“You’re going to help me, aren’t you?” Chance, vulnerable—that was something I’d seen only a handful of times in the three years we were together. This time, it might actually be genuine, and to cover my uncertainty, I took a sip of my Coke.

“I thought I just did.” I felt surprised I could sound so cold, particularly where his mother was concerned.

My burned palm tingled in anticipation of what he would ultimately ask me to do. Sure, he’d hem and haw, try to charm his way around asking outright, but the fact of the matter was, he intended to use me to follow her trail. I’m not a human bloodhound, so it’s stupid and awkward, but we’ve done it successfully four times before, including the salvation of that little girl, and the need had never been this personal.

“Not what I meant.” He tried on the old smile with a cock of his head, and I found it no longer rendered me witless.

“I know.” My answering smile felt touched with melancholy as I moved from behind the counter to flip the sign on the door to CERRADO. I surprised a mustachioed man on his way in, and Señor Alvarez offered an apologetic look, clutching a red plastic bag. He was a slight man of indeterminate age, always clad in tan pants and a white undershirt.