just as bad as she is. You think because Daddy drinks he’s bad. She doesn’t even give him a chance. You ought to hear the way she talks about him.” She looked toward the couch and lowered her voice to an angry whisper. “He treats me a hundred times better than she does! At least he believes in me. He tells me how smart I am, how pretty I am, how good I am.”
Josie sighed and stared at Javier, his body diminished by a life of alcohol and poverty. He lay on his side, his mouth open, his face covered with several days’ worth of patchy beard. He had a thick head of hair plastered to his head and wore a dirty flannel shirt similar to the one Teresa wore. It was difficult for Josie to imagine what Marta had seen in him, or what possessed Teresa’s loyalty. Was it pity, or simple love for a father?
“You don’t think your mother believes in you? Thinks you’re pretty and smart?” Josie asked.
“What does she say? I’ve embarrassed her again.” She stood up from the bed and faced Josie. “No. That’s not what she’ll say. I’ve disgraced her and her good name. That’s fine. I’ll just live here where I won’t bring her so much goddamned shame.”
She turned from Josie and faced the wall, hands on her hips, her shoulders rigid. Josie ran her hands over her face. She was frustrated, tired, and in a drunk man’s house in a foreign country. She wanted a bourbon and her own bed.
“You know how hard it’s been for your mom to work her way up to the job she has now? A woman serving as a respected police officer in a town like Artemis? There’s a group of men in town who still expect their wives to serve them dinner barefoot. Your mom’s worked her ass off to get where she is, and it wasn’t to prove something to herself. It was to make a better future for you. Then she has to sit back and watch you piss it all away on some drug dealer who’s playing games with your mind. You’re a pawn in his game, Teresa.”
Josie forced herself to quit talking. Teenagers were way past her area of expertise. The last thing she wanted was to make her so angry she would refuse to leave her father. At the same time, she was tired of watching the girl run all over Marta.
Teresa walked over to the candles and stood staring down at the flames. She ran a finger through the fire several times, each time spending longer in the heat. “Half the shit my parents say isn’t even directed at me. They use me to get to each other.”
Josie stared at the girl’s back and could think of nothing to say.
“You know where Enrico went after he got bail? He left. He went to hang out with that jerk at the pawn shop. No ‘thank you.’ Nothing.”
“This is what I don’t get. Who is the one person who stands by you, day after day, and still only wants what’s best for you?”
Teresa turned finally to face Josie. “So, why are you here? Did you come to take me home?”
TWELVE
After Josie and Marta had left for the river, Otto met Skip at the morgue, where he quickly confirmed the body was that of Juan Santiago. Afterwards, Otto stopped back by the office and picked up the absence record for Santiago on Josie’s desk. He stared at the paper, the words a meaningless blur, and allowed his frustration to surface. The timing for Teresa’s escapades couldn’t have been worse. Josie and Marta were both needed at the department to work the murder investigation and to help monitor the growing threat of flooding in Artemis. He couldn’t help imagining what he would have done had his own daughter pulled the same stunt at that age. And, truth be told, he thought Marta needed to yank a knot in the kid’s rope before she ended up pregnant, or worse. But most of all, he was more worried about Josie than he cared to admit to anyone.
He rattled the paper in front of him, trying to get his thoughts focused on the job at hand. He had to get the apartment printed and searched. He called Delores on his cell phone and left a message on their answering machine at home that he would be late for dinner. He finally read the address again, then folded