That night in her apartment, Tommy grilled a steak out on her balcony overlooking the Mississippi River. The balcony was so small, she had to move one of the two ripped patio chairs into the house to use the small Hibachi grill. The rest of the balcony was taken up by the grill and a small table where she set a tumbler of bourbon as she monitored the steak, getting it just right where it was crispy on the outside and tender inside.
The sun setting behind the Minneapolis skyline across the river lit everything in brilliant orange and red hues.
“Days like today are worth eight months of winter weather,” Tommy thought, kicking her scuffed cowboy boots up on the small table. The Twins had an away game that wasn’t being broadcast locally, so she picked up her new book, “Skies of Ash,” about a badass Los Angeles detective named Lou Norton. Norton wouldn’t put up with the shit Tommy did. She’d have to start thinking, “What would Lou do?” the next time some asshole tried to boss her around.
Later, after she was comfortably full from her steak, microwaved mashed potatoes, and another bourbon, Tommy rummaged in the big leather bag she used for work. She took out a folder containing a few of the shots she had blown up to eight by tens at the office.
Standing in front of the oversized corkboard above her computer desk, she ripped off a few old wedding announcements and party invitations to make room. She tacked the photos to the board and sat back down, staring.
The news researchers had found a fairly recent photo of Belinda and Jason Carter at a New York City fundraiser for the arts. Belinda had aged well. Her trim, toned figure could pull off a strapless red dress. But her smile didn’t meet her eyes. Her arm clenched Jason’s sleeve and something about the way she was holding on to him showed she was uncomfortable, even tense.
Jason Carter, on the other hand, wasn’t even looking at the photographer. He was looking at something across the room. The look on his face puzzled Tommy. She scrunched her face trying to figure out what it was that disturbed her about his expression. Then she realized it. He looked hungry. He looked like a hungry wolf that had spotted his prey. Creepy, Tommy thought and then looked at the next picture.
This one was of Rafael. Her own shot. She’d captured him crouched in the bushes. Only half of his face could be seen through the underbrush. He looked like a wild animal hiding in the forest. His cheek was smudged with dirt. Something in his eyes stopped Tommy. She studied the picture. He looked defiant as he gazed at the camera lens. He looked as if he were saying, “Yes, you see me, but you’ll never catch me.”
Good. A kid like that needed some backbone, some defiance, to survive what he was going through.
Seconds after she snapped that shot, Rafael had bolted up the hillside and away from the river. He was a resourceful little guy. Hopefully that would help him in his new life.
Thinking about him in the care of social services still ticked her off. Detective Kelly was right, he probably would eventually be placed in a decent home. But what he really needed was his own family. That boy was going to need a lot of love to overcome the tragedy he had seen in his short life.
Despite trying to reassure herself that the boy would be fine, Tommy felt an overwhelming sense of danger when she thought about him. She couldn’t tell if it was the “shine” or simply knowing Belinda might have been murdered for helping the boy escape.
Maybe Tommy was just shaken up from Belinda’s murder. There was no reason Rafael shouldn’t be safe. He was in a foster home, under CPS custody. But she couldn’t help feeling he faced a grave danger. And that she was helpless to save him. The more she thought about it, the more anxious and angrier she got. She had promised to help Rafael find his father in Mexico.
Staring at Rafael’s picture, she nodded, her lips pressed together tightly. Her jaw tight. She had promised.
And she never broke a promise.