“Got carried away with the holy water.” Vero’s tone was snide, and I pinched her thigh to shut her up.
I smiled at Officer Oates. “Nothing a mop and a plunger won’t fix.”
The deacon approached, holding his Bible against his robes. He extended his hand toward Officer Oates, addressing her in English. “Welcome to St. Peter’s. I’m Deacon Garcia. It’s good to see a few new faces at mass. And of course,” he added, with a knowing smile at Vero, “a few familiar ones, too. I was glad to see you in church tonight, Veronica.” He raised an eyebrow at her pant leg. “I hope your ordeal in the restroom didn’t disrupt your worship.”
Vero shook her head. “No, Father. I did a lot of praying.”
His smile was wry. “As Santa Teresa reminds us, every trial has a purpose. I understand you’ll be staying with your mother for a while. I hope we’ll continue seeing you.” Vero nodded. “Good,” he said, patting her arm. “I expect you’ll want to arrive early for confession on Wednesday.” He winked at her before bidding us all farewell and returning to the church.
Officer Oates shook her head. Her trigger finger toyed with the handcuffs on her belt, but if she strapped them on Vero now, it would be her word against that of a highly respected member of the clergy. Her rancorous smile said she knew it. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Ramirez, but I’m going to find out.”
“Would you look at the time?” I said, making a show of checking my watch. “We should get Vero home. Her curfew is almost up, and she should probably put that ankle monitor in some rice to dry.”
“I have a better idea,” Officer Oates said. “Why don’t I follow you two home. I can remove that old, wet monitor and get rid of it. As luck would have it, I’ve got a brand-new model in the trunk of my car.”
I didn’t like her smug grin, or the way it grew wider in my rearview mirror as she followed my minivan back to Norma’s house.
CHAPTER 14
“We are not calling Cam,” Vero said over breakfast the next morning. Her mouth was set in a hard scowl, her eggs going cold on her plate as she glared down at her shiny new ankle bracelet. Officer Oates had made good on her promise. She’d escorted us home from church last night, retrieving a brand-new monitor from the trunk of her car before she’d followed us inside.
The new device wasn’t like the waterlogged one Oates had pried off Vero’s ankle. That one had operated like an invisible dog fence, turning off completely during Vero’s brief windows for essential errands. This new one was equipped with GPS tracking. Oates boastfully explained its features, how it would record Vero’s every move, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There would be no errands or field trips Oates wouldn’t know about.
These GPS units were typically reserved for more serious offenders, but—as Officer Oates had merrily informed us—the toilet incident had given her no other choice than to offer Vero the upgrade. The fact that Vero had to pay for the damaged unit—plus the high monthly rent on the pricier new one—was an added pinch of salt in the wound.
On the positive side, since Officer Oates couldn’tproveVero had broken her curfew, she hadn’t yet stripped Vero of her errand privileges. As long as Vero went only where she was supposed to be, her fancy new bracelet wouldn’t alert the authorities.
“This is getting ridiculous, Vero. If you won’t ask Cam for help, then I’ll call him,” I said. Give me Theo’s license plate number. I’ll have Cam track down his address.”
“We don’t need Cam to do it. I already know where Theo lives.”
“How?”
She hesitated, looking guilty when she said, “I took the AirTag off your key ring and stuck it to the fender of his BMW last night.”
My mouth fell open. “You can’t just put a tracker on someone’s car! What if Theo finds it and reports it to the cops?” How would she explainthatin her trial?Well, you see, it’s very simple, your Honor. I employed a spyware device to help me stalk my uncommunicative ex and strong-arm him into providing me with an alibi for my other criminal charges.
Vero waved off my concern. “Theo has no idea the tag is on his car. I checked your phone while you were sleeping last night and traced him to a house. The car hasn’t left the driveway all night. I’m ninety-nine percent sure the house is Theo’s.”
I sighed, resigned. At least I wouldn’t have to involve Cam in all this. And I could quietly retrieve my AirTag now that we knew where Theo lived. No one would ever have to know about it. “When Javi and Ramón wake up, I’ll ask them to go with me.”
They had come home last night, bruised and bloodied, right after Officer Oates had left. Stone-faced and silent, they had walked straight to the kitchen and put two bags of frozen peas on their black-and-blue cheeks. When Vero had asked them what had precipitated the fight, they’d said it all started when Theo got suspicious—Theo ran, Javi tried to chase him, and someone spilleda beer. Neither one of them mentioned Sophia, and I got the distinct impression that doing so wouldn’t be wise.
Javi and Ramón had split the remains of a bottle of whisky before heading to bed and they were still sleeping it off. Probably so they wouldn’t have to face Norma and Gloria over breakfast and explain where their bruises had come from.
“You can’t tell Javi and Ramón where Theo lives,” Vero said. “Not after what happened last night. If they show up at his house, he’ll probably call the cops. Javi and Ramón have no idea I put a tracker on Theo’s car, and I have no plans to tell them.”
“Well, I’m not going to his house alone. And you can’t go with me with that computer strapped to your foot—”
Vero tipped her head, her brow furrowed as if she’d been struck by a thought. “Let me use your phone.”
I handed it over. “What are you doing?”
“I’m calling Cam,” she said as she opened my contacts.
“Why?”
“I need him to hack my ankle monitor.”
