Ethan paced the kitchen, unsure what to do with himself. Lazaro sat on the counter, legs dangling, his heels knocking against the dishwasher.
Ethan whirled on Lazaro. “Quit that.”
Lazaro scrunched his face. “What?” His heels thumped against the dishwasher again.
“Kicking the damn dishwasher.”
His legs were on the upswing. He held them out for a second, then eased them back without striking.
“You need to relax, bro.”
“My kid stole my fucking car.”
Lazaro dropped off the counter and trudged to the fridge. “You need a drink.”
“I need to find my son.”
“He's probably out blowing off steam. It's not like you never did something like it yourself at his age.”
“Graham isn't like that.”
Lazaro opened the fridge and rummaged through the shelves. “If you say so.”
Why the hell was he wasting time here with Lazaro? Ethan stormed to the closet in the living room and grabbed his winter jacket.
Lazaro closed the fridge and trailed after him. “Where are you going in that?”
“I don't have a car. I'm going to have to walk. And it's cold out.”
Lazaro crossed his arms, making his biceps look like a pair of ham hocks. “What good is wandering around in the cold gonna do? He's long gone by now.”
Ethan's ears buzzed. He felt dizzy, mad, and ready to break something. “If you really give a shit, you'll drive me around in your car and help me look for him.”
Lazaro pursed his lips. “You don't want to take my car.”
“Why the hell not?”
“You just don't.”
Ethan studied the look on Lazaro's face. His Aunt Tina would have said Lazaro looked like the cat that ate the canary. “You drove a stolen car to my house?”
“My car's in the pound. Didn't have a choice.”
“You could have stayed home.” Ethan pulled open the front door and peered out at the street. “Where did you park it?”
“Uh . . .”
From where he stood, Ethan could see only three cars—a minivan parked across the street, a VW Bug in the driveway next door, and a beat up Chevy Nova at the curb right in front of his own house.
“Please tell me it's not the Nova.”
Lazaro said nothing.
“You parked a fucking stolen car in front of my house. Are you the biggest idiot that ever lived?”
“Don't go calling me dumb.”
“What else would I call you? I've got enough trouble with the police without your help.”
Lazaro stepped forward and uncrossed his arms. “What kind of trouble?”
Ethan hesitated to tell Lazaro anything about his private life, but letting him know the cops were sniffing around just might get rid of him.
“They think Graham might have something to do with Ali's murder.”
“That's crap. There's no way.”
Ethan pulled on his coat. “You get it now? I don't need the likes of you making things worse around here.”
“I came here as a friend.”
“You're not my friend, Lazaro. You haven't been for a long time.”
“But you need me now.”
“So you can make sure I get a cell right next to Graham's?”
“No. To make sure Graham doesn't go to jail at all.”
Ethan pulled open the door to cue Lazaro's exit. “I don't think you can help me with that.”
“Sounds to me like you don't know your kids as well as you think.”
“And you do?”
“Bet you didn't even know Alison had a boyfriend.”
He wanted to tell Lazaro he was full of shit, that if Alison had had a boyfriend, Ethan would have known. But Ethan had already proved how little he knew about Alison's personal life. His coat collar felt like steel wool against his neck.
“What kind of guys you think a girl like Alison goes with?” Lazaro asked.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Alison's dead, bro. Beaten. Ain't it obvious?”
“You think this boyfriend would do something like that?”
“I think it's a good place to look, don't you?”
“Who is he? Where is he?”
“I don't know. Rain told me about him.”
Rain. Of course. “Does Rain know how to find him?”
“I'm not sure. She told me Alison talked a little about him, but I don't think they met or anything.”
A car drove by in the night, its headlights splashing across Lazaro's face in the dark living room. Ethan looked out through the storm door's glass . Graham was out there somewhere. So was Alison's killer. Not since living with his parents had a doorway looked so dangerous. Only back then he was looking from the outside in.
Lazaro pulled out a cell and flipped it open. “Let me give Rain a call.” He thumbed a button and put the phone to his ear.
Pulling Rain into this was a bad idea. Ethan almost reached out to stop him, but if this boyfriend angle carried any weight, it was worth checking out.
“It's me,” Lazaro said.
Ethan held his breath, trying to hear Rain on the other line. He could make out her faint voice, but not any particular words.
“No shit,” Lazaro said and smiled. His eyes met Ethan's for a second, but he quickly looked away and uncurled his lips. “Look, reason I called was to ask if you knew much about that guy Ali was going out with?”
Ethan faintly heard her response, a single word he guessed was, Why?
“Just wondering,” Lazaro said, voice lowered. He turned away from Ethan and paced the floor. “I was thinking about talking to him about Ali.”
Lazaro drifted to the far side of the living room, pulling Rain's voice out of Ethan's hearing range. He paced and nodded at whatever Rain was saying.
“I know. I'm not gonna cause any trouble. I just want to talk to him.”
Ethan took a step forward. “What's the problem?”
Lazaro winked at Ethan and shook his head like it was no big thing. But Ethan could tell Rain was on him about something.
“Would you stop bothering me about that crap.”
Ethan held out his hand. “Let me talk to her.”
Lazaro waved frantically then pressed a finger to his lips, shaking his head. Still talking to Rain, he said, “Why don't I call you back. Or I'll drop by later.”
“What? No.” Ethan crossed the room and tried to snatch the phone.
Lazaro thrust his free hand out, palming Ethan's chest to keep him at a distance while pulling back and holding the phone high out of reach.
“Quit it,” he whispered.
“Give me the damn phone.”
Rain's voice crackled from the phone above, her words indecipherable.
“Do you want to find this boyfriend or not?” Lazaro rasped. “Let me handle this.”
Ethan set his jaw and remained quiet.
Lazaro pressed the phone to his ear again. “Rain, where do I find this kid?”
Ethan stopped breathing, straining to hear Rain's reply.
Lazaro frowned. “Fine. Then how about I tell Ethan who you have over there?”
A spark flashed in Ethan's chest. What was he talking about?
“You tell him,” Lazaro said and shoved the phone at Ethan.
Ethan stared at the offered phone a moment, then looked at Lazaro. “What the hell is going on?”
Lazaro grabbed Ethan's hand and pressed the phone against his palm. “Let Rain tell you.”
Ethan put the phone to his ear and asked, “What's this about, Rain?”
“That fucking son of a bitch,” Rain screamed. “What's he doing there?”
“I thought you might have something to do with it.”
“I told him to stay away from you, damn it.”
“What was he talking about before? Who's there with you?”
She grunted, didn't answer.
“Is Graham there?”
“He came to me, all right? I had nothing to do with it, so don't give me a hard time.”
Ethan almost crushed the phone in his hand. “Do something right for once? Make sure he stays there. I'm on my way.”
She started to say something, possibly objecting, but Ethan snapped the phone closed and handed it back to Lazaro.
“You get me over there right now.”
Not meeting Ethan's eyes, Lazaro nodded.