I said, “Manny going out with you.”
“Not for lack of trying. Of course he was with us on holidays—Christmas, Thanksgiving, and birthdays. The kids loved it, he was great with the kids. But after a while he’d want to leave. Said it exhausted him. That was Manny. Sweet, generous, but he had his own way of doing things.”
I thought:Fatigued by social contact:introvert.Said, “But that time you got him to agree to stay.”
“It was the tenth anniversary of his and Frank’s dad’s death, we all went to the cemetery and paid our respects and I guess Manny was feeling emotional. Not that you could really tell. He was such anevenguy.”
Milo said, “Not the type to make enemies.”
“Of course not! EveryonelovedManny. He wassweet! When he did come over, he’d let the kids crawl over him. When they got older, he’d give them math puzzles, physics stuff. That was his thing. Math. He was brilliant, could’ve gotten a Ph.D. and gone on to be a professor anywhere. He was certainly smart enough.”
I said, “Not interested in that.”
“Nope and don’t ask me why. His professors encouraged him but he turned them down. We have no idea why.”
Milo said, “I’m going to read you a list of names and if any of them ring a bell, please tell me. Whitney Killeen, Jamarcus Parmenter, Paul O’Brien.”
“No, no bells,” she said. “Who are they?”
“Sorry, can’t get into that.”
“They’re suspects?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then—oh forget it, none of my business and I don’t care anyway.”
The door opened and Dr. Frank Rosales hurried in wearing scrubs. Slim, graying and balding, younger than his brother with a fuller face, but the resemblance was strong. He walked past us, headed straight for his wife, and embraced her.
When he let go, his face was tight with fury.
“Someone hurt my brother.” Statement, not a question.
Milo said, “Unfortunately—”
“They killed him.”
“Sorry to say, Doctor—”
“A gang thing.”
Laura said, “That’s what I thought but—”
Frank Rosales said, “Of course you did. It’s logical.”
Milo said, “Did your brother have any problems with gangs?”
“No, not yet. But it was only a matter of time, they multiply like maggots. Not that your district attorney cares about that.”
He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and held them tight against his flanks. Breathing in and out deeply, he opened them and sat down. His wife followed suit, laid one slender arm over his shoulder.
“Thanks, honey—I’m sorry,” said Frank Rosales. “Don’t mean to do a kill-the-messenger thing, it’s just the shock, I mean there was no warning, no indication…Manny was the last person you’d think would be…in this situation.”
I said, “Peaceable.”
“Peaceable, kept to himself. Had nothing of any value to steal. Stuff wasn’t his thing, whatever money he had, he kept in the—Have you checked his bank accounts?”
“Not yet, Doctor, but it doesn’t appear to have been a robbery.”
