“Why not stay as you’ve been doing?” she asked. “She technically works for Murphy, but he allows her to go on these errands anytime you ask her to help.”
Carwyn wanted to grind his teeth when Tenzin said the word allow.
Her eyes lit up. “You really do hate him, don’t you?”
“I don’t.”
“Fine. You hate that he has a tie to her. Hate that she feels a sense of obligation to him.”
“Yes.” Carwyn tried to find the words that would make sense to Tenzin. “I don’t want her to feel an obligation to anyone other than me. And I only want her to feel one toward me because I’d cut off my right arm and give it to her if she wanted it.”
Tenzin scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think she will ever want to possess your right arm. Or your left one for that matter. Why would she want your arm? I suppose if she wanted a piece of you left if you die—”
“It’s a figure of speech, Tenzin.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Chloe and Brigid coming back from the women’s bathroom. “I’d give her anything she wanted. Anything. Anytime. I don’t want her to feel obligated to anyone outside of us.”
Tenzin frowned. “But Ben says that’s not how it works.”
“What?”
Tenzin didn’t finish her thought because Brigid and Chloe had returned to the table and Carwyn’s phone started buzzing in his pocket. He grabbed the small device wrapped in a heavily insulated case and looked at the number.
“Los Angeles.” He looked at Brigid. “Who do we know in Los Angeles?”
Brigid looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Besides two of our best friends?”
“Oh right.” But Beatrice and Giovanni’s number would have come up as listed on his phone. Carwyn was staring at a number that was totally foreign.
Oh, why not? It was probably a telemarketer, but he could have fun with that. He pushed the button and said, “Hello?”
“Father Carwyn?” The voice sounded worried. “Am I speaking to Fath— I’m sorry. Carwyn. I was told you’d left the priesthood.”
“Who is this?” He motioned Brigid closer. As long as she was close to the phone, her superior senses would allow her to pick up the man’s voice. “Who gave you this number?”
“It was given to me by a priest in Ensenada. A man I trust. I thought he might know… Well, being brushed by the drugs trade, I thought he might have an idea of what I should do. Though there’s no evidence that she was involved in anything—”
“I’m sorry,” Brigid broke in. “We have no idea who you are. My name is Brigid Connor. I’m Father Carwyn’s wife and partner.”
“That sounds so weird,” Chloe said. “And wrong.”
“My name is Father Anthony Clarence at Saint Peter’s Holy Church in LA,” the man said. “I’m calling to reach Carwyn ap Bryn. I’ve been told he might be able to help me.”
“Help you with what?” Carwyn asked.
“You’ve reached the correct person,” Brigid said. “Take a deep breath. How can we help?”
“Her name is Lupe.” The urgency in the man’s voice morphed into exhaustion. “Lupe Martínez. And she’s already been missing for a week. The police won’t do anything. They said she ran away.”
Carwyn and Brigid exchanged a look. Unfortunately, running away was an all too common occurrence.
“Can you help me?” Father Anthony said. “The police don’t understand. I know this girl. Lupe would never leave her mother like this. She’d never leave her family. I know something is very wrong.”
“It’s past midnight on the West Coast, Father.” Brigid scooted closer to Carwyn. “Why are you calling so late?”
“Am I?” The man’s voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “I thought you’d be awake because of the… Well, the… You know. Your particular condition.”
Brigid’s eyebrows both went up.
Well, well. Carwyn was impressed. Someone trusted Father Anthony not only with Carwyn’s number but also with the truth about what kind of creature the priest was.
“Is this a good number to reach you?” Carwyn asked.
“Yes. You can use it anytime. Day or night. I tell my kids that too.”
Brigid nodded. “Okay. Give us an hour or two to get back to you. We’ll know more then.”
Carwyn pushed the End button and looked at his wife. “You feel like taking a road trip?”
“Don’t get any ideas.” Brigid shoved her tiny finger in his face. “This is not me quitting my job. This is me possibly helping out a family who needs help because I happen to be on the right continent. I haven’t quit my job and I haven’t decided anything.”
Carwyn nodded. “Duly noted.”
“Fine.” She reached for her own phone. “Now let’s call our contacts in Los Angeles and find out exactly who Father Anthony Clarence of Saint Peter’s Church is and why he’s so sure this Lupe Martínez needs our help.”
Chapter Four
Los Angeles, California
Three days later
“Like I said, it’s been over a week now,” Father Anthony Clarence of Saint Peter’s Holy Church told Brigid as they walked through the dark streets of downtown Los Angeles. “It’s not like her to disappear. Lupe isn’t a runaway.”
Brigid watched the shadows with eyes that saw far more than the human beside her. “The types of kids who run away might surprise you, Father.”
“Hey.” He paused and looked Brigid in the eye. “I’m not naive. I’ve been working among the homeless and addicted in this city far too long to be naive. I know kids run away and I understand the reasons are complicated. I’m still telling you, Lupe isn’t the type.”
Brigid nodded. She’d seen her fair share of priests over the years, and her gut was telling her Father Anthony was one of the good ones. “I’ll take your word for it.”
The extent of homelessness in one of the richest countries in the world always astonished Brigid. She’d been in Los Angeles before, but she’d never spent time in the area they were exploring. “How many here are women and children?”
“In this particular park? More than average. It’s known as kind of a family place because the mission is nearby. Overall in LA? About thirty percent women. Maybe twenty percent of those are in families. I’m not sure the numbers on children. It’s hard to say.”
Brigid shook her head. “What’s the city doing about it?”
“Not enough. This encampment in the park is pretty quiet. Not a big gang area. Not too many drugs. More families here; people look out for each other, you know? But the city will kick everyone out in a couple of weeks. And a couple of days after they move everyone out, people will be back.” Father Anthony gestured toward the mission building glowing in the distance. “We try to fill in the gaps, especially with families. Many aren’t on the streets quite yet, but they’re living in their cars, drifting from one cheap hotel to another. Staying in unsafe circumstances because they don’t want to be on the street.”