His heart jumped. “He has?”
She looked down at her coffee cup. “It was his gang that killed my mother and my little brother,” she said, and then regretted saying it out loud. She grimaced. “You don’t tell anybody that, okay?” she added worriedly. “I shouldn’t have said it.”
“I never tell anything I know,” he replied. “They killed your family?” he added, shock in his voice.
She nodded. “They were after the former tenant, who’d sold them out. They didn’t know he’d moved.” She swallowed down the memory. It was horrific. “That didn’t bring my family back, of course. He and the boy who did the shooting were arrested. The boy did time. Rado had a convenient alibi. They couldn’t break it.”
Now he understood that sadness in her, that showed even when she smiled. He could only imagine how it would feel, if his own family had been shot to death in front of his eyes.
“Do you have anybody else?” he asked.
She managed a smile. “I had an elderly aunt, but she died two years ago. I’ve got nobody, now.”
“Yes, you do,” he said, and he smiled at her. “You’ve got me. I’ll be your family.”
Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over. She grabbed a napkin and dashed them away, embarrassed.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “If I offended you...”
“No! I’m not offended.” She swallowed, hard. “It was the nicest thing anybody’s said to me, in a very long time.”
He sighed, and smiled, relieved.
She stuffed the napkin into her pocket. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for my shift.” She paused as she started to leave. “Do you have family?”
“It’s just me and my dad,” he said reluctantly.
“At least you have somebody,” she pointed out. She hesitated. “But you’ve got me, too. If I’m your family, you’re my family, too. Right?”
He cocked his head. He grinned from ear to ear. “Right!”
She laughed. “Okay. See you.”
“See you.”
* * *
One of the nurses on duty had seen the story about the gang shooting on the news, but it was only a flesh wound. Police had been at the hospital to take the boy into custody, but his companions rushed him out the door before the police could get near him. The name he’d given was an alias. They noticed tattoos on him. Wolves’s heads. Retaliation, probably, for the dead Serpiente gang member. The nurse said they were still hunting for the victim.
Sunny worried about Tonio. He was just the right age for Rado to want to recruit him. She didn’t know what she could do to protect him, but she’d do anything she could. She was already fond of him.
* * *
Two days later when she came on shift early, Tonio was in the canteen again, waiting for her. One of the nurses noticed this and teased Sunny about her young gentleman friend, only to be informed that he was her family. The nurse knew her background and understood. She just smiled.
After her shift, Sunny was thinking about Tonio as she went down the hall. She was almost due for her days off, so she wouldn’t see him again right away. She was almost to the elevator when she noticed a San Antonio police detective who came onto the ward and paused at the desk. She knew that he was probably asking about yet another shooting victim who’d been brought in the night before.
Sunny knew he was going to want to talk to her, because she’d been the nurse on duty when he was placed on the ward following emergency surgery. She’d pulled another double shift, tonight, this time because two nurses were down sick and they were shorthanded. The gang shooting victim on her ward was only ten, a painful reminder that gangs didn’t care about the age of anybody they targeted.
Odd child, to be so young and sound so mature when he talked in his sleep. He had tattoos. Wolf tattoos. It didn’t bode well that this was the third gang shooting in recent days. And it was the second shooting of a member of Los Diablos Lobitos.
The detective spoke to the nurse in charge of the shift, who indicated Sunny and motioned to her. She went to the desk, her coat over her arm, her purse strap over her shoulder.
The man was tall and blond and drop-dead gorgeous. He’d have turned heads anywhere. There were all sorts of rumors about him. The most persistent one was that he’d been with a group of mercenaries in Africa some years ago. That was before he joined the San Antonio Police Department and worked his way up through the ranks to Captain, the position he held now.
Sunny knew him, because he’d been a lieutenant when her family was killed and he’d worked the case. Cal Hollister was a good man, with a kind heart. If Sunny had liked fair men, he’d have been at the top of her Christmas list. But she had a gnawing yen for an olive-skinned man with black dancing eyes.
“Hi, Captain Hollister,” she greeted him, smiling.
“Hi, Sunny. How’ve you been?” he asked gently.
“Life is hard, then you die?” she teased.
He grinned. “So it is. Can I buy you a cup of coffee in the canteen so you can stay awake while we talk?” he asked. It was morning. She’d been up all night and she was tired. He knew it without being told.
“Sure you can,” she said, stifling a yawn.
* * *
He led her into the canteen and purchased two cups of black coffee from the machine. He placed one in front of Sunny as he dropped his tall frame into the chair. There were only a couple of people in the canteen so far, an elderly couple she recognized from the cancer ward; they had a grandchild there, in serious condition.
She forced her attention back to Hollister. “Are things so bad that the brass has to work cases now?” she teased.
He laughed shortly. “I ducked out of a meeting and said I’d promised to help Lt. Marquez interview a witness. I hate administration. I miss working cases.”
“You were good at it,” she said, smiling. “How can I help?” she asked.
“It will be hearsay, and not worth beans,” he began. “But I wondered if your young patient said anything after he went on the ward?”
She hesitated. This was a slippery slope. Anything a patient told her wasn’t supposed to be shared with anyone without permission from the administrator. It was to protect the hospital from lawsuits, that modern pastime that so many people seemed to love.
He chuckled. He produced a signed paper and handed it over. “I always go through channels when I have to. Recognize that signature?”
She did. She’d seen it on memos often enough. It was the hospital administrator’s.
“Okay, then,” she said, relaxing. “He hasn’t said much. He hasn’t had visitors, either. But he did say something, last night,” she confessed. “Although, it was an odd sort of comment, and I’m not sure he was completely out from under the anesthesia at the time. You know that it can make you goofy for a few days after surgery?”
“I know it all too well,” he said somberly. “I’m carrying about three ounces of lead in my carcass that they could never remove.” His face hardened, as if he was remembering how he collected that lead.
She cocked her head.
“Give it up,” he said with faint amusement. “I don’t talk about my past, ever. Well, maybe to a local priest, but he’s an old friend.”
She pursed her lips. She knew a priest downtown who was a former merc. He did a lot of outreach work. “I wonder if we could possibly be thinking of the same priest?”
He