Carmen Morales is a twenty-nine-year-old transwoman who works for an insurance broker in Orange County while attending law school at night. Her grandmother – “Abuela” – summons her back to the Kern County community of Buttonwillow when her padre, who’d kicked her out, has a stroke that leaves him in a coma.

After eleven years in which she only had sporadic contact with the one cousin who knew she was trans (Kelsey), Carmen is suddenly surrounded by them. Old wounds, never addressed, are torn open. But, at the same time, former relationships, cut off without warning, are given an opportunity for healing and rebirth.

Kelsey had been living with Dace Guttierez, the older brother of Carmen’s first crush, Diego. The relationship is both physically and emotionally abusive, but despite Dace putting her in the hospital, Kelsey goes back to him. At the end of Chapter 25, Kelsey is brought to the hospital again, this time with an overdose. Carmen and her brother Ximo race to the hospital, where the first person they run into is Diego, back from Oregon where he had been spending the summer.

For a refresher on Carmen’s family tree, see this post.

Chapter 26: Diego

I hadn’t seen Diego Gutierrez in eleven years. We’d been friends, as chavos, and when I hit puberty my feelings had morphed into my first – and still, to this date, most intense – crush. But after that awful day on the football field at Central Valley High, we’d never so much as said ‘hello’ to each other.

And here he was again. The same strong face. The thick, dark hair and deep-set brown eyes. It was easy to see why Ximo had mistaken him for Dace – they did look a lot alike – but Diego lacked his older brother’s distinct air of laziness and mockery. Before he could tell me why he was at the hospital, we were interrupted.

“Is there a problem here?” A burly, uniformed security guard with a dad bod and a menacing air was glaring at our group – and giving special attention to Ximo, whose outburst had been a clear challenge.

Ximo shook his head, looking dazed. “No. Sorry. My mistake. I thought he was someone else.”

“Isn’t that nice?” The guard stepped closer, getting inches from Ximo’s face. “But if that ‘someone else’ walks through that door right now, are you gonna be a problem for me?”

Ximo opened his mouth to answer, but the door was wrenched open and all of us turned to look.

Innie charged through it, saw us, and skidded to a stop. “Is she okay?”

“I think so.” The answer, surprisingly, came from Diego.

The guard decided he’d had enough. “Alright folks, why don’t you all take this outside?”

“Please – we’ll behave.” I gave Ximo a warning look. “I promise. But we don’t want to leave our cousin.”

Another glare, but he relented. “Fine. But any hint of trouble, and all of you are out of here. That’s the only warning you get.” He spun around and stalked off.

I looked first at Innie, then at Diego. “Can one of you please tell me what’s going on?”

“She said you’re ‘Carmen’ now?” Diego’s expression was hard to read.

“Yes.” I tried to keep my impatience from showing. “We can deal with that later.”

He gave a quick nod in agreement. “Short version – I found her at home when I got there, out cold on the couch, and I called an ambulance. The guy I was just talking to said she was going to be okay, and he’d give us an update soon as they’ve got her stabilized."

I felt myself exhale, even though I had a million questions.

Before I could say anything more, Innie said, “Carmen, so you know. Diego called me, ’cuz he remembered me and Kels were friends. I told him I was calling you.”

“She had to explain who ‘you’ were, of course.” His eyes were still fixed on mine. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

I tried to meet his intense gaze with at least the appearance of calm. “I was hoping to skip the reunion myself. Weren’t you supposed to be in Oregon all summer?”

“That was the old plan. New plan – you’ll be happy to know – I’m outta here for good. I came back to get my shit.”

“Doesn’t matter to me. I’m just visiting.”

“Guys,” Ximo interjected. “Can you two stop glaring at each other? The receptionist is getting nervous again.”

“Over there, people,” Innie ordered, pointing to some seats to the left of the entrance. “Let’s get out of the way.”

Once we were all sitting, she said, “Okay. I can’t believe I’m the one who has to say this, but chill. Both of you. For now, anyway. Diego . . . what happened?”

Diego reluctantly shifted his dark, intense stare from me to Innie. “Dace texted a couple weeks back wanting more money for the mortgage, because Kelsey had moved out.” His shoulders rose, held for a moment, then fell back, defeated. “It was the last straw. We never got along, and I’d gotten an offer for a permanent job with better pay out in the Willamette Valley. So I drove down to get my stuff, but when I got there, the shades were all drawn, and Kels was sprawled on the couch. I spent three years with the Kern County Fire Department; I knew the signs.”

“Was Dace there?” Ximo rumbled dangerously.

Diego shook his head. “No, and his truck wasn’t there either. I don’t know where he’s at, and I didn’t wait to find out. Station 25 is just a block away, and the paramedics were on site within like, three minutes. She had the first shot of naloxone before they even had her on the gurney.”

“She doesn’t do drugs.” I was sure of it.

“I never saw her do any, either,” Diego agreed. “Not once. But . . . that was definitely fentanyl.”

“So Dace gave it to her.” Innie, blunt as always, said what every Morales there was thinking.

Diego’s jaw tightened. “I know Dace’s done some drugs. Weed, mostly. Sometimes other shit. But I never saw him push anything on Kels. Not once. Why would he do it now?”

“I don’t know,” Innie responded. “But, they had a big fight, and Kels did move out.”

“They’ve had fights before,” he argued. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

I pushed back. “Maybe. But this fight ended up with Kels in the hospital, and Dace up on domestic violence charges.”

“What?” Diego looked both startled and worried.

I exchanged looks with Ximo, then took the first crack at answering. “They were fighting, and Dace started beating on Kels. He hurt her arm and her head and broke a rib. Ximo and I showed up in the middle of it and called the cops. That’s when she moved out.”

“And he got arrested?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“God, what a culo!!!” Diego couldn’t stay in his seat; he got up and started pacing, looking agitated.

“You can’t be surprised,” I accused. “It wasn’t the first time.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He gave an angry head shake. “That cochino beat on me for years, until I could defend myself. He wasn’t like that with Kels, but a few months ago they got into it. I wasn’t at home, but I guess after the neighbors called the cops, Kels decided to protect Dace. While she was getting patched up at the hospital, I had it out with him.”

Ximo interjected, “Had it out, like, physically?”

Diego nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, physically. First time I ever straight-up knocked him down.”

“You did better’n I did,” Ximo said ruefully. “If Carmen hadn’t pulled a gun that night, he’d have flattened all three of us.”

Diego shot me a look. “You pulled a gun? Seriously?”

“Yes.” I managed to keep my annoyance from showing. I may not knock people down or beat them unconscious, but I’m not frickin’ helpless!

He shook his head in disbelief, then continued. “Anyway . . . after I forced Dace to listen to me, I warned him about getting into trouble. I thought I’d been clear enough that even he would understand.”

“Understand what?” I asked.

“I was born here, in Bakersfield. But Dace was born back in Sonora. He’s a DACA baby.”

“Oh!”

Innie cocked her head. “So, if he’s convicted, he’ll get deported?”

“Probably,” Diego confirmed. “And that’s after serving whatever sentence he gets for the crime.”

“Good!” Ximo looked pleased.

Diego didn’t respond.

Just then an interior door opened and the man in the lab coat came back out. When he saw Diego, he came over. Innie, Ximo and I got up.

“What’s the word?” I blurted out.

The man gave me a look, then turned his attention back to Diego. “She’s stable; the third naloxone hit seems to have done the trick.”

Thank God! “Is she awake?”

He looked at me again. “I’m sorry – you are?”

“Kelsey’s cousin.” I indicated the Morales grouping with my hand. “We all are.”

“Okay.” He looked back and forth between the four of us. “She’s sleeping right now. The naloxone counteracts the fentanyl, but with the amount of alcohol in her system she’s going to be out for a while.”

“Can we see her?” I didn’t want Kels to wake up and not have someone there.

He shook his head. “She’s being moved to a regular room, and visiting hours ended at 8:00. You can come back in the morning; she won’t be discharged before that.”

However reluctantly, we went outside, where the sky was still light, but the sun had set.

Innie looked at me, then at Diego. “I owe you. We owe you. But we got some hatchets that need burying.”

I wasn’t remotely sure I wanted to do anything of the sort. “Innie –”

She shot me a look. “Now, Carmen.”

Diego said, “Shit, I been on the road all day. I need to crash.”

“What are you all talking about?” Ximo asked, bewildered.

“Unfinished business,” Innie replied, before turning her attention back to Diego and me. “You two are pussies. Let’s get a bite and take care of it.”

Ximo looked at me. “You need me for this? I don’t want to leave you hanging, but I gotta be at work at 7:00 tomorrow.”

I discovered, to my surprise, that I would have felt better – safer – with him there. “You’re working on a Saturday?”

He shrugged. “We had a state inspection this past week, and they gave us a punch list of shit that needs to be done.”

“Got it.” I gave Innie an apologetic look. “My car’s at his place, so I need to go with him to get it.”

She shook her head. “Nice try. I’ll drive you back afterwards. Your house is like a minute from mine.”

Of course it is. And why? Because Buttwipe, that’s why. I closed my eyes briefly, before glaring at her. “Fine. You win. Sounds like a frickin’ fun time.”

“Let me guess; you’d rather wash your hair.” She grinned evilly. “I owed you one, after you and Kels ambushed me last time.”

Diego crossed his arms. “I still haven’t agreed to go anywhere.”

“No, but you will,” Innie said confidently.

“Why?”

“Because I said so, and you know what a bitch I am.” If anything, her grin got more evil.

He glared at her, but couldn’t make it last. “Fine,” he chuckled. “I don’t need no crazy lady comin’ at me with whoop ass in her eyes!”

Ximo gave me a worried look. “You sure you’ll be alright?”

“I’ll be fine.” I gave him a hug – a really big one. “Thanks, ’mano.”

He looked puzzled. “What’s that for?”

“’Cuz you’re a hero.” I smiled.

“Huh?”

“Just trust me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow after work, okay?”

He walked off, shaking his head, a bemused look on his face.

Since it was already 8:30, our best bet for real food was a sports bar Innie and Diego both knew. Fifteen minutes later we were sequestered in a high-topped booth, having already ordered food and beer – Innie and I on one side, Diego on the other.

Diego looked resigned. “Alright. Let me have it.”

Innie gave him one of her direct looks and said, “I’m really glad you called me, but I’m super surprised. You had to know I never forgave you for the way you treated Carmen back in High School. I’ve barely seen you since graduation, and we live in frickin’ Buttwipe.”

“Back in High School, it wasn’t ‘Carmen,’ was it?” he challenged.

My anger spiked. Really? Are we REALLY going to go through this all again? With considerable effort, I kept my hot response bottled in.

That wasn’t Innie’s way. “The name’s not important. The person is. And you treated that person like shit.”

I was either going to explode in fury or die of embarrassment, and neither option looked appealing. “Innie,” I said abruptly, “I appreciate your support. Always have. But we’ve got more important things to think about.”

“No, we don’t,” she insisted. “There’s nothing we can be doing for Kels right now.”

I kicked her under the table.

She ignored me.

“This isn’t fixable and it doesn’t have to be fixed,” I said, straining to be patient. “He’s got a life up in Oregon, I’ve got one in Orange County.” And that’s just fine by me!

I broke off as our server appeared to distribute the beers.

When he was on his way, I made another effort to shut things down. “High School was forever ago. We don’t have to do this.”

“Bullshit.” Innie glared at me. “Diego was your friend, just like I was. Don’t tell me that doesn’t mean anything to you!”

I returned her glare with interest, thinking, Yeah, he was my friend – and he stabbed me in the back so hard the knife popped out my chest!

Diego looked from one of us to the other, weighing the emotions that were swirling, uncontrolled. Finally, his eyes settled on the instigator. “Innie, what do you want me to say?”

“How’s about an apology? You were a pinche pendejo.”

“He does not need to apologize!” I snapped, in no mood to take some sort of forced admission of error. He frickin’ WANTED to hurt me!

“It’s okay,” Diego said, cutting off my protest. “Look, this whole sex change thing . . . I don’t know. But, yeah. I’ll say it. I was a pendejo. I look back, and I don’t even know what I was thinking. Why I ever cared what people like Tomá Reyes or Santi Salazar said about me.”

“That was it? Just impressing the chavalos?” Innie sounded seriously unimpressed.

He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Yeah. Pretty much.” His eyes moved from Innie’s to mine. “And, yeah. Okay. I’m sorry. For all of it.”

My response was instant: “Da nada.” But my brain was whirling. Yes, he wouldn’t have said anything without Innie’s prodding. And yes, I hadn’t seen him in over a decade and it had been longer still since we had been friends. But I knew Diego Gutierrez. What he was like when he was talking trash, or joking, or saying whatever. What he had just said? That had been genuine. He hadn’t sugar-coated his discomfort with my being trans, but the apology had been real.

Innie didn’t buy what my verbal autopilot had barfed up while I was processing Diego’s words. “It wasn’t ‘nothing!’” she retorted, sounded exasperated.

“No,” I agreed. “It wasn’t.” The hurt had been real, and deep, and it was still there. But his apology mattered. Mattered enough that I knew – in my brain at least – that I should just accept it and move on. So I added, “It is now, though.”

I looked Diego straight in the eye and extended my hand across the table. “I’m Carmen.”

He hesitated a moment before taking my hand and giving it a cautious shake.

“I promise I’m not contagious,” I said dryly.

His handsome features flushed. “It’s not that. It’s just . . . you know, it’s so freaky seeing you, looking like this, and knowing you used to be the wey I grew up with.”

“I’m the same person I’ve always been. I just had to hide it, back then.”

Innie scooted out of the booth. “I’ll be right back. Gotta take care of business before the food arrives.”

His eyes followed her until she was out of earshot. “I don’t get it.” He looked uncomfortable. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be a dick. But, like, you were a dude.”

I took a deep breath, trying mightily not to sigh. “Not where it counts the most – which is actually between the ears, not between the legs.”

“So you thought you were a girl?”

“No.” Again I wanted to snap at him for his obtuseness, and again I fought the instinct. Instead, I said, “I knew it. In my head, in my heart. In my soul. Just like you know you’re a man. What I saw in the mirror – what you saw, when you looked at me – it didn’t match who I am. There’s no way you could have known.”

“Maybe.” He took a long drink before setting his glass down. “Maybe. Mostly, even. But there was something I left out, earlier.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe I did see who you were, some. I mean, I wasn’t just worried about what the compas thought – Tomá and Santi and the rest. There was more to it. We’d been friends forever, and suddenly I was reacting to you like you were a girl. And I was like, am I gay? I was sure I wasn’t. Sure of it. But I was freaked out, you know? So when the guys started making jokes about it, I . . . well. You know what I did.”

His earlier apology had been real, sure enough. But incomplete. He’d been frightened by his reaction to me? That . . . actually made some sense. I had a sudden, strong, desire to just get it all out on the table and put it behind me. Put it behind both of us.

“Yeah. Well . . . .” I found myself looking into my own beer glass, worried about confessing the truth. It’s been fifteen years, for fuck’s sake! What can he do to me? “I reacted to you like any other fourteen-year-old-girl would. I get why that freaked you out.”

His brow creased. “Wait. Are you saying you . . . ?”

“Had a crush on you?” I could feel my face flush with embarrassment, though my coloring probably hid it from view. “Yeah. I almost told you once, but . . . .” I shrugged.

“But I turned away, before you had the chance.” I could see the realization hit him. “That evening out on Iguana Hill, right? When we’d gone out with the BB gun, and we caught the sunset?”

My eyebrows shot up half-way to my hairline. “You remember that?”

“It was like I knew what you were going to say. Almost like you’d already said it. And I didn’t . . . couldn’t deal with it.”

I had come so close, that day. I guess I’d always wondered what would have happened. I smiled ruefully and said, “Just as well I chickened out. You had the bike, and it would have been a long walk back.”

“I wouldn’t have left you there . . . . At least, I hope I wouldn’t have.” He looked uncomfortable.

I kind of doubted he was right about what he would have done. But to my surprise, that wasn’t what mattered to me at this point. What mattered was that we’d finally talked about it honestly. My smile felt both warmer and less sad. “Water under the bridge. There’s just no way either one of us were capable of having this discussion when we were fourteen.”

“I’m having trouble enough talking about it now,” he agreed with a chuckle. “I am sorry, though. For being such a shit.”

The memory flashed again – the one that had haunted my dreams all these years. Spinning around and around, Diego’s hands tearing the fabric of my shirt. The ugly, contorted faces of our friends – his friends – jeering at me. The words, chosen with intent to wound. To destroy. The memory was still there; still sharp. The sights and sounds. Even the smells – Fresh-cut grass, warm Gatorade, adolescent male sweat . . . and fear.

But somehow, clear as the memory was, the hurt and the pain were no longer there. It was just something unpleasant that had happened, a very long time ago. “Thank you,” I said. “I didn’t want to talk about it, but . . . I’m glad we did.”

Innie arrived back and plopped into the seat next to me. “What’d I miss?”

Diego smiled. “I’ll never tell.”

“I can still beat on you,” she threatened.

“Promise? That might be fun.” The smile turned into a challenge, all pearly teeth and dimples.

Innie broke off, laughing. “Score one to you.” Looking my way, she said, “You two good?”

I looked at Diego. “Yes. Consider the hatchet buried.”

“Gracias,” Diego replied. “Finding out you’re trans – I mean, I guess it does explain a whole lot of things. I wish I could say it would have made a difference if I’d known, but . . . being honest, I doubt it would have.”

Innie snorted. “Yeah, well . . . if you were worried about what Tomá thought, that cochino definitely would have freaked if he’d known she was trans. He’s still freaked out about it.”

“He knows?”

I nodded. “We had words the last time I was up. He hasn’t improved with age.”

“No,” he agreed. “I still see him now and then. Even have a drink. But . . . I mean, he’s like everything about this place I want to get away from.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Innie said, with a certain fervour. “You’n me both.”

“Really?” He asked, giving her an appraising look.

“Yeah, really. Just trying to figure out where to go at this point. I’ve been leaning toward the Bay Area or maybe Seattle. I hadn’t thought about Oregon. You like it?”

“I do – mostly ’cuz it’s not here, know what I mean?”

“Oh, yeah!”

“I mean, it’s not crazy different. I’m living in Dundee, which is maybe twice the size of Buttonwillow, but it’s still an ag town. And it’s about a half hour from the city, too, but Portland’s nothing like Bakersfield.”

“Huh. Maybe it’s worth adding to my list.”

“You should. I’m sorry I didn’t get out sooner.”

“Why didn’t you?” I asked, curious despite myself. “I mean, if you and Dace didn’t get along, why share a house with him?”

“We kind of fell into it,” he explained. “Pop and mom never got their immigration status fixed. I was still living with them, back in 2017, working the rose farms out in Wasco. Pop got in a car accident and the cops turned him over to those ICE cochinos. So he got deported and mom went with him. Dace moved back in so the two of us could cover their mortgage; we figured they’d be able to get back in after a year or two. But they haven’t, and I don’t think they will.”

I shook my head. “Your folks were here, what? Twenty years?”

“Yup. Twenty years, no issues, not even a parking ticket. Then, boom, and next thing, it’s ‘hasta la vista, baby.’” He gave me a curious look. “I get why you didn’t stick around after high school. Even without being trans, you belonged here about as well as, I don’t know. Maybe a dolphin? What I don’t understand, is why’d you come back?”

I was surprised, since I’d been coming up on extended weekends for a month now. “Don’t you and Dace talk at all?”

His answer was abrupt. Final. “No.”

“Oh. Well . . . my padre had a stroke in mid-June, and my Abuela asked me to come up and deal with his care issues.”

“Ah. . . . I’m sorry.” He had that embarrassed look I was getting used to seeing. My lengthy separation from padre made it hard for people to guess how I might react to words of condolence. He quickly moved on. “It takes a while to come back from a stroke, doesn’t it? Are you planning to stay that long?”

I shook my head. “Not a chance. I’ve just got the first shift, sort of. Ximo’s going to take over once I get all the MediCal and disability mierda cleaned up. As it is, I’m only up for a couple days here and there.”

The waiter came with the food and got everything on the table.

“Thank God,” Innie said. “I was dying!”

Diego ate with almost as much zeal as she did; I’d had a good lunch so I wasn’t in nearly as bad shape. I ended up doing more talking, though, since Diego wanted to know what I’d been doing with myself since I left. Once again, I kept my descriptions vague. Kels and Innie knew the whole story – the bad parts and the sad parts and even the crazy parts – but I didn’t see any reason why Diego needed more than the highlights.

Even those, however, proved to be show-stoppers. “You’re going to frickin’ law school? Jesus!”

“I didn’t think I’d make it as a construction worker,” I quipped.

That made him snort beer through his nose. “No shit,” he said when he stopped coughing. “But . . . why law school?”

“I’ve got this burning desire to save the world?”

Diego looked appalled, and Innie said, “I’m gonna throw up in my mouth.”

I giggled. “Yeah, got it. Truth is, it pays better than what I’m doing, and I think I’d be good at it.”

“Thank God,” Innie said. “You had me worried there for a minute.”

As we finished up the meal – nothing to write home about, but decent, and it did the job – I brought the conversation back to the present. “Diego . . . do you have a place to stay tonight, other than your house?”

“Why would I need one?”

“You don’t know what Dace has done, or what he might know, or even where he is. If you’re going to have some sort of confrontation with him, wouldn’t you rather have it during the daylight?”

He shook his head. “Not worried about it. He’s trouble, but after last time? He knows better than to fuck with me.”

“Well, if you say so.” His attitude struck me as owing too much to bravado, but he was a big boy. For sure, he didn’t need me to look after him!

We paid the check and headed out. I hopped in Innie’s car for the drive back to padre’s house, and Diego followed.

As always, she got right to the point. “Say ‘thank you, Innie.’”

“Thank you, Innie,” I parroted dutifully. “Can I ask you something, though?”

“Maybe.”

“Why am I thanking you? Other than just on general principles?”

“’Cuz without me, wiseass, you’d still be stuck at ‘all that stuff’s ancient history’ and ‘no biggie.’ Which was bullshit and you know it.”

“Would not.”

“Would so!”

I chuckled. “Okay, you got me. But seriously, a hammer isn’t the solution to every problem.”

“You know what I do when it isn’t?”

“I don’t know – I can’t actually imagine you having a Plan B.”

“There’s always a Plan B. If a hammer doesn’t work . . . I get a bigger hammer!” She smiled broadly, then checked her mirror. “He needs to lower his headlights; those frickin’ trucks are a menace.”

“Don’t take a hammer to them; we’re only just getting along again.”

“With my luck, he’ll be behind us the whole way home.” She punched her accelerator. “Eat my dust, Diego!”

I shook my head as I saw him take the bait, accelerating in her wake.

“Not tonight, bad boy,” she chuckled.

“Try not to get us all killed, okay?”

“Sure, sure.” She shot me another look. “So, you two are, like, buds again?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. But we’re okay.”

“I was wondering whether you were gonna suggest he stay with you at the motel.”

“Innie!”

“I’m serious. You said you crushed on him.”

“You may be serious, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t loco!” Before she could interrupt, I said, “He wasn’t interested back when and he’s not interested now.”

“You sure about that?”

I nodded. “He’ll always see Carlos when he looks at me. Or at least, mostly Carlos.”

“Yeah?” She gave me a another quick glance before turning her attention back to the road. “But how do you feel about him?”

I thought about it . . . hard. Finally, I said, “It’s complicated. Like I told you that night at Kels’ house, in some ways, Diego hurt me worse than padre did, because I expected more from him. I lived with that for a long time – it was like that betrayal became part of me. Part of who I am.” I shook my head. “But tonight I was finally able to see that he was just a kid, trying to figure out how to be a man.”

“You didn’t feel any kind of spark?”

I felt something, for sure. But it wasn’t anything like what I’d felt as a love-sick adolescent. Instead, it was a lightness of spirit. It was liberation from the hidden shame of wanting, desperately, to be desired. It was healing from old, untended wounds.

It was freedom.

I shook my head. “No. No, I didn’t.”

“Huh.” She turned her head to look out the driver’s side window.

The lights were all out when we pulled up to padre’s house. I thanked Innie, then hopped out, but before I’d taken three steps toward my car I was caught in the headlights of Diego’s truck as he pulled up beside Innie and rolled down his window. “Not bad, girl,” he grinned.

“Stayed ahead of you,” she taunted.

“I went easy on you.” He looked my way. “Goodnight, Car—”. Just like that he stopped, and his smile vanished. “Carmen, hold tight. Is that your car?”

“I know, I know! But the Kia’s been good to me!”

He shook his head impatiently. “No. Someone slashed your tires.”

As I spun to look, he pulled ahead of Innie and jumped down from his truck.

Innie got out of her car as well. “That pinche cochino!”

“Let me just see if he’s anywhere around the car,” he said.

“Fuck that!” I said, suddenly panicked. “Ximo!!!” I sprinted to the front door and tried the nob. Locked!

Innie and Diego were right behind me. He said, “Wait, would you?”

I pounded on the door. No answer. Without waiting, I sprinted around back so I could get in the sliding window that never latched properly.

Diego was right behind me.

As we came around the back, though, I saw the lights go on inside. Ximo was heading toward the front door.

Fortunately, Innie hadn’t chased after me, so she was there when Ximo opened the door. She was explaining what happened when Diego and I came back around to the front.

Ximo nodded our way as we came up to the door, then answered Innie. “I’d swear it was fine when I pulled in. But seriously . . . I was so tired I wasn’t really looking.”

“You didn’t hear anything, since you’ve been home?” I asked.

“No, but I’d have slept through it if he’d used plastic explosives.”

I shivered, thinking about Dace wandering around in the dark with revenge on his mind. “Shoulda listened to Officer Braddock and gotten that backup handgun.”

“Might be a good time to call him,” Innie suggested.

“Look,” Diego interjected. “I don’t mean to be running interference for my brother, but is it possible someone else did this?”

I shrugged. “Could be. I’m not the most popular member of clan Morales, after all.”

“Bullshit,” Innie said hotly. “Of course it was Dace!”

I agreed with her, but . . . “I’d think the sheriffs will need some evidence.” I thought for a moment. “Probably still ought to call it in, though.”

To my surprise, Diego nodded. “Yeah, you should. Whether Dace did it or someone else, they need to know sooner rather than later.”

I made the call and dispatch said someone would be on their way. Then I looked at Ximo. “If it is Dace, you and me could both be targets, and this place isn’t exactly Fort Knox.”

Ximo groaned. “You’re killing me! I have got to get some sleep!”

“Let me call the Motel 6 and make sure the room they’ve got for me has two doubles. You can sleep there.”

He grunted an unhappy agreement.

I made a call and got Monica at the front desk. Like some of the staff at padre’s hospital, we’d struck up an acquaintance during my visits. When I’d identified myself, she said, “Hi Carmen! We expected you hours ago!”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “One of those days.”

“Girl, I know what you mean,” she said sympathetically. “Did that boyfriend of yours catch up with you? I’m wicked jelly!”

My mind blanked. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, he came by earlier to drop off some flowers for you.”

I felt a chill go up my spine. “Really? What did he look like?”

“Oooh! — you got more than one, huh? Your age, maybe a bit older. I’m not good with height, but I’d guess six feet, maybe a bit more. Good looking, you know? Well-built. Hispanic . . . .”

“¡Mierda!” I swore. “When was he there?”

“Hours ago!” Her cheerful teasing stopped on a dime. “Carmen, what is it? What’s wrong? He said he wanted to surprise you with the flowers . . . .”

Fuck, fuck, fuck!!! “Did he stay around?”

“No. I told him you hadn’t checked in yet, so he asked me to give you the flowers when you showed up.” Now she sounded scared.

“Okay. Look, Monica – the guy you’re talking about is not my boyfriend. If he shows up, just tell him I’m a no-show, okay?”

“Okay,” she stammered. “But, I mean . . . is he dangerous?”

“Not to you, he shouldn’t be. But I am going to stay somewhere else tonight, okay? And . . . I’m going to talk to the sheriffs. They may want to get your statement.”

“I think I need to call my boss,” she said nervously.

“I’m really sorry, Monica. I’ll be in touch.”

I ended the call and filled in my three companions.

“For sure, the description could be Dace,” Diego said. “But could it be anyone else?”

I shook my head. “I mean, the description could match AJ or Jesus, I suppose, but they wouldn’t do it. Paco doesn’t look older than me, and no-one would describe him as stocky.”

“Or good looking,” Innie snarked.

I added, “Uncle Angel might be another possibility, but he’s too old.” Absurdly, I suddenly thought of Andar Kasparian. But Monica said the guy was Hispanic, and Andar looked as Armenian as his last name. Anyhow, he wouldn’t be bringing me flowers.

Ximo said, “That all makes sense I guess. But why would Dace come after Carmen?”

Diego gave him a puzzled look, like he’d missed something obvious. “She pulled a gun on him and you guys called the cops.”

“Yeah, but they already have her statement. And the video I took. What good would it do?”

“Revenge,” Diego said without an instant’s hesitation. Like one who knew from hard experience just exactly what he was talking about. “That’s all he’s ever needed.”

“Why now, though?” I asked. “I’ve been up a couple times since that night.”

He shook his head. “No idea.”

“First time I met him, I thought he was just a pot head, you know?” I shook my head. “I mean, kind of lazy. Kind of fuzzy.”

Diego grimaced. “Weed’s actually good for him. Chills him out some. Without it, though, he can be normal, or hyper, or decent, or over-the-top angry. It’s hard to predict.”

“He sounds bipolar,” I said.

He shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows?”

“And you still stayed around?” Innie sounded baffled.

“I know, right? But Mom and Pop . . . they wanted me to help him. And they didn’t want to lose the house. They’d been paying on that thing for twenty years. I just can’t do it anymore.”

A black SUV pulled up and a man and a woman wearing the uniforms of the Kern County Sheriff’s Office stepped out.

I didn’t recognize either one of them.

The older officer – a compact Black man – spoke first. “Carmen Morales?”

“That’s me,” I said. “This is my brother Joaquim, my cousin Inés, and Diego Gutierrez.”

“I’m Officer Donaldson, and this is Officer Cacy. Suppose you tell us what’s going on?”

We explained about Kelsey, and the slashed tires, and the strange man looking for me at the motel. They heard us out, then Officer Donaldson said, “I’ll need to speak to that woman – Monica? – but if she can ID the guy who was asking for you, I’d say we’ve got probable cause to bring him in for questioning. Donna, you got what you need for the APB?”

His colleague nodded. “Yup. On it.”

They got our statements and took pictures of the car. Officer Cacey inspected the front door of the house and asked whether we’d touched the knob recently.

“I did,” I confessed.

She grunted, then pointed at a lot of scratches around the keyhole. “Are those new?”

I shook my head. “No idea. Let me ask Ximo.”

He wasn’t sure either. “They could be new, or it might be . . . .” His voice tapered off.

Officer Casey prodded, “Might be what?”

He looked embarrassed. “Well . . . padre’s not real accurate with the keys, sometimes. Know what I mean?”

Ah. “You mean, when he’s been drinking?” I asked.

He shot a guilty look at the woman in the uniform. “Yeah.”

Once they had everything they needed from us, including a couple photos of Dace to use when they spoke to Monica, Officer Donaldson said, “Look, until we locate him, you all should assume he’s dangerous. Keep your eyes open. If you see him, avoid him. Break up your usual patterns so he doesn’t know where or when to find you. Understand?”

I nodded. “Got it. We’ll stay somewhere else tonight. Not here, and not the Motel Six.”

“Good start,” he said approvingly. “You see anything, call us. If we get anything, we’ll let you know.” With that, they got into their cruiser and left.

Diego had cooperated throughout the Sheriff’s questioning. I gave him a look that was both grateful and full of regret. “I’m sorry about your brother. Even if you don’t get along, this has got to be brutal.”

His intense eyes followed the lights of the cruiser, then turned back to me. “The way you and Ximo are? The way you have each other’s backs?”

“Yeah?”

“We were never like that. And we should have been. Mom and Pop are going to take this real hard. But I’ve been trying to tell them for years. That dude’s just bad news. You got nothing to apologize for.”

Innie looked thoughtful. “Diego — you should think again about staying at your house.”

“He doesn’t even know I’m involved in any of this!”

“You don’t know that,” she said sharply. “He could have checked with the hospital. Anyway — he’s out there somewhere, doing dangerous shit. Why don’t you crash at my place tonight. We’ve got a couch, and my ’rents will be cool with it.”

He thought about it for a minute, then reluctantly agreed it made sense. The two of them refused to leave until Ximo and I took off. I did some quick searching online and found a cheap(ish) hotel in South Bakersfield while Ximo drove. We even got a cut rate, since the room would otherwise have been unoccupied for the night.

Once we were checked in, I collapsed on the double bed furthest from the door, and Ximo crawled into the closer one. “You know,” he said as he shut out his light, “my life was a shitload simpler before you showed up.”

— To be continued

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