Page 100 of The Art of Dying

She smiled. “I remember when you used to love storms.”

“Still do,” I said, returning to the Jeep.

It didn’t feel like an hour had passed since I’d left Vazquez at the pit, but on the dot, a quiet knock sounded at my back door. Out of an abundance of caution, I approached slowly and quietly, side arm in hand and ready.

When I verified it was her and she was alone, I relaxed and holstered my weapon. She greeted me in a whisper and slipped inside, looking around.

“Did you forget to pay the light bill?”

“I’m not supposed to be here. I’m set up in the backroom. I pulled all the pages I’ve already read and set them aside for you.”

She nodded and followed me to the bedroom, looking down at the pages laid flat in order on the floor.

“Left to right,” I said, nodding to the papers.

“You got a flashlight? she asked.

I pointed to an extra one next to page one. “Keep it low.”

“Copy that,” she said, sitting on the floor.

Three hours in, Vazquez took a break to sit up, stretch, and walk around the house for a few minutes. When she got back, she stretched more, rolling her head around and holding her hands behind her back.

“You can go home if you want. I’m sure by now you have someone to go home to.”

She smiled at me as she sat down. “DeAndre is ten, and Mateo is twelve and a half.”

“No shit, two boys? Who’s with them?”

“Michael picked them up from my mom’s when he got off work.” She checked her watch. “He’s probably asleep by now.”

“Michael…?”

“You don’t know him. He transferred to our department from Philly not long after you and Mack got married. I snagged him right up,” she said with pride. “He’s fine, too. Looks like a young Denzel, and the boys look just like him. They’ll be breaking hearts all over this town.”

“Damn. You’re a mom, Vaz.”

“Can you believe it? Because I still can’t,” she said.

We both tried not to laugh, but neither of us could stop it.

“He must be a mean motherfucker.”

She shook her head once. “Biggest teddy bear you ever met.”

The knowing grin on her face just made me laugh harder.

“I didn’t know,” I said as we caught our breath. “For a whole month after she arrived in Cali, Mack didn’t tell me what happened before she left. But when she did, I should’ve called you. I should’ve thanked you. I guess… I guess I was just mad that it wasn’t me.”

“I didn’t do it for a thank you. I do the right thing for strangers every day and rarely do I get a thank you. You think I want one from a friend?”

“Still, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you were there for her when I couldn’t be. I owed that to you a long time ago.”

She raised her chin, only offering a smug smile. “Can we get back to work now?”

I started to answer, but the low rumble of an engine idling caught our attention at the same time. We traded looks, standing and pulling our sidearms.

Vazquez peeked out the blinds, narrowing her eyes. “Black sedan. Newer. Dark tint. Lights off.”

---