Page 29 of No Child of Mine

She needed to work. Clinging to the thought, she searched the crowd in the narthex. Samuel stood in front of a window that overlooked the parking lot, talking on his cell phone. The bent of his mouth said the news wasn’t good. He disconnected and stuck the phone in his pocket, his shoulders slumped as he turned and stared out the window.

She approached carefully. “Samuel—Sarge.” He glanced back at her, his gaze revealing nothing. She could never tell what he was thinking. The man had helped her stop drinking and keep her job, yet he’d grown increasingly distant. “Could I talk to you for a second?”

“For a second. I haveworkto do.” The sarcastic emphasis on work was unmistakable.

“I know I messed up, but it won’t happen again.” His face remained impassive as Deborah searched for more words to convince him. “Please don’t put me on leave. I want to help with the investigation into Benny’s disappearance.”

“Sorry, you know the deal. You drink, you’re out. Zero—”

“I know, zero tolerance.” Anger flared. He didn’t get it. She needed to work.

“You’re lucky you still have a job. Don’t you get that?” She caught a flash of fury in his face, even as he kept the level of his voice to just above a whisper. “I went out on a limb for you. And you decide to go on a bender the night of your partner’s wedding? The day Daniel’s foster child is kidnapped? These people are your friends, and they need to be able to depend on you.”

“I know. I know.”

Samuel’s gaze moved over her shoulder. He raised a hand and waved. Deborah glanced back. Piper was working her way toward them through the crush of people. Deborah rushed to convince him. “If you just let me work, I know I can get past it, keep it from happening again.”

“I won’t endanger the officers who work with you—not again.” He shoved past her and took Piper’s hand. “Daniel just called. Shawna Garza is dead. I need to go to the station. Can you get someone to drop you and the kids at the house?”

Piper nodded, but her gaze went to Deborah, the look on her face too knowing.

Deborah swallowed hard and tried to breathe. “You won’t let me help—”

“No.” Samuel turned his back to her and raised his hand again, signaling to Alex, who stood talking to Joaquin. “Guys, over here.”

Deborah let the crowd surge past her as Samuel’s crew converged on him for the latest word. Shawna Garza had been killed the previous evening, presumably by another inmate. Now they had to come up with another way to give the kidnapper something in return for Benny.

She took a step back, then another, until she was against the far wall. Alex glanced her way. His gaze was sympathetic, but a second later he snapped back to what Samuel was saying.

Her mood skidded past longing toward agonizing defeat. She might as well give in.

Mr. Whiskey or Omar. Omar was nice, but Mr. Whiskey danced with her and held her in a warm embrace, whispering in her ear that she was loved, that she could do no wrong, telling her she was safe.

Deborah turned her back on the knot of coworkers who had some place important to go.

She had no idea where she was headed.

Chapter Twelve

Daniel grabbed the papers on his lap to keep them from sliding into the foot well of the Explorer as Cooper accelerated through the prison parking lot. Samuel was gathering the troops at PD back in San Antonio. They’d start hunting down Shawna’s visitors within the hour. With Shawna dead, the names were the only leads they had. One of those visitors knew what game she had been playing before PD busted her and sent her to prison.

Samuel had divulged his own piece of information. Deborah had relapsed. The fact that his brother hadn’t shared that news with him before he left San Antonio irritated Daniel. Once again Samuel had played big brother and made a decision about Daniel’s welfare.

Daniel tried to force the thought aside. Bottom line, Deborah was drinking and on medical leave. The long fingers of guilt poked him in the chest. Did her relapse result from that brief embrace in Ray’s guest bedroom? Daniel couldn’t imagine what he’d done to make Deborah think there might be something between them. He shook his head, caught Cooper’s puzzled glance, and dropped his gaze to the documents on his lap. “Shawna had quite a few visitors.”

“Repeats?” Cooper whipped the vehicle onto the road that led to IH-35 and San Antonio. “We know they weren’t family. Could’ve been business associates. Or a boyfriend?”

Daniel gripped the door handle and tried to read as his body tipped toward the window. Cooper eased up on the accelerator, a slight smile on his face. Upright again, Daniel twisted around and looked at Katz in the backseat. “Do any of these names mean anything to you? Juanita Piedras. Rachel Lowe. Miguel Suarez. Jorge Morin.”

“Oh, sure. All the gangbangers register with me personally.” The narcotics detective slapped a pair of reading glasses on his long nose. “Let me look through our case file—see what illustrious names I can find.”

He studied the folder in front of him, silent for a moment. “Yeah, our Latin King buddies. Miguel Suarez. He’s one of Eloy Barrera’s lieutenants. No wonder Shawna wouldn’t talk when we arrested her. We offered her a deal, but she refused to rat anybody out. I guess she was more scared of them than she was of us.”

“Anybody else on the list ring a bell?”

Katz removed the glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Now I remember—Juanita Piedras worked with Shawna at the donut shop. Another one who wouldn’t crack. I thought sure she was in on it, butnada. Jorge Morin doesn’t register in the memory banks, though.”

“Know where we can find Barrera?”

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