Do Not Become Alarmed(48)

Maria unlocked the door with the key around her neck and blindly put a hand out to stop the shouting voice. It wasn’t Isabel. It was a woman, and she’d been crying.

She pushed Maria’s hand away from her mouth. “Let me in!”

“Shut up!” Maria whispered. “Stop it!”

“They owe me,” the woman whispered back, matching Maria’s undertone. She had dyed red hair and she seemed to be drunk. “I saw you drive in.”

“Who are you?”

“Consuelo Bola?os. They took my husband.”

Maria understood. The Colombian courier was called Bola?os. The widow must have followed Maria in through the unlocked gate. It was such terrible timing that Maria wanted to sit on the stoop and weep.

She heard footsteps on the stairs and prayed it was George. Please, God, let it be George.

He came downstairs shirtless, in pajama pants. “What is this?” he asked.

“Consuelo Bola?os,” Maria said.

“You took my husband,” Consuelo said. “You owe me money.”

But George was looking at Maria. “Why are you dressed?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

He focused on Consuelo again. “How did you get past the gate?”

The woman opened her mouth and Maria stared at her, willing her not to tell him that the gate had been unlocked, that she had watched Maria drive through. But Consuelo didn’t notice. She was preoccupied with her own story.

“You killed my husband,” she said, pointing at George. “I have nothing now.”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” he said.

“My child’s father is dead.”

But George seemed to be listening to the room, to the silence. He held up a finger to Consuelo to wait, then went to the first of the children’s bedrooms and opened the door. Maria felt her stomach clench. Moving faster, he ran to the other bedroom.

“Where are they?” he demanded.

Maria made her voice calm. “Not in bed?”

“Where are they?” he said, his voice rising, frantic.

“I don’t know!” she said. “I thought they were here!”

George turned to Consuelo. “Did you let them out?”

“What?” she said.

Maria heard Raúl upstairs. He stumbled down to the entryway, shirtless in jeans. He had a mark on his face from the fight. “What’s going on?”

Maria could smell the booze on his breath from six feet away, and feel his foul mood. “I don’t know.”

“Who’s she?” Raúl asked, pointing his chin at the woman in the doorway.

“This is Consuelo Bola?os,” George said, his voice rich with meaning.

“Bola?os,” Raúl said, as if it rang a distant bell. Then his face shifted, and he glowered at Consuelo.

“Also the kids are gone.”

“Gone?” Raúl turned his glower to his brother.

“Yep.”

“Where are they?” Raúl asked the intruder.

Consuelo shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“How did you get through the gate?” George asked.

“She was pounding on the door,” Maria said quickly, before the woman could answer.

“Was the door locked?” he asked.

“Yes,” Maria said.

George was clearly trying to think it through.

Raúl was staring at Maria. “I saw the boy talking to you yesterday,” he said.

“About nothing,” she said. “We talked about the bunny.”

“Nothing else?”

She shook her head.

Raúl took a pistol out of the back of his jeans and stepped toward Consuelo. He held the barrel to her forehead, pressed against her skin. Consuelo gasped. Raúl looked to Maria. “Tell me where the children are or I kill this woman.”

“Stop it, Raúl,” George said.

“I don’t know!” Maria cried. If she told the truth, he would go after her son, and he would kill Oscar. The children needed more time to get away. She wished Consuelo hadn’t come. “Please put the gun down.”

“Tell me where they are,” Raúl said.

“Please,” she begged. “This woman has a little boy.”

Maria thought he couldn’t kill the mother of a child. And because of that tiny sliver of decency, because Raúl would let her live, Consuelo would give Maria away, and tell him she had just seen Maria driving through the gate. And then they would know everything.

The report of the gun made her jump. Consuelo’s body jerked and slumped to the terra cotta floor. A red circle bloomed on her forehead.

Maria fell to her knees at the woman’s side.

“What the fuck did you do?” George shouted at his brother. “Why did you do that?”

Maria grabbed Consuelo’s limp hand. It was warm. “I’m so sorry,” she said, sobbing. “I’m so sorry.”

Raúl shouted, “I have to do everything around here!”

“You can’t just kill people for no reason!” George shouted back.

“There was a reason!”

“Oh, what was it?”

“To get Maria to talk!” The gun was against Maria’s forehead now. “Where are the kids?”