Free Grave on Grand Avenue by Naomi Hirahara Page B

quickly clarifies, “I mean, I know that you’re part of the LAPD. You can get me some inside information. So we can catch these guys.”
    “What, like vigilantes?” I smell manipulation, and I’m not going for it. “Listen, I really can’t get too involved. There are policies in place.”
    Fernandes visibly sneers. “Maybe we’re not really related, then. Because no granddaughter of mine would be worrying about some dang policies and all that when we’re talking about people’s lives.”
    That’s a load of BS. “What was the guy’s name again? I’ll give it to the detective in charge.”
    “I didn’t say.” He then grins, revealing a brown front tooth.What do I expect? It’s not like they have teeth whitening in prison.
    This guy—my maybe grandfather—is playing me. I don’t want much to do with him right now. “Listen, I need my car back. I don’t know how you found out where I was living or where the car was, but—”
    “That’s my car. I never said that Estel could give it away.”
    “I’m the legal owner.”
    “Then arrest me,” he dares me. He then lifts Bacall onto his shoulder and makes his way down the street and around the corner, where the Green Mile is parked. The yapping continues until I hear the familiar slam of a car door and the rumble of an engine.
    Shippo and I exchange looks. No way, I tell myself. No way am I going to stand back and let this happen.
    *   *   *
    “Oh, querida , it’s so wonderful to see you.” Lita gives me one of her famous wraparound hugs. “I just got in a few hours ago.” She’s squishy and soft, but I focus on what I’m here for. Even Shippo understands that we are here on a special mission and sits still on Lita’s welcome mat.
    I don’t waste any time. “A man who claims that he’s my grandfather stole the Skylark.”
    Her arms flop down to her sides. “I don’t understand. Here, come in.” Glancing outside, she ushers Shippo and me into her Spanish-style house in San Gabriel.
    My hair is still damp from the two-minute shower that I took before driving over there in my rental. I did make time to swap my glasses for my contacts. Dealing with this requires clear-eyed vision. “This guy who claims to be Dad’sbio-dad came and visited me today. He told me that you have a pelican birthmark on your thigh. And then he stole my car. Again.”
    Lita practically pushes me down in a chair in her living room and stands over me. “How did this happen?” Shippo, a disappointment of a guard dog, sniffs the edges of Lita’s woven throw rug for who knows what.
    “I don’t know. My car was stolen right out of my driveway. No broken glass or anything. He had an extra key.”
    “That son of a bitch.” Lita spits out the words as if they burn in her mouth. She then begins pacing around in a wobbly circle. “How did he know where you live?”
    “So, is it true?” I challenge her. “He says his name is Puddy Fernandes. Is he really my grandfather?”
    More crooked pacing. Shippo joins in, probably hoping this trick will win him a treat.
    “Lita, I can’t stand it anymore. Does any of this make sense to you?”
    Lita takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I knew that he’d eventually surface. But how the hell did he find out about you? And how did he know that you had his car? And where you live?”
    So there it is. This Puddy Fernandes is not a complete liar, at least not about the car.
    “I don’t understand this, Lita. Not one bit. How did thisapparent stranger know that I was a cop? And why don’t I know anything about him?”
    Lita bites her bottom lip. Any evidence of relaxation from an exotic island getaway has been wiped out by this news. “You can’t tell your father any of this. It’ll crush him.”
    My grandmother gets up to make some tea, and I don’thurry her. I know I’m not going to like what she’s about to say, but I’m also curious as hell to find out.
    She makes some of her South African bush tea. She