Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls #3)(33)

Mac took the basket from her. “So you bring her food.”

“Occasionally. She’s come a long way, and she has no support. No father in the picture ever. Her mother was a prostitute. Gianna started hooking when she was thirteen.” Stella added eggs and bread and a few other staples, then crossed to the prepared food section and selected a family-size portion of fettuccine Alfredo and a chocolate cupcake.

Nice mom. “What happened to her mother?”

“She’s in prison for cooking meth.”

Mac unloaded the items in the checkout lane. “You sure this is enough?”

“She only has a mini fridge.” Stella knew this Gianna pretty well.

After checking out of the store, she drove a few miles and parked in front of a dialysis center.

Surprised, Mac scanned the front of the medical building. “We’re going to question her here?”

Stella lowered the front door windows and turned off the engine. The air was still. Heat began to build in the car immediately. “No. She should be done in the next few minutes. She doesn’t have a car. She lives close and walks to the center, but she’s exhausted when she comes out of dialysis.”

“So you drive her home?” It didn’t surprise him.

Stella squinted though the windshield, her gaze scanning the sidewalk. “If I happen to be nearby.”

Mac bet Stella happened to be nearby as often as possible.

The door opened and a coltish, dark-haired girl stepped out. “There she is.”

“She looks like a teenager.” Mac knew the realities of teens and drug use, and every damaged kid showed him the importance of his reconnaissance in Brazil. Going back to the jungle would be dangerous, but wasn’t the outcome worth the risk? Mac didn’t have a wife or kids to support. Wasn’t it better that he take the risk than a man who would leave a family behind?

The girl’s pallor was sick-pasty, her skinny jeans could have fit a twelve-year-old, and Mac could see the dark circles under her eyes from twenty feet away.

“Gianna’s only eighteen.” Stella opened the car door and got out. They greeted each other with a hug. There was nothing occasional about their relationship. The girl rested her head on Stella’s shoulder, relaxed until she spotted Mac in the car. Then her body jerked straight.

Stella rubbed her arm, leaned close, and spoke in her ear. The girl grinned, and Mac wondered what Stella had said.

As they approached the car, Mac got out and opened the back door for the girl. She gave him a once-over way too mature for her age, then gave Stella an approving nod. “You’re right.”

About what?

Stella blushed. “This is Mac Barrett. We’re working a case together.”

“Sure you are.” Gianna’s tone was amused. “Nice to meet you.”

They all climbed into the vehicle. Mac angled his body to look over the seat. Up close, the kid looked even worse.

“Appreciate the ride,” Gianna said from the backseat.

“Rough today?” Stella started the engine. Cool air blasted from the dashboard vents.

Gianna lifted a bony shoulder in a shrug, then, shivering, she zipped her sweat jacket all the way to her chin. “It is what it is.”

Stella glanced in the rearview mirror. “Any word on the transplant?”

Gianna’s mouth tightened. “Nope. Long list, ya know?”

Mac suspected a former prostitute and heroin addict didn’t exactly soar to the top. People tended to make judgments, and there was no escaping the stigma.

A few minutes later, Stella pulled into the parking lot of a low-income apartment complex. Three utilitarian brick buildings squatted around a weedy patch of grass. Mac opened the car door for Gianna. The girl stepped out, but her legs buckled as she stood. Mac took her elbow. Humiliation and frustration hardened her features as her legs steadied.

“Thanks.” She forced a tough smile on her face. Pulling her arm from his grasp, she walked toward the closest building in a pained gait, as if her entire body hurt.

Mac nodded, shutting the door and then sticking close enough to catch her if her balance gave out again. Stella followed with the groceries.

Gianna’s apartment was partially below ground. The entire unit was the size of a two-car garage and just as damp. They stepped directly into the kitchenette. A window over the sink looked out on the street. A card table and two folding chairs crowded the tiny space. A lopsided sofa, a milk-crate coffee table, and a TV took up most of the living room. A door behind the kitchen likely led to the bedroom and bathroom.

Stella put the milk and eggs in the pint-size fridge, which was jammed under three feet of counter.

Gianna sank onto the couch. Exhaustion lined her face, aging her ten years in the span of two seconds. “Thanks, Stella. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Hungry?” Stella held up the plastic container of pasta. “I brought your favorite.”

“Yeah.” Gianna smiled, her eyes looking watery. With a sniff, she rubbed a knuckle under her eye and lifted her chin. “That’d be great.”

Tough kid.

Stella warmed the pasta in the countertop microwave and delivered it to the girl. She took the food and ate a few bites without speaking.

Mac moved the two folding chairs into the living area and opened them in front of the sofa. A dog-eared book on the floor caught his eye: GED Practice and Review. A single framed snapshot decorated the table: a selfie of Stella and Gianna against a clear, blue sky.