They walked in the front door of the P.D. and Dena felt her entire body relax. There in the outer office, Irma held Manny tight to her chest. A cop stood to one side, still talking with them. That was a good sign, Manny wasn’t being detained.
Zeke walked over and shook hands with the cop and asked a couple of questions. He put a hand on Manny’s back and smiled at Irma. Irma wiped her eyes but it was a wasted effort. Dena moved closer, slipped her arm through Zeke’s.
“Manny gave us a statement,” the cop said. “It seems he has an alibi. We’ll check it out and be in touch if we have any more questions.”
“Did he have to post bail?” Zeke asked.
The cop shook his head. “No. This was just to record his statement. We suggested though that he doesn’t leave town in case there are any more questions.”
Manny looked over Irma’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming in,” he said.
Dena smiled.
“Did you find out anything about the shooting on my property?” Zeke asked the deputy. “Someone fired at Dena on Saturday morning.”
“Yeah, yeah—” The cop scratched at his neck. “—I was going to call. I did talk with Cyril Johnston again. He said kids were skylarking on the edge of his property, and he’d chased them off.”
“On Saturday?” Dena frowned. She hadn’t seen any kids, or cars, or bikes.
“Cyril said he’d had to get after them a couple of times during the week.”
“Thanks,” Zeke said, and shook hands with the cop. “I guess that’s what happened then, kids hunting.”
Dena walked over and patted Manny’s arm. She knew those were not random shots, they were a warning for her. It was time for a friendly visit to the Johnston property.
“Let’s get out of here.” Zeke held the door open and ushered them all outside.
“Would you rather wait, start work tomorrow, Manny?” Dena asked. “I’m sure you’re a bit shaken—”
“No, I need to work off this anxiety. That’s the first time I’ve been in there.” He shuddered and turned back to look at the P.D. “Now I know how you felt, Zeke.”
Zeke nodded and held Irma’s hand. “It’s no fun.”
“The first time?” Dena asked. She thought he was supposed to be a wild kid.
“Yeah, the cops sometimes stop me for speeding and give me a warning or a ticket,” he said, and grimaced. “Sometimes they’ll ask questions. You know, fish for information on others. But I’ve never been in there before—”
“No speed,” Irma said, and shook her head. “No run loco—”
“Mama, it’s going to be okay…all right?” Manny said in an almost whisper, then he spoke rapidly in Spanish.
Irma’s mouth tightened and she shook her head, mumbling in Spanish. Dena could only imagine what was being said.
“Where are the keys, Mama? I’ll drive,” Manny said. “Do you want me to take you home, or to Three C’s?”
Irma stared at him for a moment. She straightened her shoulders, her chest puffed out. “I go to work.”
****
Dena smiled. They were so devoted to Three C’s.
Zeke watched Manny and Irma walk away, and pushed down on the sadness trying to well up inside of him. He opened Dena’s car door. “Want me to drive?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m good.”
He held the door until she climbed in, closed it, and hurried around to the passenger side. Dena started the car but he felt, or heard, someone rush up behind him. He swung around.
“Cyril,” he said, and offered his hand. “How are you?”
The man was red-faced and out of breath. “Heard that kid was taken into custody.”
Dena lowered the passenger side window and leaned across the seats. Her gaze was questioning. Zeke didn’t want to introduce her, but neither did he want her asking questions. “It’s Cyril Johnston, from West Coast Citrus,” Zeke said. “Cyril this is—”
“Hang on.” Cyril wheezed. “Just need a minute.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his face.
Damn. Dena climbed out, closed the car door, left the car idling. Zeke noticed her eyes shone like the bright blue sky behind her. She walked around the car, stuck out her hand.
“Dena Roman,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Johnston. I’ve heard great things about your company.”
Cyril stared at her, then at Zeke.
“I’m Zeke’s PR rep from Los Angeles,” Dena said, her voice almost a purr. “We’re working on plans for his company image.”
“Oh?” Cyril peered hard at Dena. “I thought you were the girlfriend.” So, word had traveled fast. Dena neither denied nor