“Hola, Maria,” Carmen cried out. “I haven’t seen you in ages. Are you still on the force?”

  That was an odd question to ask, but maybe it would determine the topics Carmen thought were safe to discuss with me present.

  “Hola, Carmen,” I replied. “Yes, I’m still on the force. And it’s my day off.”

  I stood and Carmen hugged me hard as if she had really missed me. My arms felt stiff as I willed my tense body to return her affection.

  “Maria, you call me ‘Mama’ like everyone else,” she scolded me.

  But I wasn’t like everyone else she knew. I obeyed the law, even on my days off.

  “I prefer Carmen,” said Diego winking at her, “because you look nothing like a momma with those beautiful curves.”

  We turned and glared at the sly old man. Diego would aim his charm at any target hoping to get a hit.

  “Always trying,” I said.

  “Always hoping,” replied Mama.

  “Join us.” Diego motioned to the little cooler as I sat back down. Carmen looked side to side as if being caught with a beer was the worst thing a member of her family might do.

  I laughed but I doubted they could guess why.

  “Just one.” Mama sat down in the chair on the opposite side of Diego, and in silence, we sipped our beers the way old men would when it was safe to sit outside all day and night.

  Diego was the first to break the silence. “Carmen, you should tell Maria about the photo in the paper.”

  The can of beer rested against Mama’s lips, but she wasn’t drinking. She was weighing Diego’s words. Seemed like she probably trusted me as much as I trusted her. It hadn’t always been that way.

  “Maybe later, Diego,” replied Mama as she placed the can down on the porch. She tugged her sweater around her body as if it would protect her from my inquisitive gaze.

  “What is it, Mama?” I asked carefully. “Do you know who shot at your house the night of the party?”

  Mama had thrown Oscar a party the day he was released from prison for assault and battery. Their rivals, the Nations, shot up her house in a drive-by. Thankfully, no one was seriously injured, but Mama had had a heart attack. She was in a coma and stayed in intensive care for several months. The day Mama woke up, Oscar took off, disappearing with Sheriff West’s daughter. It had been a spicy scandal in our beleaguered office that had only made misconduct worse. The sheriff had a lot on his bothered mind to notice what had been brewing between the clubs.

  Mama’s friendly face stiffened and she wouldn’t meet my gaze. She probably wished she hadn’t come over to say ‘hello.’ Her hesitant silence told me she knew something important, but she didn’t want to talk. So, I did.

  “I don’t blame you, Mama, for not wanting to speak to the sheriff’s department. The department is in shambles. It’s not the same place it was when I started two years ago.” I sighed resting my forearms on my knees. “Sheriff West is still an honest cop, but he’s had a heavy burden to carry. He lost both his daughters to the streets. Faith shot dead by an MC, then Felicity ran off with another.”

  “I know,” she said. “She took my Oscar.”

  “Do you ever hear from them?” I spoke softly to show her I could be confided in. I wasn’t a tricky cop and would never be one.

  Mama gave me a sidelong glance that answered my question. She would never trust me enough to admit whether she had heard from her estranged son or not.

  I continued, “West has made it clear he’d get his daughter back,” I said with an eye roll. “But who drags a twenty-three-year-old woman back home to her daddy? Most parents want their children out of the house.” I laughed at my own weak joke. “Besides, Oscar is a good man. She did well for herself.”

  “Sí, she did very well for herself catching my son.” Mama looked at me fully in the face and gestured with two flaying hands as she spoke. “My son is a decent man. Not like his dead father, bless his buried soul. My Oscar will take better care of her than her own father.”

  Diego chuckled then sipped his beer. “Your husband taught Oscar well. Too bad his Uncle Emilio is no good.”

  Mama whacked Diego’s arm playfully. “Shame on you, Diego. Emilio is a good uncle and he’s going places. One day, we will sit on the steps of City Hall drinking your beer.”

  We laughed in unison as Diego spoke. “I think City Hall can buy me beers if I sell them my vote.” We laughed again at the thought of Diego and his government paid six-pack. But Diego turned grave. “Seriously, Carmen. Maria can be trusted. You know that ‘patient-client oath.’”

  “That’s ‘patient–client privilege,’ and Maria isn’t a doctor,” said Mama.

  “I’m not, but I can keep a secret.” My tone was solemn. I knew better. I put these people down, but it was hard to stay clean when crime was right on your doorstep. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t do that if I was busy judging them. “Mama, I won’t tell.”

  Mama stood, and I thought she was going to leave, but instead she walked to my chair. Diego got up to give Mama his seat. He stood in front of us as if his body would prevent our words from being overheard by any passerby.

  Mama then told me about a photo in the paper of Mayor Pryor and his son, Nathan. She had pointed it out to Luis, the VP of the Cazadores who also rented a room in her house. My breath stopped as I tried to focus on her words again. Luis Morillo was also Carlos’s brother. Whenever I heard Carlos’s name, my heart tugged in excitement as old memories of us together as teenagers filled my mind.

  Mama continued the story in whispers. Nathan and a second man in the photo had threatened her on the day Oscar was released. “The morning of the shooting,” Mama repeated, “the two men showed up and flashed badges. They told me that they knew my son was out of prison, and he’d better watch himself or they’d send him back. Or put him into his grave.”

  No wonder Mama didn’t want to tell me. If what she said was true, it was damning. I knew I couldn’t tell Sheriff West. He’d go loco claiming it was slander, but someone had to be told.

  “I wonder if Pryor knows what his son is doing,” I thought aloud.

  Diego and Mama scoffed.

  Mama continued, “Probably. I’d be surprised if Mayor Pryor doesn’t know his son is a MC thug.”

  Chapter Three

  MARIA

  First, I wanted to know more details and put things together in my own head before I made accusations. But before I could ask another question, gunshots rang out and horns blared from one street over. The cacophony of war noises and angry screams reminded us we lived in a high crime city. Mama held her chest with both hands as Diego pulled her off the folding chair and onto the shelter of the porch. I bolted out of the yard and Simon Navarro ran out of the back door of the corner market. He slipped through the fence and headed for Mama’s house.

  “Simon,” Diego shouted. “Simon!”

  He didn’t stop until he was on Mama’s front porch. I grabbed hold of him and he struggled against my grip, kicking and punching me as if I were a hated adversary. In the end, it was Mama who calmed Simon down. She and Diego huffed and puffed across the lawns as fast as they could move their aging bodies.

  “Simon, calm down.” Mama’s firm voice couldn’t be ignored. “Where’s the shooting?”

  He told the story between gasps. When I heard Carlos’s name mentioned, my heart pounded hard then sunk into my gut. Without thinking it through, I ran to the corner market. Armando was behind the counter, yelling into his phone.

  “Armando!” I shouted, “Where is Carlos?”

  Before he would even acknowledge me, Armando locked a cabinet. Always conscious of who I worked for, he wouldn’t look me in the eye.

  “We’re looking into it,” he replied.

  “You mean the Cazadores?” I asked. “Let me do my job. Where is Carlos?”

  “Who will you arrest this time, Judas?” He glared at me as the words spat out of his mouth.

  I knew Armando was referring to the night I brought Carlos in for loitering. It was a trumped-up charge, but it was the only way I could think of to protect him. Two, the Cazadores ended up murdered and the Disciples show up a Nation chop shop.

  “Do you want me to find him dead or alive?” I said. “It’s your choice.”

  Armando stared with cold eyes that stabbed into me. I’d always be a traitor. I was the one who had left home to join the other side.

  “Try the church,” he finally said. “We’ve looked everywhere but the church.”

  My feet carried me out the door before my mind had time to catch up. I had no gun on me, only my badge and phone. I should have called for backup, but I needed to get to him. I wasn’t ready to lose Carlos.

  The Disciples had taken over an old campsite in Whiterock Lake, but when they were in Mesa they met at Eagle Rock Baptist Church on Ross Street. My heart pounded as I ran; not from the exertion but from the fear of what I might find. Carlos and I had barely spoken since the day we broke up, but I hadn’t been able to let go of my feelings for him.

  I had tried.

  I’d dated a few men, even one of the other deputies in the department. Lt. Aaron Drake was West’s right-hand man. We would have been a power couple if I’d been able to ignore my buried feelings and give myself fully to Aaron. Aaron had been willing, but every time I kissed him, I thought of Carlos and it made me miss Carlos’s touch.

  The sun set behind the buildings and dusk was settling in. I must have been on Diego’s porch longer than I thought. Two men dressed in flannel shirts stood outside of the church. One of them didn’t look old enough to smoke the cigarette hanging off his bottom lip. The other man was older; I could tell by his graying beard. Bullshitting and laughing, they stood by the pickup truck Simon had described. It was empty and parked out front by the church’s main doors.

  I needed to look inside but I knew they’d never let me enter. The congregation of Eagle Rock followed the hate former preacher Jacob Emmett Scott spewed every Sunday to his brainwashed followers. Everyone knew he was now president of the Disciples. One look at my olive skin and they’d know I didn’t belong. If I approached them alone, I’d put my life at risk and maybe Carlos’s.

  A narrow pedestrian walkway bordered the church and I knew there was a side door further down. I circled the building next to the church so I could enter the path unobserved and put my phone on mute. I should’ve called in, but I couldn’t wait. Not able to think of what I might see, I moved slowly toward the door and placed my hand gently on the brass knob. I turned it little by little, willing it not to squeak. I listened for a moment, and then slipped inside the church.

  Squinting, my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting as I crept farther in and down the empty aisles. My chest lurched when my gaze fell on the one thing I had hoped not to see. Carlos’s crumpled body was tied to a five-foot high wooden cross on the main altar with the banner from the market. A large rip in his denim shirt exposed multiple cuts on his bloody chest, his bare feet rested against the floor, and his khaki pants hung low on his slim hips. The bastards had used his own belt to tie his feet. Carlos’s head was bent, and I couldn’t see his face. I could only see his dark thick hair and the outline of his square jaw.

  Despair rushed through my trembling body at the sight of my first love’s broken body. I covered my mouth to silence a deep sob. My bitterness and regret over our break up were forgotten as I looked at his once strong body forced onto a cross as a sick joke. I walked slowly forward, my eyes searching for some sign of life when his chest heaved out a ragged breath.

  Relief steadied my shaky legs. Ignoring the creaking floor beneath my feet, I ran to Carlos and wrapped my arms around him. I pressed his warm body next to mine as a tear escaped my eye. Stiffly, Carlos raised his head. I looked into his deep brown eyes surrounded by thick sooty lashes. I still loved those eyes very much. They always looked sad and wounded, even when he was joking, but today they were dark with despair. I held Carlos close, willing him to feel I still loved him, even if I couldn’t admit it.

  Chapter Four

  CARLOS

  The agonizing pain overtook my awareness as I floated in and out of consciousness. It hurt to breathe in; my broken ribs pressed against my bruised skin. I needed air. I needed to breathe so I forced a hard breath in. Someone was holding me, and my body braced itself for more pain. But it didn’t come. Instead the tender touch stroked my abraded skin. It was as if the person holding my battered body wanted me to live. I lifted my head and saw my divine Maria.

  It wasn’t the stony, hardhearted Maria, the one who became Deputy Lopez and paraded around with stiff, unsmiling lips and a badge on her belt. This was the sweet Maria I still daydreamed about. The little girl I’d met on the playground who grew into a beautiful woman - petite and pretty with curvy hips and long honey brown hair that fell to her waist. The cheerful Maria had eyes that would sparkle in the sun. It was as if the sun followed her around and shined harder whenever she laughed. I missed my Maria. And now, she had returned and clung to me with tears in her eyes.

  “Carlos, can you hear me?” she whispered.

  Her voice sounded so far away. But my sense of preservation came flooding back into me. Maria was in danger here. I was willing to let go of life, but I wasn’t going to take Maria with me.

  “Sí,” I croaked. My voice was weak, but she heard me.

  Maria pulled away, and I gasped as coldness covered my skin. Maria looked at me with her doe eyes and smoothed my hair off my sweaty face.

  “Don’t worry, Carlos. I’ll get you out of here.”

  I grinned at her optimistic determination. Only she would believe we weren’t screwed. My Maria would never give up. Ready to fight, she’d face down danger with a stern glare and her hands on her hips. With patient speed, Maria unfastened my hands. Her hands unwavering, she concentrated on each knot and untied them. Watching her brought back childhood memories of how she’d defend me on the playground from the other children. Bossy Maria wouldn’t put up with the taunts flung at me because I wore the same brown pleather welfare shoes tied with black string to school every day. She had taken me under her care as if I were a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest. But I’d lost her love when I had decided to grow up and face the world alone.

  “Can you walk?” she whispered as I balanced my towering frame against her small body.

  The blood rushed back into my numb feet and I made myself walk forward as we crept toward a door off to the side and away from the main entrance.

  The fresh air revived me and cooled my heated face. The dark night aided us as we moved along the perimeter of the buildings, avoiding the street. Away from danger, my body relaxed in the distracting glow of the neon lights from the rundown stores we passed. Eventually, we made it back to the corner market, but Armando wasn’t there; he’d left Simon in charge and joined the search to find me.

  “Carlos!” shouted Simon as we dragged ourselves through the heavy door.

  Simon ran toward me, but Maria held out her hand, stopping him in his tracks. “He’s been hurt. Go get him a chair while I call for an ambulance.”

  Simon held onto the back while I tumbled into a hard plastic seat. Wincing, I gnashed my teeth in pain.

  “No, Maria,” I insisted. “No hospital.”

  She frowned. “Carlos, you’ve been seriously hurt. You probably have internal injuries. You must go.”

  “No hospital,” I hissed. “If you call an ambulance, I will get up and leave.”

  “And go where?” she demanded.

  Simon snapped at Maria, startling her with his acidic tongue. “It’s none of your damn fuckin’ business.”

  I placed a hand on Simon’s arm and gave him a warning look. “Maria isn’t the one who is harming us, Simon. Do you know the number for the car service?” I asked him.

  Simon nodded, his eyes gleaming with tears.

  “Call them and be kind to Maria. She saved my life...again.”

  The boy looked at Maria with a measured stare and then scooted past her to get his phone off the counter. I knew it would take more than one good deed for her to win back people’s trust.

  “It’s hard for him to understand you’re trying to help when you drag people away in handcuffs,” I said softly.

  Maria’s concerned expression melted off her face and a look of reproach replaced it. Her expression hardened as she spoke. “I can’t pick and choose, Carlos. I can’t obey the laws I like and forget the ones I don’t.”

  I wanted to laugh but it hurt too badly. My amusement came out as an unintentional sneer. Maria’s eyes flashed as the girl I’d loved disappeared into the woman I couldn’t trust. Simon ran back to my chair. “They want an address, Carlos.”

 

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