Darynda Jones - First Grave on the Right

His smile turned decidedly wicked after he studied the number with slanted brows, and he stepped even closer. “That’s not what I want most.”

Without missing a beat, I closed the distance between us and looked up into his eyes, throwing him off but widening his grin. “José Ontiveros.”

He paused, his grin fading completely as he reassessed his palm.

“He’s in Corpus Christi, staying at a shelter. But he moves around a lot. It took two hours for my assistant to track him down, even with the information your aunt gave us.”

He stood in stunned disbelief, studying the number on his palm. “Two hours?” he asked at last. “I’ve been looking for my brother for—”

“Two years. I know. Your aunt told me.” I shifted the bags again, their weight making my arm shake. “And just in case there is any doubt whatsoever in your head, yes, your tía Yesenia is watching. She told me to tell you to get your shit together, quit getting into ridiculous situations — I’m paraphrasing here — and go find your brother. You’re all he’s got.”

Having kept up my end of the bargain, I turned and walked into the building before lover boy could reemerge. He had a lot to think about.

When I stepped off the elevator onto my floor, I noticed immediately the darkness of the hall. The manager had been having trouble with the wiring to the light fixtures on this floor since I’d moved in, so my awareness heightened only a notch or two.

Fumbling for my keys, I heard a voice from the darkened corner past my door.

“Ms. Davidson.”

Again? Seriously?

At about eight thirty that morning, my tolerance level for National Kill or Horribly Maim Charley Davidson Week had reached its peak. I’d armed myself soon afterwards. I pulled my Glock and pointed it into the darkness. Whoever stood in the shadows wasn’t dead. I’d have been able to see him despite the dim lighting. Then a kid stepped forward, and my breath caught. Teddy Weir. It was impossible not to recognize him. He looked exactly like his uncle.

Holding up his hands in surrender, he tried to make himself seem as innocuous as possible.

I lowered my gun.

“Ms. Davidson, I didn’t mean to hit you.”

I raised it again and arched my brows in question. I thought about throwing my grocery bags at him and making a run for it, but those avocados were expensive. Damn my love of guacamole.

He paused midstride, lifting his hands higher. Even at sixteen, he topped my best height by at least three inches.

“I thought … I thought you were one of Price’s boys. We were clearing out of there, but I thought he’d found us before we could manage it.”

“You were the one who hit me on the roof?”

He grinned. He had sandy blond hair and light blue eyes. The stuff of movie stars and lifeguards. “I hit you on the jaw. We just happened to be on a roof at the time.”

I leveled a death stare on him and muttered, “Smart-ass.”

He chuckled, then grew serious again. “When you fell through that skylight, I thought my life was over. I figured I’d go to prison forever.”

After holstering my gun, I unlocked my apartment. “You mean like your uncle?”

He gaze darted to the floor. “Carlos was supposed to fix that.”

“Carlos Rivera?” I asked in surprise.

“Yeah. I haven’t seen him in days.”

Teddy strolled in after me, then closed and locked the door. Normally, that would have worried me, especially with the new holiday and all, but I could tell he’d been through a lot. Something had happened to him, and he wasn’t taking any chances.

Also, Reyes was in the room. I almost stumbled when I saw the dark haze of fog by the front window. Then I felt him. His heat, his electricity. The room smelled like a desert storm at midnight.

“Have a seat,” I said to Teddy, gesturing to a stool at my snack bar, pretending nothing was amiss. To disguise the fact that my body was shaking with Reyes’s nearness, I kept moving. First, I put on a pot of coffee, then stuck my perishables in the fridge. After noticing that Teddy’s hands were shaking as well, I took out some ham, turkey, lettuce, and tomatoes. “I’m starved,” I lied. “I was just going to make a sandwich. Want one?”

He shook his head politely.

I hit him with my best scowl. “Clearly, you’ve never had one of my sandwiches.”

The desperate gleam in his eyes testified to his current state of hunger.

“Ham, turkey, or both?” I asked, making him feel like he had a choice in the matter of my feeding him.

“Both, I guess,” he said with a hesitant shrug.

“That sounds good. I think I’ll have the same. Now for the hard part.”

His brows drew together in concern.

“Soda, iced tea, or milk?”

His mouth slid into a grin as his eyes wandered to the coffeepot.

“How about milk with the sandwich. Then you can have coffee.”

Another shrug of confirmation lifted his shoulders.

“We’ve already figured out Benny Price is the bad guy here,” I said while piling a third slice of ham onto his sandwich. “Can you tell me about the night your friend died?”

He lowered his head, reluctant to talk about it.

“Teddy, we have to get your uncle out of prison and get Price into it.”

“I didn’t even know Uncle Mark had been arrested. The thought of him killing anyone is laughable,” he added with a snort. “He’s the calmest person I’ve ever met. Not like my mom, I can tell you that.”

“Have you seen your mom since you’ve been back?”

“No. Father Federico said he would set up a meeting when we got back where she’d be safe, but we haven’t seen him either. I think maybe Price figured out what was going on and got to him, too.”

“What is going on?” I asked after pouring him a tall glass of milk.

He took a huge bite, then washed it down with the ice-cold milk. “Price sends out scouts. You know, people who look for homeless kids and the like. Kids that won’t be missed.”

“Gotcha. But you weren’t homeless.”

“James was, kind of. His mom had kicked him out when she remarried. He didn’t have anywhere to go, so he was staying in Uncle Mark’s shed.”

“And when he got hurt, that’s where he went.”

“Yeah. James got suspicious of this one scout who kept asking questions, wanted to know if James had any family, if he’d go stay with him. So James and I did our own little investigation.” He put his sandwich down. “We figured out who the scout worked for and snuck into one of Price’s warehouses. It was all very James Bond, you know? We had no idea what was really going on.”

“So they caught you, but you got away?”

“Yeah, but James got hurt pretty bad. We were running and just kind of got split up. I had two guys on my ass. Big guys. I’d never been so scared.”

I sat beside Teddy and put an arm on his shoulder.

He took another bite. “I heard about what Father Federico was doing—”

“Doing?”

“Helping runaways and stuff.”

“Right,” I said. “And you went to him?”

“Yeah. Funny thing was, he knew all about Benny Price. He hid me in his warehouse.”

“Wait, the same warehouse—”

“The same one. Sorry about that again, by the way.”

Ah, finally my chance to find out where everyone disappeared to that night. “Okay, there were two guys in the warehouse packing boxes, but when I reached the ground, everyone was gone. Any thoughts?”

Teddy smiled. “That warehouse has a basement with an entrance that’s almost impossible to find. We hid in there till everyone left.”

Smart. “So Father Federico was trying to hide the kids Price wanted?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t he just go to the cops?”