Страница 55 из 70
But Angel didn’t want her to know. He was so adamantly against it, I couldn’t help but comply. What he didn’t take into account was the fact that his mother was smart. She knew there was no uncle the minute Angel and I concocted the excuse. But what else could I have said? He just did not, under any circumstances, want her to know the truth.
He said it was because his death had devastated her and he didn’t want her to have to go through that again, but she seemed to handle the prospect of another explanation better than he did. Could there have been something more to Angel’s reluctance? I’d wondered that a lot since she came into my office that day. It had been only two weeks. She wouldn’t be put off for long. I could tell by the determined set of her jaw. She wanted answers. Answers I could give her only if I betrayed Angel.
She finally had enough of waiting and leaned down to peer at me under the table. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
I crinkled my nose, busted beyond belief, then popped up out of Cookie’s lap, wondering in the back of my mind what that would look like. “Oh, hey, Mrs. Garza! I didn’t see you.”
After taking a long moment to fold her arms over her chest, she said, “You sent more money this month.”
“Right, um, your relative’s estate was larger than we’d originally been told.”
“It magically got bigger?” She was such a stu
“It did get bigger. Weird, huh?”
“Right,” Cookie said, nodding in agreement. “Totally weird. That was one eccentric aunt you had.”
“Uncle,” I corrected her.
“Uncle. Aunt,” she said, going in for a save. “I think he was a cross-dresser.”
Not bad. Not bad.
Mrs. Garza slid into the booth with us. “I’m not here to cause problems, Ms. Davidson.”
This was not going to end well. “Call me Charley,” I said. “And this is my assistant, Cookie.”
She blinked at her. “Your name is Cookie?” she asked her. No one had ever questioned that, but she was right. It was an odd name. And yet it fit her so perfectly.
“Sure is.” She held out a hand, and Mrs. Garza shook it.
“I am Evangeline.”
“Oh, we know,” Cookie said. “We make out a check to you every—”
“So,” I said, interrupting her before she said too much, “what brings you to our neck of the woods?”
“You. This money. This
tío de tu imaginación
.”
Well that was uncalled for. “I have a couple of imaginary friends,” I said, correcting her, “but my uncle is very real.”
“No,
my
uncle,” she said.
“Does your uncle know you think he’s imaginary?”
Just when I thought she might grow frustrated enough to storm out of the room, she stopped and implored me. “I just have some questions. For him. For Angel,” she said, pronouncing it
Ahn-hell
.
“I don’t know anyone named Ahn-hell.”
Cookie shook her head, too, completely baffled. She was getting really good at this stuff. Of course, she was not lying. She’d never seen the little punk, though I’d described him to her on several occasions. Every time, a starstruck expression would come over her face. She liked the kid. So did I. Usually.
Evangeline held up hand. “Spare me. I know who you are. I know what you can do.”
I kept waiting for the subject of our conversation to pop in. He always seemed to sense what his mother was up to. While I wanted to tell her, to let her know what a great kid she had and how well he was doing, Angel was so vehemently against it, I didn’t know what to do.
“Charley,” she said, leaning in to me, “I insist.”
Maybe if I just explained why I couldn’t tell her. Then again, that would be confirming her suspicions, but I had a feeling she was like a pit bull with a stuffed Elmo. No way was she giving up until everything was out in the open, polyester guts and all.
There was one place Ahn-hell wasn’t allowed. “Follow me,” I said, scooting out of the booth and leading her to the women’s restroom.
“Is he in here?” she asked, kind of appalled.
“No, that’s why we are. He is no longer allowed in the women’s restroom.”
She stilled. I’d just confirmed all her suspicions. All her hopes. Who wouldn’t want to be able to talk to a lost child? I couldn’t imagine what she went through when Angel died. He told me she was devastated. Understandably so. But the thought of the agony she’d suffered tightened around my chest as I watched her face. Every emotion known to mankind flashed across it.
“So, what everyone says about you is true.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. That whole chess-team thing was a big misunderstanding.”
I didn’t amuse her. She was lost in her thoughts. In her hopes and, deep down, her dread. “You can speak with the dead.”
“I can, but only when they want me to, for the most part. Evangeline,” I said, knowing I was going to regret everything I was about to say. Angel was going to kill me. “He doesn’t want you to know he’s … he’s still with us.”
A hand with impeccably finished nails covered her mouth. She leaned against the counter, clearly afraid her legs would give. I let her absorb, mull, and otherwise process everything she was going through. After a long while, she said, “Why—?” Her voice hitched. She swallowed and started again. “Why doesn’t he want me to know about him?”
“He’s afraid you will mourn all over again.”
“All over again? I’ve never stopped.” After a moment, she asked, “Is he well?”
I bit down, not wanting to give her any more information than I absolutely had to. “Yes, he is. But like I said, he is vehemently against me telling you any of this. If he finds out, he will be very angry with me.”
Her chin rose. “It’s my right, Ms. Davidson. I have more of a right to know about him than you do.”
“No, I agree. It’s not me, Evangeline. I don’t know why he—”
Before I could finish, a young male voice filtered toward me, its tone even, calculating. “You did not just do what I think you did.”
He appeared across from me by the women’s stalls. I didn’t know what to say. If I spoke to him, she’d know he was there. He rushed toward me, absolutely livid, and literally wrapped a hand around my throat, pushing me back against the wall. The paper towel dispenser bit into my back on impact, but I let him be angry with me. He had a right. I’d promised him. I’d promised him I wouldn’t say anything. Ever.
“You did not tell her about me.”
Evangeline said something, but it was drowned out by the blood rushing in my ears. He was furious, uncontrollably so.
I felt Reyes, but he didn’t appear with his raging anger like I was worried he would. He revealed himself slowly, methodically.
Dangerously.
I had no idea what he could do to Angel, nor did I want to find out.
Placing my hand on the one he had wrapped around my throat, I spoke softly to Angel, soothingly. “Sweetheart, I know you’re angry. But she figured it out on her own, hon. Just like I told you she would.”
Reyes moved closer and I raised a hand, silently begging him not to hurt Angel.
Angel sensed him. He glanced to the side, applied one last ounce of pressure to my throat, then pushed off me, turning and letting his anger consume him.
“I’m okay,” I said to appease Reyes, but he stayed put right where he was, hovering incorporeally close by.
Evangeline looked on, a slight rush of terror surging inside her.
I held on to my throat and shook my head at her. “I’m okay. I just swallowed wrong.”
“Please stop lying to me, Ms. Davidson.”