ones?â
âShe slept in them. She and Rosie were tired, didnât want to change.â
âThereâs a jacket and pants, right?â Clarence pushed Carmelitaâs empty sleeping bag aside. He and Janelle began rummaging through everything on the platform.
âWhatâs this?â Janelle asked, dropping the pajamas and picking up a piece of white paper previously hidden by Carmelitaâs sleeping bag.
She squinted at the sheet of paper in the dim light. Her hand and the paper shook. Two words were penned on it in large, plain block letters: âNO COPS.â
Clarence snatched the paper from Janelleâs hand and flipped it over. Other than the two large words, it was blank. The three of them stood around the piece of paper in stunned silence.
Rosie chose that moment to poke her head from her sleeping bag. âUncle Clarence!â She kicked her way out of her bag and leapt into Clarenceâs arms.
Clarence handed the sheet back to Janelle and clasped Rosie to him. Looking over her shoulder at Janelle and Chuck, he unleashed a string of Spanish curses.
Rosie leaned away from him. âWhat did you say?â
â Nada, bambina .â He put a finger to her lips. â Nada importante .â
Chuck took another look at the paper in Janelleâs hand. It had to be some sort of prop made by Carmelita while the girls played in the camper yesterday afternoon. But a glance at Clarence told him otherwise. Clarenceâs face was drained of color, his eyes haunted.
Chuck turned to Janelleâthe look in her eyes matched her brotherâs. Janelle knew what Clarence knew. Her eyes told Chuck something else as well: Carmelita had been kidnapped.
A hole opened inside him, black and bottomless. Carmelita. Kidnapped .
Janelle dropped the sheet of paper to the girlsâ sleeping platform, put a fist to her mouth, and ducked outside. Chuck and Clarence, carrying Rosie, followed. Janelle bent double at the side of the camper and vomited, her hands on her knees. Chuck rested a hand on her back, his own stomach churning.
âWhatâs wrong, Mamá ?â Rosie asked.
Janelle straightened and swiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked at Clarence, who looked straight back at her. Only then did she turn to Chuck, her eyes steely with determination.
âTag,â she said grimly. âYouâre it.â
Chuck stared at her, bewildered.
âMiguel,â Clarence said, his voice hard.
Janelle kept her eyes trained on Chuck.
âMiguel,â she repeated.
N INE
9 a.m.
Chuck waved his hands in front of him and took a step backward. âWait a minute. Wait just one minute.â
Janelle had told Chuck little about Miguel Gutierrez, the father of Carmelita and Rosie. Chuck knew only that Miguel was a small-time drug dealer a few years older than Janelle, that heâd hooked up with her while she was a community college student, that the two had never married, and that Miguel had disappeared from the lives of Janelle and the girls shortly after Rosieâs birth five years ago.
âWhat is it the two of you know that I donât?â Chuck demanded. Rosieâs eyes darted from her mother to her uncle and back. Chuck reached over to rub her shoulder, but she ducked away from him and buried her face in Clarenceâs neck. Hurt, Chuck turned to Janelle. âTalk to me,â he said, his words clipped.
âHe always made threats,â Janelle said. âFrom the very first. âIâll kill you if you leave.â Then, after Carm was born, âYou leave me, youâll never see your little girl again.â I was so scared. Of course I never left. How could I?â She looked plaintively at Chuck. âIt was Miguel, finally, who left us. He swore Rosie wasnât his. He was broke all the time. People were after him.â She paused. âIt was so good when he was gone. Mami and Papi were, like, the best. These last