from the clock to the door. Small beads of sweat formed along his upper lip. He was clearly searching for the words he thought were the least likely to upset him. Annoyance mounted in Torres. Most people looked at Torres like they would prefer to face an executioner than interact with him. He was used to that, shit he even appreciated it, but he expected more from Jessop. Despite Torres’ reputation, and history, he wasn’t likely to attack anyone. He wanted to slap Jessop upside the head and tell him to man up, but that probably wouldn’t help the situation.
“You know Beth, she is private,” Jessop offered lamely.
Torres nodded. The word he was looking for was secretive. He stood up. “Where is Beth now?” he asked. “It would be nice to talk to her, you know, because we were close once.”