Page 24 of Shadows of Justice

And she’s right. What sort of answer was that? I do sound like a shut-in. I guess I’ve completely forgotten how to celebrate. How to have fun.

Their second youngest bounds up to me, her doll in her hand. Her eyes look just like her mother’s—glinting chocolate pudding rimmed with thick, dark lashes.

Carlos will never sleep once this one hits her teenage years.

“Hi, Estrella,” I say with a smile, and she waves at me shyly. “Is that your doll?” Estrella nods. “What’s her name?”

“Isabella,” she says.

Such adorable little voices these miniature humans have. Almost like she huffed a helium balloon on her way over. I guess I can see the appeal of procreation.

“That’s a beautiful name, and she’s a very beautiful doll. She looks just like you!” I say, and Estrella blushes, hugging Isabella in a white-knuckled chokehold that would have smothered it if it was alive.

Sheesh.

“You’re good with them,” Carlos says as Estrella bounds away, and I look up to see them both peering at me.

“You just need the right guy to make babies with,” Estefania says, shrugging her dainty shoulders. “You need to stop dating white boys. You need a Latin man. Someone tall, dark, and dangerous.”

I choke on the margarita and wipe my chin, blinking at the image in my head that she conjured up perfectly.

Someone like Leo.

“I told you, I only like your kids,” I say, gulping down the last of my drink.

“You say that now,” Carlos says, looking out into the yard as his kids play tag. “But you start to realize how it’ll be one day when you get old. Money, power, possessions . . . none of it will matter in those last moments. But those kids, those roots—you’ll be happy you made those choices when that time comes.” He grabs Estefania’s hand and threads their fingers together, and she smiles warmly at him.

I nod, smiling tightly. I know he’s right, I’ve just never felt the strong urge to create a family. It feels messy, a vulnerability to be used against me. The ultimate heartbreak if you lost them. My family was fucked up six ways ’til Sunday, and I would die before I’d make a kid go through that, since it’s the only thing I ever knew. I hardly had a mother, my memories of her consisting of photographs and the odd fragrance here and there that triggers a fleeting sense of familiarity. I’m not sure I could even be a mom if I tried.

Estefania takes my glass from my hand, jerking me back to the moment.

“I’ll make you another one,” she says, and I don’t miss the pointed look she shoots at her husband. He sighs, popping his neck, and shuts the lid on the grill.

Uh oh.

Carlos sits heavily in the lounger next to mine, and we watch the kids play in silence for a while, the string lights hung over our heads flickering on in time with the sunset.

The silence eventually feels loaded, and I have to speak before I go nuts.

“This is a beautiful set up you have here, Los. I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve been by.”

He shrugs. “It’s all right. I know you’ve had a lot on your mind.”

“A lot less, now,” I say, and grin at him, remembering the call from Jennings earlier that made me feel like my life was back on track for the first time in weeks.

Carlos meets my eyes, but he doesn’t smile back. He looks troubled. He takes a long drink of his beer and sighs again, making my stomach clench.

“Okay, out with it already,” I say. “What’s up?”

“Jennings called me right after you did, to confirm the information on your report of the Lewiston case.”

“Yeah, so?”

“He asked me to confirm Sugar’s intel listed in your account—specifically that I heard her say that Mary-Ann took over Frankie’s operation, and had added human trafficking to it.”

I swallow, my breathing shallow.

“W-what did you say?”

---