Free Endangered Species by Barbara Block

stone blocking my path. “Yes.”
    â€œYoung ones?”
    She nodded again. The sleet was blowing across the porch, wetting and darkening the floorboards.
    â€œYou should consider buying them something. Animals provide wonderful educational opportunities for children. Even something as inexpensive as a hermit crab or a hamster can give them a window into a new world.”
    Adelina’s mother stifled a cough. “This isn’t a good time. You wanna talk, come back later.” Her voice was flat and impatient. It held faint traces of a Spanish accent.
    â€œI understand your eldest daughter is an animal lover. Maybe you can put her in charge.”
    The woman’s breath caught in her throat. “How you know about my daughter?” she demanded.
    â€œAdelina came into my store,” I lied. “She told me you wanted to buy something for your children. You just didn’t know what.”
    Uncertainty danced in the woman’s eyes. “Well, she’s not here now.”
    â€œReally? Where’d she go? Is she off on a trip somewhere?”
    The woman brushed a tendril of hair away from her eyes and frowned. “Yes, She’s traveling.” She nodded toward the inside of her house. “I got her brothers and sisters to take care of.” She began to close the door.
    â€œPlease.” I put my hand on the door and leaned against it to keep it open. “Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking. Just five minutes.”
    She kept pushing. “I got laundry to do. I got dinner to make.”
    â€œIf you don’t let me in,” I blustered, “I’m going to be back here with the police.”
    The door stopped moving. “You ain’t got no right ...” she protested.
    â€œI got all the right in the world,” I informed her. “Your daughter is involved in the theft of a large amount of money.” Not that eight thousand dollars was a large amount these days, but it was still a felony. “Now,” I continued, “my client doesn’t want to involve the police.”
    â€œElazaro.” The woman spat out Eli’s name. “You work for that hijo de puta. He should be ashamed.”
    â€œOf what?”
    â€œOf causing all this trouble.”
    â€œThat’s an interesting point of view, blaming the victim for the crime.”
    Her eyes flashed. “He said bad things.”
    I didn’t ask what. “That’s why I’m here,” I lied again. “He sent me to apologize.”
    The woman opened her mouth and closed it again.
    â€œI didn’t tell you the truth at first because I didn’t think you’d listen to me.” I slid my foot in the doorway, hoping she wasn’t going to slam it shut. “All Eli wants is what’s rightfully his back. He doesn’t care about anything else.”
    The woman tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I got to unpack the groceries,” she said, and she flung the door open and beckoned for me to follow her.
    The heat embraced me as I walked inside the small entrance hall. I unbuttoned my jacket and stepped over and around the coats, boots, hats, gloves, scarves, and book bags strewn on the floor. The living room was on my right. I glanced in. The walls were painted a light green. White curtains hung from the windows. A sofa and a love seat, both in a matching checked print, were arranged around a large, square, wood coffee table that was covered with books, papers, crayons, and toys. Two end tables held lamps and a number of pictures. Three children, two boys and a girl, ranging in ages from four to twelve, were sitting cross-legged on the carpet in front of the television set squabbling with each other while they passed a big bag of tortilla chips back and forth between them.
    The woman paused by the doorway. “I don’t want no crumbs on the floor,” she said.
    The kids nodded. Their eyes never left the TV screen. They