offering him any. “We never even talked on the phone. It was all handled by the lawyer and Judge Otero.”

“Judge Otero said he introduced you two.”

“I believe he meant that he introduced the idea to Ashley, and she contacted a lawyer,” she said. Gil found it interesting that she would so readily put words in Judge Otero’s mouth.

“How do you know Judge Otero?”

“We’ve been close friends for a while,” she said with a smile. “We share some common beliefs.” Gil found it hard to imagine that a local politician and this woman would ever even find themselves in the same room together.

“Do you think it’s a coincidence that Bibi disappeared just a month after you sent her back home?”

“No, it’s clear to me that she ran away.”

“Really?” Gil said, having a hard time not using the same tone that Joe had earlier. The more Gil talked to this woman, the happier he was that she never ended up adopting a child. She had no concept of children. A two-year-old could never form the intent it took to run away.

“Of course, it would not have been Bibi’s fault,” she said. “It would have been part of her tamas.”

“Do you know anyone here who has a particular interest in or dislike of the Catholic Church or the Virgin Mary?” Gil asked, not wanting to get back into the tamas discussion.

“No,” she said. “We stress the inclusivity of all faiths. Any talk against another religion would hurt God and therefore hurt ourselves. The path of all is the path of one.”

Gil seemed to have gotten all the answers he needed, so he stood up to leave, his legs creaking. He asked her if she had copies of the adoption papers, and she promised to e-mail them to him. The second such promise he’d gotten today. He thanked her and headed toward the stairs but stopped short.

He turned to ask one last question.

“Do you ever worry that you are creating a cult here?” he asked.

She smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Doubtless, she had heard the question before, although likely it had been phrased as an accusation. “All we are creating is a community,” came the automatic-sounding reply.

Lucy was sullen as Manny hooked up Nathan’s car. The large tow truck had a hard time maneuvering in the narrow street.

“This old part of town sure is tricky,” Manny said good-naturedly as he dropped the tow bar and eased it under the car. He latched a tie around the driver’s-side tire and got in the truck.

Lucy wavered. Her plan had been to say she needed to tag along with Alex Stevens on the pretense that when they dropped the car off, she would have to give Nathan his keys, which she still hadn’t found. That story was necessary just to get her into the confines of the tow truck with Alex Stevens and get him to answer questions. Now that was moot. She could just let Manny take the car over to the Cowgirl, and she wouldn’t have to get involved, but thinking of the Cowgirl made Lucy crave a beer. She decided to get into the cab. She was paying for Nathan’s car to get towed, after all; she might as well get a ride to a bar out of it. She told Manny she was coming along, and he shrugged.

She stepped up the side stairs to the truck’s cab and, using one of the hand hooks in the ceiling, hauled herself bodily inside, just like a little kid would, and got settled in her seat. Manny pulled away from her house, and Lucy surveyed the inside of the truck. The floor was covered in various papers, which were getting crushed under her feet. The center console had more papers, a stun gun, a crowbar, and several wire hangers.

“Where to?” he asked.

“The Cowgirl,” she said. “It’s where he works.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I smoke,” Manny said as he lit up a cigarette. She wondered how he could hold the slender cigarette tightly while wearing heavy work gloves. He looked to be in his late twenties, probably about the same age as Lucy.

“So have you been a tow truck driver for long?” she asked, trying to be friendly.

“About ten years,” he said, exhaling smoke. “I started when I was eighteen.”

“Have you always worked for Alex?” she asked, starting to warm up to the conversation. She could at least pump him for information about Stevens.

“Nah,” he said. “I only help him out sometimes,