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“Now look what you’ve done, you idiot.” Momma yanked her to her feet in a bone-jarring motion. “You got blood on your shirt. That won’t come out.”
Esperanza swallowed a sob. Her gaze caught the sheriff’s deputy’s. He took a step toward Momma. Stopped. Momma dropped her hand. The sheriff turned to Esperanza. “You’ve cut yourself, little girl. Maybe I should take you over to the station and patch you up. It’s just right across the street.”
His face was so kind, Esperanza wanted to put her hand in his and let him lead the way. If she could just get to the station, maybe she could tell him about the things that went on in her house. He looked like the kind of person who would listen and who would do something about it.
“Not necessary. We’ll get her home. We’ve got a first aid kit at the house. She’ll be fine.” Momma thrust a wad of tissues at her. “Put pressure on it. Dom, get your bag. I’ll carry Esperanza’s. Y’all get in the car. Now!”
Without risking another look at the detective, Esperanza rushed with the others to the car. The girls squeezed into the front seat while Dom climbed into the back. Esperanza dared to peek out the window. The officer stood on the sidewalk, not moving, staring after them. She could almost imagine from the look on his face that he knew.
He knew that whatever Esperanza would be when she got back to the farm, it wouldn’t be just fine. In fact, she would never be just fine. She tried to send the deputy a message with her mind. Like the prayers she said every night before she went to bed.
Help us, please. Help us.
Chapter Twenty
Inhaling the smell of fresh dirt and grass, Alex touched the dry, disturbed earth near the patch where little Jane Doe had been found. After dropping Samuel off at the hospital, he’d returned to Ray’s ranch to check on the canine search. It was winding down. Still nothing of note. The doctors weren’t saying much about Daniel’s condition, other than he should’ve sought medical treatment much sooner. Duh. At least Alex could help relieve Samuel’s stress by staying on top of the Jane Doe case so Samuel could focus on his brother and family issues.
Not that the search had been fruitful. Officers from both SAPD and Bexar County hadn’t turned up anymore unmarked graves. Alex scooped a few clods in his hands, squeezed, letting dirt seep between his fingers. Cooper walked the fence line in the distance with two deputies, a frustrated look on his face. The same frustration ballooned in Alex. The teams continued to comb the area, but with no results.
Alex stood and stomped his feet as if the physical action could disperse the melancholy that weighed heavy on his shoulders. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten all day. Between hunger and exhaustion from a very short night, his body kept trying to crash despite his best efforts to stay alert.
“Detective Luna!” Maddy Stover strode across the field, looking like a cowgirl from a John Wayne western. “Find anything new?”
Alex looked over her shoulder at the open field where Ray’s horses trotted along the fence, staring their direction, maybe hoping for an apple or a carrot. “Nope.Nada.” He smacked his dusty hands on his slacks. “Not a thing.”
“I thought y’all might want to come up to the house for some coffee, but I guess you’re still busy.”
“I’m dying for some coffee.” Alex fell in step next to her. “Coop will come up when he’s done, don’t worry. I think he can smell caffeine a mile away.”
She smiled and picked up her pace. “What I don’t understand about our little Jane Doe is how the schools and CPS could not notice when a child disappears.”
“The children sometimes have health or emotional problems,” Alex said. “They’re absent from school a lot anyway, so the district loses track of them. They may figure they’re back in foster care in another school district. They simply slip through the cracks.”
“Yep. I guess it could happen more than most of us would like to admit.” Her pace increased, apparently in keeping with her agitation. “It’s a sad world. I’m thinking about selling the ranch. Ray doesn’t need me around anymore. I might go up and live with my son in Dallas, spend time with my grandchildren.”
Alex thought about the look on Coop’s face whenever he got within a few yards of Maddy. “Ray might be married, but he’d still miss you. I imagine a lot of people would. From what I’ve seen, you’re an honorary member of the Martinez-Johnson family.”
“That’s sweet of you, Alex.” Her smile didn’t make her look any happier. “Have a seat on the porch swing. I’ll bring out the coffee.”
He gave the swing a push with his foot so he could rock back and forth. He stared at the horizon, wondering what it would be like to have a child to rock to sleep at naptime. Deborah’s face floated in front of his. A woman he could put his arm around at night and drift off to sleep.
Maddy pushed through screen door, forcing him to abandon that dangerous line of thought. She handed him a huge mug of coffee. “Tómas Chavez was an odd character, all right.” She picked up the conversation as if there’d been no pause. “I was thinking about it last night as I was washing dishes. Thinking about things I haven’t thought about in years. Things I really didn’t want to remember.”
Alex kicked, making the swing sway. “Like what?”
“Like the shed out there. The bigger one behind the barn.” Maddy stood and walked to the split-log porch railing, her back to Alex. “I came up here one evening to return Mr. Chavez’s dog. For some reason, the poor old thing—it was a mutt really—had attached itself to my place. I kept having to bring him back over here. Chavez had a bunch of friends out there. They were sitting around in lawn chairs, drinking beer, music blaring.”
“Were the kids around?”
“They were sitting on the porch when I drove up, but they disappeared in the house right away when I got out. Two girls, two boys. All of them dirty, barefooted, needed haircuts.”
Alex kept quiet, thinking of that fifth child. Maddy turned and leaned against the railing, the cup of coffee half raised. “The dog ran off, hid under the foundation of the house, but I went out to the shed.” She stopped, her mouth closed tight for a second. “Chavez pulled a thirty-six Smith & Wesson from his jean jacket and aimed it at me. ’Course I immediately called out, ‘hey, it’s me, your neighbor.’ He got this funny look on his face, real foolish-like, and stuck the gun back in his pocket.”
Alex joined her at the railing. “Strange reaction to seeing a neighbor.”
“He was higher than a kite. His friends laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. He offered me a drink. Of course, I turned him down and got out of there. I could hear them cackling all the way back to my truck.”
“Weird. And scary.”
