Page 98 of No Child of Mine

“Yeah. The place is falling down around them. Ezra is no farmer. He lived alone for several years, then all of a sudden about five years ago, this woman shows up he introduces to everyone as his sister. Says her name is Clarisse Dodge, a widow with four kids.” Baker swerved to avoid a dog in the road. He didn’t miss a beat. “According to Dodge, she never married the guy—that’s why she’s still a Dodge, he says. Talked to the neighbors on both sides. Also called the high school and the middle school. We got records on twin girls at the high school, Estrella and Esperanza. Got two boys at the middle school, Domingo and Francisco. Funny names, huh? All registered as Dodges.”

“What the neighbors say about them?”

“Quiet. Keep to themselves. The kids stay close to home. No extracurricular activities. The mom lets the girls go to church with a neighbor sometimes. That’s it.”

Twenty minutes later they pulled into the yard. The Dodge house needed a coat of paint. A tired looking Chevy pickup truck sat on blocks in the yard, one tire missing. As soon as they exited from the SUV, an equally tired looking woman trotted from the house, hands tangled up in a dish towel, a scrawny kid about eleven or twelve trailing behind her. “Detective Baker, you back again so soon?” She wrung the towel in her hands. “Ezra’s not here. He shoulda been back an hour ago. I don’t know what’s keeping him.”

“These here law enforcement folks have come all the way from San Antoine to talk to you, ma’am.” Baker had his cowboy hat between his hands. The sun made his bald head shine. “And then your . . . husband.”

Clarisse’s face blanched white. Her hand went to the railing on the steps. “Husband? I ain’t got no husband. You best wait until Ezra comes back. I don’t want to talk to you.”

Alex caught Cooper’s glance. The sheriff’s detective coughed once, twice. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I seemed to have something in my throat. Could I trouble you for a glass of water or maybe a cup of coffee, if you’ve got a pot on? I’m not used to this cold weather.”

She didn’t move.

“It’d be the hospitable thing to do.” Baker slapped his rotund belly. “Wouldn’t want these folks to think we’re stand-offish here in Kansas, would we?”

Clarisse twisted her hands around the dish towel. “ I— okay—well, fine. Detective—Detective Cooper was it? I’ll bring it out to you.”

Cooper coughed some more as he followed her up the steps. “I’ll just come in with you, ma’am. Living in Texas has thinned my blood—can’t take this cold. My colleagues are younger and a lot tougher.”

As soon as they disappeared from sight, Alex turned to the young boy who was doing flips on the porch railing. His shirt and pants were threadbare, and one of his dirty sneakers had a hole in the toe. “What’s your name?”

Alex eased into the porch swing. Deborah leaned against the railing, her back to the boy, apparently watching the road.

The boy stopped flipping and plopped down on the edge of the porch, breathless. “Frankie.”

“Hey, Frankie. I’m Alex. You know Deputy Baker, right?”

The boy nodded and shrugged.

“Where are your brother and sisters?” Baker asked, his voice casual.

“Esperanza and Estrella are looking for eggs in the hen house. Dom’s slopping the hogs.”

“You don’t have any chores?”

“I got a fever. Ma says I gotta stay inside until it goes down. ’Course when Uncle Ezra gets back—” The boy stopped. His gaze dropped to the ground.

“What’ll happen then, when your uncle gets home?” Baker pulled a pack of bubblegum from his windbreaker pocket, pulled out a piece, unwrapped it, popped it in his mouth. Frankie watching, licking his lips. Baker held out the package to Alex. “Want some?”

Alex took a piece and unwrapped it. After a long moment, Baker swung his arm toward the boy. “I don’t suppose you chew bubblegum?”

Frankie snatched a piece from the top. “Well, he don’t set much store by this being sick stuff. He says walk it off, work it off. Otherwise, I’m gonna grow up to be soft. That’s what he says.”

“So what does your dad say?”

“My dad.” The boy’s feature’s froze. “My dad. . . he don’t say . . . he . . . he’s dead. Yeah, he’s dead.” The panic eased a little as if the boy had grasped onto something. “He’s dead.”

Alex blew a big bubble. It popped. The sticky pink stuff covered his lips and the edge of his nose. The boy laughed, Baker with him.

“Frankie, did you have a sister named Nina?” Baker asked the question while Alex picked gum from his face.

Frankie stopped laughing. “I want my sisters . . . I want Estrella. I don’t want to talk no more.” He got to his feet, the panic back.

Deborah stepped in front of him. “Why don’t you stay here with Detective Baker, and I’ll bring your sisters to you.”

“I’ll go with you.” Alex stood and started down the steps.

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