Page 37 of Return of the Spider
“Shay?” he said softly.
Sampson said, “You knew him, Mr. Costa?”
“You’re sure it’s Shay Mansion?”
I said, “We have a preliminary ID. We’re leaving here to contact his mother.”
“Rosalina,” he said, and all his defensive bluster seeped away. “My cousin. Oh, Jesus. She don’t know?”
“Not yet,” I said.
“Jesus,” he said, wiping away tears with his forearm. “It’s gonna…”
“What?” Sampson said.
“Rip her up. She lost her husband back five years ago. Shay’s her only kid.”
“You two close?”
He shrugged. “Growing up, we were. Our mothers were sisters, and Rosalina and I are almost the same age. We still talk now and then. I help her when I can.”
I said, “She say anything about Shay joining Los Lobos?”
He tightened ever so slightly. “Nah, nah, that I would remember. But you know what? If he was Los Lobos, you don’t want to be talking to me or Rosalina. You want to be talking to that son of a bitch Patrice Prince.”
“From LMC Fifty-One.”
“Damn straight LMC Fifty-One. Bloodthirsty Haitian. Don’t give a damn about life.”
Sampson said, “Wait a second. I thought you said Costa’s not a part of a gang anymore.”
Costa looked like he wanted to punch John now, which would not be a good idea. Built like a brick wall, my friend and partner was six nine, weighed about two fifty, and was capable of sudden and devastating violence when required.
“I am not a part of gang life, but I have ears,” Costa replied evenly.
I said, “What have you heard?”
“You’ll let me go with you to tell my cousin her son is dead?”
I glanced at Sampson, who said, “It’s not a bad idea.”
“Okay,” I said. “What do you know about Patrice Prince?”
“A lot,” he said. “Come in my office and I’ll tell you.”
CHAPTER
26
I trudged home thatevening, feeling emotionally drained but happy that we’d made such strong progress in the fourteen hours since we’d caught the Shay Mansion homicide investigation.
Sampson and I were not entirely sure that Guillermo Costa was walking the straight and narrow.Still,I thought,the guy sure knows a lot about—
All thoughts of the ex-con, the murdered boy, and his shattered mother fled as I reached the front door and smelled a familiar aroma. Before going in, I closed my eyes to savor the glorious scents pouring out. As I opened the door, the river of smells became a wave and then a flood that carried me straight into the kitchen, where Maria was stirring a pot on the stove.
“Daddy!” Damon called from his high chair. His face heldevidence of every item he’d eaten, from applesauce to ground meat to squash.
“Damon!” I cried. I managed to kiss him without getting the remnants of his meal on my chin and went over to Maria. I looked into the simmering pot, put my hand over my heart, and moaned. “Your mother’s secret spaghetti sauce. Welcome back, old friend. Welcome back.”
