“Hi,” I said cagily.
I sat down on the backstep. The sunshine hit the left side of my face, making me squint. I placed my coffee beside me, dunked my cookie in the hot liquid, and bit into it. I tried to keep my crunching away from the phone.
“Hey,” Hector replied flatly.
“What’s wrong, baby bro? You sound down.” A large truck rumbled past, and I waited to hear his answer after it passed.
“I got a situation,” he replied warily.
My back became erect as I honed my ears to listen. “What kind of trouble are you talking about, Hector?”
He released a large breath into the phone. “The Las Balas crew. Apparently, there’s a hit out on me. They’re trying to pin me for a prison debt. I’m in big shit, Amber. I need some help.”
Cool, calm, and collected is how I responded with clients when they presented their problems to me. After all, I was a social worker and was used to dissecting people’s lives without judgment, putting the pieces of the puzzles back together. I held the phone away from my face and stared at it blankly.
“Hector. Are you serious? How do you know the threat came from Las Balas?” I replied evenly.
“It’s from them. A few of the guys I used to run with told me over beers. They wanted to warn me about it. I’m telling you because I may need to relocate until I figure it out.”
“Why should you run? What the hell are they talking about? A prison debt?” I twisted my head around to make sure no one was outside smoking and might hear me.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Hector! You called me, remember? You’re my only brother. Of course I’m worried about it. You’ve been doing so good,” I said.
“Apparently not good enough for Las Balas. They’re looking for some money that was given to me from the robbery. The cops took it, so of course, I don’t have it. There’s no way I can pay it back,” he replied desperately.
“How much is it, Hector?” My voice trembled as I lifted my coffee to my mouth. I burned my lip from misjudging the heat of it and winced. “Shit!”
“You all right?” Hector asked in a concerned voice.
“Yeah. I just burnt my lip with the coffee,” I grumbled.
“Two hundred thousand. Sorry to call you with my bullshit. I’m freaking out a little bit. Las Balas aren’t a crew I want bad blood with,” Hector said apprehensively. “I know you’re connected. You know, in the prison system. I thought—”
I cut him off. “You thought what?”
“I don’t know. That you would know somebody on the inside to help out or have a contact. Something. I’m fresh out of ideas here.”
I dunked the second half of my cookie in the coffee and tried to let my mind go someplace else. The Merced heat was starting to agitate me along with Hector. “Leave me with it, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Hey. Thanks, Amber. ‘Preciate it,” Hector groveled.
“Okay. I have to get back to work, okay? Give me a couple of days, and we’ll come up with a plan.”
That’s what I did—came up with plans for everyone else other than myself. I had no real complaints, just every now and then it wore me down. I grimaced as I rose from the concrete step. As I looked at the clock, I noted I only had a couple of hours to go, then I could retire to my safe haven with a glass of red. The remainder of my workday passed by quickly, and the pile of paperwork on my desk now looked half the size. I had my headphones on most of the time to concentrate on my cases. When I dragged my head up, it was time to go home.
As I strode out to my car with my bundle of cases to look through, I thought of my brother and me in simpler times. The fun we used to have. We would build fortresses in our backyard, and he would chase me, playing tag. Now he was fresh out of prison with a hit on him.
I rode home to the little house that I’d bought five years ago. It was set back from the main strip of Merced, and I loved it. My luscious green hanging plants welcomed me as I reached my front steps. I tapped them, and they swung silently. I loved my porch, where I could bask in the iconic California sunsets on gorgeous nights like tonight. The skyline looked like fresh cantaloupe had been spread across it. I didn’t want to miss it, so I hurried to drop my bags and pour myself a glass of wine.
I took one sip and headed to the shower to wash away the day. Colt’s sinewy, thick arms swirled into the steam as a memory while I loofahed myself clean. What I wouldn’t do to have those arms around me in the shower. It sent tingles all through my body just thinking about it.
I toweled off and set up some cheese and crackers to go with my wine. My case paperwork was waiting where I’d dropped it off on the porch. I took another delicious sip of red wine as I marveled at the intense changes in the sunset. I took a seat, opened my manilla folder, and re-read the case notes from Colt’s file. Sexy Colt. He was a farmer who grew his own produce. It’s not like I hadn’t seen the file before. It just took on new meaning now that I’d met him. He was also a former member of the Outlaw Souls. I sliced some cheese on my plate and laid it on top of my water crackers. I re-read that bit again. Outlaw Souls.
An epiphany struck. That’s it! Colt was the connection I needed for Hector. Colt from the Outlaw Souls. From what I knew, they were huge rivals of Las Balas. Colt was part of the Merced chapter and surely would be able to offer a solution. The problem was that my next visit with him wasn’t until next month. Prisoners typically got four hours of visit time a month, and I’d already taken up one hour of his time. It was worth a shot, though. I would see if I could pull some strings since the warden liked me so much.
I scribbled down on my notepad the reminder for a scheduled visit to see Bella. I wanted her to be ready for Colt’s return. I worked late into the night, as always. A social worker’s notes are never complete. There were so many children and people I wanted to save, but the thing is, I couldn’t reach them all. By the time I carried myself off to bed, it was well after ten.
