Speak of the Devil (21 page)

It was Psycho who had stopped a bully from beating the crap out of Gato when he was a scrawny thirteen-year-old. Psycho who’d brought loaves of his mother’s
pan
to school, because Gato was always hungry. Psycho who introduced him to the gang and gave him the only community who cared about him.

They’d known each other almost half their fucked-up lives. Gato barely remembered his siblings in El Salvador. For all his faults, Psycho was the closest thing Gato had to family. He was like a brother—like a father, even. And now he needed Gato’s help.

Gato thought of Señora Zanita’s words. Each day he could choose to be a good man or a bad man. Sometimes, the choice was not a clear one.

Gato tucked the candle and
Santa Muerte
into a drawer, among his socks. Someone had to put in work for the good of the gang. Someone had to be brave.

“I’ll do it,” Gato said. “I’ll kill her.”

31

After just a few days, living in a hotel had become the new normal. Anna learned to use the mini-kitchen efficiently. They kept a semblance of family routine by eating breakfast every morning at the hotel table. At 8:00
A.M.
, Deputy Fitzgerald knocked on their door and walked them to the waiting blue Taurus. After the deputy Marshal dropped Olivia at school and the adults at the U.S. Attorney’s Office, they carried on their days much like before, except there was no leaving school or work grounds.

Jack put Luisa on an extended vacation. “It’s too far to have her commute out to Virginia,” he told Anna. But then he hired another babysitter, a Polish woman who smelled of cooked cabbage and had to commute almost as far. He wouldn’t even tell Luisa where they were staying.

“I think you’re being too hard on her,” Anna said. “I think your suspicions border on paranoia.”

“I’m giving her a paid vacation,” Jack said. “Most nannies would love that kind of paranoia.”

“Just because she’s Latina doesn’t mean she’s affiliated with the gang.”

“I don’t need a lecture on racism from
you
.”

She stared at him. He rubbed his temples, then put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Bear with me.” He pulled her gently toward him, and buried his nose in her hair. She stiffened—but his muscles were even tighter, his breathing shaky. He was barely keeping it together. She returned the embrace. They didn’t talk about Luisa anymore.

Pets weren’t allowed at the hotel. Grace agreed to keep Raffles at her house for the duration. Anna was thankful that her friend was a cat person. She missed having the tabby greet her at the door.

At work, friends started popping by Anna’s office as word got out that she’d been threatened. There were worried hugs, and offers to go get her lunch whenever she needed. Folks stopped by with unrequested coffees, cookies, and sandwiches. A paralegal gave her a whistle to put on her key chain. Anna smiled and attached it next to the pepper spray. She was touched by the show of support from her friends and colleagues.

Jody did her best across the miles. Be safe! Jody texted, before sending the song “I Fought the Law and the Law Won.”

Sam was investigating the case now, and bringing Anna snacks from Sergio’s all the time. With all the food from friends, Anna was afraid she would need a bigger wedding dress.

With the FBI on board, the case was moving with a velocity she hadn’t been able to attain before. The murder of witnesses and the threat to her life made it a top-priority case, reviewed by the front office and political appointees at Main Justice. Anna told them she wanted to charge a federal RICO conspiracy, and she got immediate support for the idea.

On Thursday, Anna and McGee headed to the home of Maria-Rosa Gomez. The house was a small Cape Cod with a neat yard. Sandra Gomez answered the door somberly and led Anna and McGee into her living room. A wallpaper mural of a Roman countryside scene covered one wall. The furniture was heavy, wooden, and elaborately carved. Sandra had a plate of cookies out on the table, and asked if they wanted some coffee. Anna took a cup and McGee took three cookies, which seemed to please Sandra. They sat down on the L-shaped couch.

“Thank you for meeting with us today,” Anna said. “I expect this must be hard for you.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Gomez could not be here today,” Maria-Rosa’s mother said. “He’s working, but . . . he could have gotten out of work. He just finds it very hard to talk about this.” Sandra Gomez looked at her hands. “I know as much as he does, probably more.”

“I appreciate your help. It appears there might be a connection between your daughter’s case and a case that I’m investigating now. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions, and I apologize if you answered these already, years ago. But it might be a big help.”

“I’m happy to talk to you if it might help catch the person who took Maria-Rosa from us.”

Anna asked her some general questions about her daughter.

“Maria-Rosa was a good girl,” Sandra said. “When she was a teenager, she had a bit of a wild streak. But she was still a good student.”

Sandra showed Anna some of Maria-Rosa’s high school report cards—mostly B’s and C’s, with the occasional A. She handed Anna a school yearbook, and pointed to the smiling photo of her daughter.

“She was beautiful,” Anna said. These things were Sandra Gomez’s treasures. The papers, photo albums, and yearbooks were all she had left of her daughter.

“Thank you,” Sandra said. “She got involved with some boy when she was fourteen years old. She started sneaking out of the house, hanging out late. He was in a terrible gang. I told her to stay away from him, but the more I demanded, the more she wanted to be with him.”

“Do you know his name?”

“He went by a nickname. ‘Gato.’ ”

It had to be the same guy.

“Do you know Gato’s full name? Or where he lived?”

“No. That’s all I knew. She would disappear constantly. I called the police, but they wouldn’t do anything till she was gone for forty-eight hours. She would come back, leave again. In a few weeks, she became a shell of herself. She might have been on drugs.

“One day, a kind detective named Nina Flores brought her home to me.” Sandra pulled Nina’s business card from a folder and set it before Anna. “The detective was very supportive. She told me Maria-Rosa had been assaulted and the police were investigating. She told me to talk to my daughter about it, to ‘open a dialogue.’ ”

Sandra’s eyes filled with tears.

Anna handed her a tissue from her purse. “Do you want to take a break, ma’am?”

Sandra nodded and got up. She used the bathroom, then came back a few minutes later. Her eyes were red but dry.

“Maria-Rosa wouldn’t talk to me. She said it was none of my business. I knew that Gato boy had something to do with it, but she said no, he loved her. He would protect her. Three days before she was supposed to testify, she got ready to go out. I tried to stop her, and we had a terrible fight. She left. I don’t know where she went. I never saw her alive again.”

• • •

Gato wasn’t happy to be sitting in the passenger seat while a girl drove. But Buena had a car—at least her parents did. So he was forced to rely on her as he carried out his promise: killing Anna Curtis.

They’d been following the prosecutor since she left her office. So far, Gato hadn’t seen a chance. She was in an unmarked Crown Vic, clearly a police car. The big black man driving it wore a dark suit with a bulge at one side. A gun.

But what really bothered Gato was that the Durango was parked on the curb in front of Maria-Rosa’s house.

Why the hell were they here? Of all the places in the world. He felt sick to his stomach. He hadn’t been back here for four years—not even for Maria-Rosa’s funeral. It looked the same as he remembered it. He tucked his hands under his thighs to hide that they were shaking.

“Are you okay?” Buena asked.

“Shut up.”

Buena lowered her gaze to her lap. Gato felt a stab of regret, but brushed it away. He didn’t care about her. He didn’t need anyone’s sympathy. He looked back at the house.

Four years ago, he came here every day. He’d only been through the front door once. Maria-Rosa’s parents had never liked him. But he would sneak in through Maria-Rosa’s window at night and lie with her. Once he brought her into the gang, things changed. At first, he loved to have her hang out with him and his homeboys. But there were no free rides. She had to put in work like everyone else.

Gato chewed the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. Buena was staring at him again. At least this time she was wise enough not to ask what was wrong. When he met her eyes, she looked away.

He watched the house. The prosecutor and the big police officer were in there for a long time. Gato put his hand on the gun in the dip of his jeans. At some point, the officer would have to leave her side.

“What do we do now?” Buena asked.

“We wait.”

32

CakeLove occupied a cute storefront on the corner of Fifteenth and U Streets. McGee pulled the Crown Vic to the curb in front of it. Through the plate-glass windows, Anna could see the cheerful interior, the Halloween decorations, the bright cases full of cupcakes. U Street was lined with hip shops, trendy bars, and happening music venues. People of every age, race, and color mingled here—glamorous urban hipsters, Section 8 recipients, Politico-reading wonks, wide-eyed Capitol Hill interns fresh from their home states. They sipped Frappuccinos, ate at sidewalk cafés, and tried their best pickup lines on each other. Anna and Jack fit right into this diverse center of their city.

She was here to taste wedding cakes, but she felt drained from a day of talking about murder, deception, and gang violence. She just wanted to go home and sleep. Even that wasn’t really possible, since “home” was currently a hotel room.

“You need to transition from prosecutor mode to bride mode,” said McGee.

She smiled at him. “I wish it was as easy as turning a switch.”

“You got a band?”

“The Bullettes. They’re an all-girl swing band.”

“You got a place?”

“Blown Away Farm. It’s beautiful.”

“Olivia’s got a flower girl dress?”

“Yeah, so cute. White with pink flower petals sewn into the tulle. You should see how adorable she looks in it.”

“There’s the spirit,” McGee said. “You gonna take Jack’s name?”

“Mmm, I’ve been going back and forth. It’d be easier to pick Olivia up from school. It’d be nice to be part of the family. But I’ve been Anna Curtis my whole life. Why should I give up my whole identity for this outdated tradition where the woman becomes property of the man she marries?”

“The woman becomes property of the man she marries? How come none of my ex-wives knew that?”

They laughed. She put her hand on the door handle. “Thanks, McGee.”

“You got a Marshal picking you up?” McGee asked.

“Yep.” She stepped out of the car and walked across the sidewalk into the shop.

• • •

Gato stood in front of the Boundless Yoga studio on U Street, a few shops away from CakeLove. On the other side of the window, a bunch of women on colorful mats stuck their butts up in the air at him. Normally, he would be fascinated by the display, but tonight he was watching the cupcake shop.

He sent Buena home—but he’d made her leave the car. He touched the gun in his pants. He knew it well, had used it over the years to do the necessary tasks for the gang. He would do one more tonight.

• • •

The bell tinkled as Anna stepped into the store. The air was scented with warm cake, melted butter, and cinnamon. Olivia sat on a bar stool at the counter, eating a cupcake from the top down. She had a dollop of pink frosting on the tip of her nose. Anna giggled when she saw it.

Jack turned toward the sound, and a big smile spread across his face when he saw her. “Hello, love.” He came over and greeted her with a kiss. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” After a long day at work, her suit was wrinkled, her ponytail was escaping the confines of the elastic band, and any makeup she’d applied this morning was long gone. It must be true love, she thought, if she still looked beautiful in Jack’s eyes.

He led her to the counter, his arm proudly around her waist. “Anna, this is my friend Warren Brown.”

Warren was a handsome African-American man with short twists and a big smile.

“The beautiful bride!” He reached over the counter and shook her hand. “So nice to meet you. Jack’s told me so much about you.”

“You, too.” Anna was touched. Warren had been a lawyer, then left his law practice to open CakeLove. It had been wildly successful; he’d had his own show on the Food Network. He and Jack were friends from their law school days. The fact that Warren was personally handling their wedding cake tasting was an honor.

“Anna, you’ve got to try the strawberry buttercream!” Olivia held out the half-eaten pink cupcake to her. Anna took a bite from the least-ragged part. It was like a frothy strawberry dream.

“Wow.” Anna pointed at Olivia’s cupcake. “This is it. This is our wedding cake.”

“Well, just hold on,” Warren laughed. “That’s a nice vote of confidence, but you should try a few more.”

He gestured for Jack and Anna to sit next to Olivia at the counter, and then he proceeded to bring out twenty different flavors of cupcakes for them to taste. Jack held out a coconut delight and she met his eyes as she took a bite. Anna felt the stress of the day dissolve, swept away by a sugar rush. They tasted cupcake after delicious cupcake. They each had their favorites, which sparked an impassioned debate about the relative merits of strawberry buttercream, chocolate fuzzy wuzzy, and banana split. So they ordered a cupcake tree—a three-tiered platter heaped with cupcakes of each flavor.

As Warren processed the order, Anna turned to Jack. “Thanks for setting this up,” she said.

“Thanks for coming.” He put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead.

• • •

Gato stood in a dark patch of sidewalk and watched as the woman inside the bright cake shop tasted cupcakes. People flowed past Gato—happy, chatty groups headed to bars and restaurants. They didn’t notice him. In the middle of the crowded street, he felt very alone.