Page 71 of Deadly Evidence
She shrugged, snapped the case shut, and stood up, scooping her hair behind her shoulders. “Guess I was taking a break. Or maybe I just didn’t have the heart for it until now.”
“What was that song called?”
“‘Leise flehen meine Lieder.’ It’s by Schubert.”
“So this is what you do? In school, I mean?” He felt so out of his league that he couldn’t even think of the right questions to ask.
She smiled. “Yes, it’s what I do. I’m second violin in a community orchestra, which is giving me great experience, and I’m a music major. Someday, I hope to play with the New York Philharmonic.”
His mouth dropped open. “What are you doing out here? I mean, I know you help Jonah and wanted to meet Vicente, but why?”
“When my mom died last winter, that was it—I had no one else left. Do you have any idea how lonely it is, knowing there’s no one who cares about you?”
Oh, he had a pretty good idea.
His mother was dead. During his whole two years in detention, he’d never gotten a single card or letter from anyone except his sisters. And he’d never even met his dad.
“When I came across some of Mom’s old papers, I found out about Dominga and Vicente, and I really wanted to meet them. I hoped,” she added quietly, “that I would find lots of relatives out here and that they might enjoy meeting me, too.”
Dante winced, knowing Vicente still hadn’t exactly welcomed her with open arms. Even yesterday, the old guy had just grunted yes and no answers when she’d tried to talk to him.
“Instead, I met a grandfather who is too stuck up to even talk to me.” The disdain in her voice grew. “How weird and pathetic is that? I sure won’t have any good memories about him after I leave.”
Loyalty to the old coot made Dante scramble for the right thing to say, but it also made him careful.
“He’s not what you think. He’s a good man, Mia. He doesn’t talk much, but I think there are...um...some really bad things in his past. Anna knows...she once said he could have been famous.”
“Ha! For what—being incredibly rude?” she scoffed.
Dante liked Mia. Alot. But she also had the power to make him angrier than anyone he’d ever met. He glared at her, his jaw clenched. “Play for him.”
“What?”
“Just do it, Mia. If nothing else, just do it for me.”
“Not on your life. If you think he might come around just because of my talent, then that’s hardly real love for who I am, is it?” Her lower lip trembled, even as her eyes flashed fire. “A lot of my so-called ‘friends’ have been like that, and I can’t tell you how much it hurts.”
She grabbed her case and fled toward the house, leaving him staring after her.
And for the second time that day, he felt lower than dirt.
Brady paced the confines of his bedroom, willing the email to appear. Every few minutes he refreshed his computer screen and held his breath.
The shipment is expected sometime in the next three or four days, Luis had said on the day Brady came back to the Triple R.
It had been a week now without a word.
From out in the kitchen came the familiar sounds of Vicente rattling pots and pans, preparing breakfast.
Lacey was rushing around to get ready for school.
Dante and Mia were probably out there as well—polite to each other but clearly uncomfortable with each other/
And unless she’d already gone outside, Anna would be there as well, keeping everything on an even keel.
Anna. Brady stopped at a window and pulled a curtain back to stare outside. Early morning light bathed the buildings and corrals in rosy hues, the cloudless sky promising another warm day.
Nothing like it would be in a few months when the thermometer would rarely dip below a hundred during the day.
