The van had pulled up at a corner, and the doors were open. A middle-aged woman and a group of teen girls were setting out tables and canvas chairs along with a portable firepit.
“That’s Tonya. I don’t know much about her background, but she’s with Streets Alive, a homeless advocacy program. They pass out blankets and food. Try to connect people with the right services. That sort of thing. They’re privately funded like us.”
“Did Lupe know her?”
“All the kids know Tonya,” Father Anthony said. “She’s a regular at the mission, and she knows the kids from Saint Peter’s. Looks out for them. The girls especially. They know if they ever get into trouble and I’m not close, they should go to her and she’ll call the mission number from there.”
“Not the police?”
Father Anthony frowned. “If something criminal happened, we report it. If anyone threatens the kids, we report it. If someone simply gets scared or freaked out or has a run-in with someone really high or mentally ill, they head to Tonya. We try not to call law enforcement unless we absolutely have to.”
“Fair enough.” Brigid nodded toward Tonya’s compound. “I need to speak with her.”
They meandered over to Tonya’s van where a group of women had gathered around the firepit. The woman named Tonya was a large, middle-aged black woman with silver-threaded curls, wearing a heavy sweatshirt over worn jeans. Beside her was a shrunken older white woman who looked as if she’d lived a very hard life. The older woman was holding a cigarette and one of the girls was staring at it.
As they approached, Tonya narrowed her eyes on Brigid as she and Father Anthony walked closer.
Brigid appreciated the woman’s instincts because they were correct. That’s right. I’m a predator, but I’m no threat to you or yours.
Brigid didn’t say it. The woman wouldn’t have listened to her words anyway. She knew better, that words meant nothing on the street. Actions were what mattered.
“Tonya?” Father Anthony waited at the edge of the compound for the woman to notice him.
“Padre.” Tonya’s eyes shifted from scrutinizing Brigid to smiling at Father Anthony. “How you doing tonight?”
“Still worried,” he said. “Still no word from Lupe.”
“Huh.” Tonya reached over for the cigarette the old woman was smoking. She took a drag and handed it back. “That’s a shame.”
“Actually” —Father Anthony stepped forward, but Brigid waited on the edge of the circle— “Lupe is why we’re here tonight. We were hoping—”
“I already talked to the police when they asked me.” Tonya examined Brigid, from the black leather boots she wore to her whiskey-brown eyes, which never broke away. Tonya frowned a little, then looked at Father Anthony. “Told them what I knew about the girl.”
“I’m not the police.” Brigid spoke quietly, but her voice was clear. “And I’m not from around here. But I am looking for Lupe.”
Tonya sat back and cocked her head. “Girl, where are you from?”
“Dublin,” Brigid said. “Ireland.”
“That’s some accent.”
The corner of Brigid’s mouth turned up. “I could say the same thing about you.”
Tonya threw her head back and laughed. “I think I like you. I only understand about every third word you say, mind, but I like you.” Tonya’s eyes were shrewd. “So what interest does your kind have with that girl?”
Brigid felt one eyebrow rise. “My kind?”
Tonya leaned back and seemed to pick something from behind her upper canine tooth.
Brigid got the message loud and clear. Tonya knew about vampires. Interesting, but not that surprising if she worked on the street.
“Yeah,” Tonya said. “Your kind.”
Brigid smiled a little and glanced at the small group around the fire. “You mean… the Irish?”
Tonya reached for her neighbor’s cigarette and took another drag, her hooded eyes never leaving Brigid. “Yeah. The… Irish.” She glanced at one of the teenage girls with her. “Miss Lettie, would you mind giving our Irish guest your seat for a moment so we can talk?”
The girl stood up, and Brigid noticed she was pregnant.
“Yes, ma’am. I have some studying I can do in the van.”
“Good girl.” Tonya kicked the empty chair next to her. “Sit, my Irish friend. Let’s talk.”
Brigid glanced around the fire. The older woman was staring into the flames and nursing her cigarette. One of the teenagers was glued to her phone, and the other one appeared nearly asleep.
She took the offered seat and angled her shoulders toward Tonya. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m interested in Lupe.”
“Yep. And don’t try to bullshit me.”
Not when I need your cooperation so dearly. “I’m a private security specialist from Dublin.”
“Private security specialist.” Tonya reached for a pack of cigarettes and lit a fresh one. “Sounds expensive.”
“I am. Normally I work for a very rich man who pays me lots of money to oversee the security for his business, but right now I’m here as a favor.”
Tonya nodded. “Fair enough. Who’s the favor for?”
“Me,” Father Anthony said. “I called a friend who called a friend.”
“My husband was a priest in a former life.”
“Is your husband also… Irish?”
The corner of Brigid’s mouth turned up. “In your meaning of the word? Yes. But don’t tell him I called him that.”
“And he was a priest, huh?” Tonya pursed her lips. “Never heard that one before.”
“Carwyn is speaking with Lupe’s mother right now.”
Tonya shook her head. “Poor woman. She’s a good girl, Lupe.”
“So you don’t think she ran away?”
Tonya paused. “Well, there’s running away, then there’s running away.”
Brigid reached for the box of cigarettes, and Tonya handed it over. “Tell me more.”
Chapter Five
“Lupe’s got a big heart,” Tonya said. “That can be good and bad if you know what I mean.”
“I do.” Brigid had seen more than one good-hearted person break themselves on the rocks of another person’s pain. “Big heart to work with people here?”
“Big heart for everyone. She was always a generous girl, but in the past year, she seemed… on edge. Like she finally realized how fucked up the world really is, you know? Homelessness. The environment. Immigrant rights. She’d spend all this time reading on her phone and I’d find her crying in one of my chairs.”
“She let herself get overwhelmed.”
Tonya nodded and blew out a thin stream of smoke. “I can tell you know how it is. You gotta focus on what you can do, not on everything that needs to be done.” Tonya tapped her temple with a finger. “That’s a recipe for a breakdown. You gonna work in the hard places in this city? You gotta focus on the week you’re in. The people you’re with right then.”