The Bones of Texas City, Page 2

Victory Baptist... tithes and taxes paid in full.

  I wondered if he had any idea what kind of shitstorm was coming.

  I’d have to write the kid up for contact with an Undocumented Person, and that’s only the start. The Anderson family would soon get visits in the middle of the night, bad guys with guns pushing their way in and taking whatever they wanted, food or water or worse. Once you’ve been cited, even for something relatively minor like aiding an Undoc, it’s open season on your dumb ass. If the Andersons were smart, they wouldn’t report it; reporting it would only make it happen more often.

  That’s the gift Benny was giving his family. All for a chance to pork a girl with no name.

  She’d have no card to give me. I knew all she had were the blanket wrapped over her front and that locket hanging around her neck.

  “What was your name?” I asked.

  She didn’t answer, her gaze bent down and to the side.

  “There’s no point in keeping it from me. We’ll still have your DNA on file.”

  She didn’t look up at me, but slowly she started to speak. “Emilia Sanchez.”

  Emilia. I’d always loved that name.

  “What crime did you commit?”

  “I’m innocent.”

  “Whatever,” I said. I didn’t have time to waste. “Tell me the reason for removal.”

  “My parents were cited for hoarding.”

  “Then you’re held responsible too.”

  That made her look at me. “I know that,” she said, more irritated than angry, and not nearly as frightened as I’d expected. “They didn’t do anything wrong. They couldn’t pay their tithes... that’s all.”

  “I’m not an appeals judge,” I said. “Hoarding can mean a lot of things, but it’s a crime either way.”

  Punishable by death for the hoarders and their children.

  I remember my mother had told me it wasn’t just, that the government was taking it too far, cutting down the tree and ripping out its roots. I’d told her it was the only way to make sure that no else would do it. I’d known even back then that it wasn’t true.

  “Your parents brought you in?” I asked.

  “They did. My brother, too.”

  “But you got away.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “Someone helped you.”

  “It wasn’t Benny,” she said. “He didn’t do anything.”

  “I know it wasn’t him. I’m not that stupid, Mila. But someone slipped you out of internment and forged the records. Someone wanted you in one piece.”

  She looked down again. “That person doesn’t want me anymore... that’s why I’m here.”

  I looked into the eyes of the boy. “And then you got your chance with her,” I said to him. “I’ll bet your help hasn’t come cheap.”

  The boy didn’t say a word. Smart kid.

  “So you’ve come for me,” Emilia said.

  “I have.”

  She dropped the blanket, bringing her arms down by her side.

  I could not help but look.

  Her body was young and athletic, slim and small-breasted but not emaciated like those I’d found before. And she was clean, cleaner than the other Undocs, even cleaner than the greasy boy who kept her.

  If I’d been able to wave away the putrid air and humidity I could have imagined her much differently, like she was one of the girls with the sashes on Patriot Day, who’d march down Walker Street to Jones Plaza for the ceremony and prayer.

  She was more than beautiful enough for that.

  Fuck... she almost made me believe in God.

  “Please don't take her,” the boy said.

  “Benny,” she said quietly, “don't get involved.”

  “She's right,” I said. “You'll get your citation... don't make it worse.”

  The boy clenched his chin. “You’ve got no right to take her.”

  I dreaded the thought of filling out more paperwork, but I knew my job, and I’d make an old-fashioned arrest if I needed to.

  “Tell me, Benny,” I said. “Is she worth it? This girl is undocumented. She’s not supposed to exist anymore.”

  His gaze did not waver.

  “Look, boy... it doesn't matter what you did to her. I don’t care. I’m just here to resolve this situation.”

  “No one’s gonna touch her,” the boy said. “You hear me? You don't even look at her.”

  “Please, Benny,” the girl said. “I'll be alright.”

  “Enough,” I said. I took out a set of plasticuffs. “Hands on your head, Benny.”

  At first the boy complied, but I knew what to expect. As I was hooking the kid's right hand, he made a grab for the gun.

  I made the block without any trouble, forcing the boy down to his knees and slapping on the cuffs. I didn't hold it against him... everyone gets a little crazy when you come to take their toys away.

  I patted the kid down. No weapons, no condoms. Kids these days. But I started to see a story on the boy's clothes, in the sweat and the dirt and the dried blood.

  “What is this?” I asked. “A little rough with your dolly?”

  “He didn't hurt me,” the girl said. “He's been taking care of me.”

  The boy stood silently, his gaze meeting the floor.

  I took a look around the room. Rolling racks held three rows of hanging vestments, a couple of folding chairs lay to the right, a pile of garbage beside... all of it covered in the dust that was everywhere... everywhere but for a bare patch that began near the middle of the room, where blood had pooled near the edge of the couch, where something had been dragged out a door to the rear.

  “Where are the bodies?” I asked.

  He didn’t hesitate for too long.

  “The dumpster… out back,” he said. “I told ‘em not to touch her.”

  The big hero. He’d be able to rape her while claiming to have protected her from something.

  “That was a stupid thing to do,” I said. “You've thrown your life away.”

  “He saved me,” the girl said.

  “Saved you so he'd have something to fuck.”

  The girl began to cry. “No... nothing like that.”

  “Nothing like that,” the boy said.

  So now there were two dead kids. That wasn't something that would just go away. Benny had more to worry about now than late night shakedowns from the guys I work with. There’d need to be an investigation. I’d be called to testify. He’d then be cited for murder and it’d be his family that’d be told to show up at 9am to Baker Street to have their right to exist revoked.

  I looked at the boy. He didn’t look like much.

  But he’d done something noble, and I appreciated that, even if he’d done it for a girl who could no longer matter.

  “Why did you do it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I love her.”

  I shook my head.

  “Please don’t hurt her,” he said. “Maybe you can just take me in... say I killed her, too.”

  I looked over to the girl. She had tears in her eyes, but I could tell she didn’t want me to notice. It must be strange to have someone offer their life for yours; I feel awkward when people offer to pay for my lunch.

  I took another look at the boy. He was frightened. He didn’t want to die.

  That means something to me.

  “I’m not taking you in,” I said, removing the handcuffs. “You need to get out of here.”

  The boy hesitated, looking to the girl as though he expected her to speak.

  She didn’t say a word.

  “I won’t leave her,” he said, stepping back from me.

  I knew what he was thinking about.

  I pointed the gun at him again.

  “Benny,” she said, “please...”

  “No.”

  “Either you go or I bring you in,” I said. “And you won’t be coming home from this.”

  He straightened his
spine. “Bring me in... I don’t care. I want to make sure you don’t hurt her.”

  “Do you know what I do for a living? I’m not here to arrest her, Benny.”

  “Then you’ll have to kill me, too.”

  I didn’t know how much Benny knew, if he knew I’d never be allowed to get away with something like that. I couldn’t kill him without a warrant. I’d have to handcuff him again, force him down onto his knees, and then he’d have to watch.

  That’s not how I do things.

  “Look, Benny,” I said. “This doesn’t have to end like this. I can take care of her.”

  “Don’t you touch her.”

  “She’ll be okay,” I said. “I’ll handle it.”

  “You’ll handle it? What the hell does that mean?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get her out of here. I can take her to the Rio Grande and get her across.”

  I could see he wasn’t buying it.

  “My family’s from here,” I said. “My mother grew up on Third Street. My aunt is still here. Hell... my mother went to Mass in this church every week.”

  He shook his head. I could see it in his eyes; he was still weighing it, thinking of making his move.

  “Benny... I’m one of the good guys. God as my witness.”

  He looked over to Emilia.

  She nodded her head. “It’s okay, Benny,” she said.

  “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  “You can’t,” I said. “If you want to find your way down there someday that’s your problem. But I’m not in the business of smuggling people into Mexico.”

  “What about her?”

  I shook my head. “She doesn’t exist.”

  “I don’t trust you,” Benny said.

  “You have two choices. I can take Emilia down to The Valley or I can snap her neck right here.”

  I heard the girl gasp. I hadn’t wanted to scare her, but the boy needed to understand.

  “You’ll take her to Mexico?”

  “I’ll get her across. I’ve done it before.”

  “Why?” Emilia asked. “Why would you help me? What’s in it for you?”

  “It’s the right