Page 7 of Sundowners
“As long as I have them all. I want to have my family with me.”
Her smile faded, and I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and make a clean getaway.
She wanted her pictures so she didn’t forget. We’d talked about them before I left. I’d tried to put them in one of the spare rooms and she shouted at me and cried. I’d made my grandmother cry, and I’d felt like the lowest of low. Kinda how I felt now, leaving her behind in an unfamiliar place.
“I love you,” I whispered to her as I hugged her once more.
“You’re a good boy. I’m glad you’re home. Now go take a shower, you smell bad and your hair is too long.”
Yeah, it was good to be home. Even if it hurt like hell to see my lola in assisted living.
“The place is really nice,” Reynaldo was saying as we walked out to the car. “Phyllis and Stella keep her busy. She’ll get back her sass.”
“I feel for the staff with those three.”
“They definitely have their hands full.”
I followed him down the steps to the patrol car and we climbed inside.
“I’ll get you home and then I’ll come back over tomorrow. I’ll have to jump your car, the battery’s probably dead.”
“Oh, thank you. I guess I thought Lola would be driving.” My throat was sore and my skin hurt. I really wanted to get home before I ended up crying in front of my uncle.
“She had a near-miss after you left, and so she decided on her own that she wouldn’t drive anymore.”
I blew out a shaky breath as my chin quivered. No, I would not cry.
“Anyway, you need to come over soon. Vanessa and Bernadette miss you, and Emmanuel Jr. is driving us all crazy.”
Reynaldo lived with his sister and her wife, and also kept a room at Lola’s. He said it was to save money to buy a house, but really he liked the attention and not having to cook. Vanessa and Bernadette had been really good to me and were the main forces pushing me to go to school.
“Yeah, I wonder why. He’s eighteen. That’s his job.”
“He’s looking forward to having you back. I think he misses playing video games with you.”
“Right. Yeah, sure.”
It was good to have family, but with Lola gone, I’d be alone for the first time in my life. I didn’t like the idea. Not that I was a big people person or a talker, but just knowing Lola would always be there with a hot meal and a funny story made it easier to deal with the stress of school instead of doing something self-destructive like so many other guys I’d grown up with.
“Shit. What the hell is this?”
Reynaldo pulled the car over downtown, just a few blocks from the house. Two other police cars were there and a small crowd of people.
A young woman sat wrapped in a blanket at the rear of a fire truck, trembling, black mascara running down her face.
“I’m going to see if they need anything,” Reynaldo said.
“I’m coming with you,” I said.
“You know the rules,” he said as we both climbed out of the car.
I’d done ridealongs with my aunt and uncle since I was eighteen. I knew to stay back and observe. I also knew not to tell anyone that he’d taught me how to disengage his shotgun in the patrol car, and that he’d told me to use it if he ever got in a jam and needed me to. I enjoyed a lot about police work, but I was more interested inwhypeople did the things they did, which is what led me to my degree path in psychology and criminal justice. I dreamed of a job at Quantico someday, but I wanted to keep my options open.
“They just kept…scaring me. They laughed the harder I cried. They wouldn’t let me go. I tried to get away, I screamed, but they had me cornered next to the building and surrounded and…I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
The victim pulled the blanket tighter around her as Reynaldo and I approached Officer Megan Fuentes, a female cop I recognized from a previous ridealong. We hung back while Megan spoke to the victim in hushed tones. I subtly glanced around at the onlookers.
Whyhere? Whyher? The woman was wearing a business suit with a skirt and tennis shoes, and said she was walking from the bus to her home after picking up dinner from a restaurant downtown. She was still in a fairly crowded area, meaning there were witnesses.
