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FAMILY REUNION

Chapter Seven

"You know for two city slickers, you two sure are dumb."

"Jesse!"

"Sorry, mom," Jesse apologized, a grin slipping onto his face as he was kinged by Carlos from across the checker board almost an hour after his brush with death.

"So it was just a car backfiring. How were we supposed to know?!" Carlos cracked a crooked smile over to Katheryn, not willing to admit they had mistaken a car for a gun.

Kath meanwhile was on the brink of laughter as she helped Theresa fill coffee cups from Rosa's kitchen counter. It had not been funny whatsoever. The thought of such danger staring them down like it nearly had still sent chills up her spine. But she'd give anything to see the look on Carlos face again when he saw the taillights of the car driving away from his little makeshift peep hole in the fence that held him and Kath hostage.

"It's a good thing Mama Rosa sent Papa out to check on the noise or you two would have had to spend the night back there," Hector noted as he bounced little Sam on his knee with Carmen looking on from beside him with a smile.

"Speaking of whom," Theresa glanced around them all, her brow raised in disgust. "Where is the woman of the hour?"

"She stepped out for the fresh air," Jesse commented and frowned as Carlos waited to be kinged this time around.

"Did she go with Uncle Miguel?"

Jesse nodded solemnly and quite absentmindedly as Carlos claimed the win and laughed to celebrate his victory.

"Well, if you'll excuse me," Carlos yawned and stretched victoriously, "I'm going to get some sleep."

Theresa then instructed, "Carlos, you have the couch in here. Hector has the floor. Carmen, you and Kath are in the spare bedroom with me."

"What about me?" Jesse asked.

"Do you mind staying in here with your uncles?"

"Nah," Jesse chuckled. "Not a bit."

"Good!" Theresa grinned. "Then you won't have a problem babysitting Sam in here either to give your Aunt Carmen a break."

"Mom!" Jesse pleaded to which Theresa glared the only way a mother could. Jesse quietly returned to his task of helping Carlos put away the game for the night.

After everyone had calmed downed, said their goodnights, and dispersed to their designated sleeping areas, Theresa found herself outside getting a bit of fresh air herself. She hoped she could speak to her sister alone perhaps. Despite the front she put on in front of Carlos and his girlfriend, she really did care for her sister. Sure they had their differences. But Rosa was the oldest. And with Theresa not far from her age, it was only natural they would have vied for the place of most important in their family.

"Hola," a voice called from the shadows as it approached Theresa.

Theresa chuckled. "You startled me, Rosa."

"I'm sorry." Rosa scoffed to herself. "That's not something I said very often as a child."

Theresa simply shook her head in agreement, staying silent for the time being. She then turned to face her sister and noticed a tear streaming down her face. Rosa pushed back a stray lock of her short and curly brown hair to reveal a rather demeaning bruise beneath her left eye.

"Rosa," Theresa gasped, reaching out to cradle her sister's face in her hand. "What happened?! Are you hurt?"

Rosa sniffed hard, trying not to cry any further. She was too tired to do so anyway. "No, Theresa. I'm fine. It's Miguel I'm worried about though."

"Why? What do you mean?"

Rosa contemplated her next words carefully, watching as her sister looked into her eyes silently urging her to answer. "Carlos and his girl did not hear a car backfiring like Miguel said."

Surprised, Theresa braced herself for what Rosa was about to say.

"It was a gun like Carlos thought," Rosa continued and turned away to bury her face in her hands. She had no strength left to cry but couldn't keep it all inside any more.

Theresa took Rosa by the shoulders from behind and gave her a gentle squeeze. "What happened, Rosa? You must tell me everything. More than that, you have to tell Carlos. He can get in touch with the authorities. My God…what sort of trouble are you both in?!"

Rosa turned and sobbed into Theresa's shoulder. It was something Theresa was not used to whatsoever. They had never been close like this.

"I—I don't know what Miguel has gotten into," Rosa explained between sobs. "All I know about is that there are drug deals on these streets every day. Ever since we moved here to keep Grandma's home, this neighborhood is no longer safe to roam freely like we did as children. Eight people have been killed this year because of it. They've even been threatening us to sell and move away from here. But Miguel stood his ground. He told them he would not give in. I'm too afraid to tell mother. She will be heartbroken."

Theresa held her sister a moment longer and let her cry it out. She then drew her away and looked into her eyes. "Let's talk to them all together in the morning. We will work this out, Rosa. We will survive this as a family. You can't do it alone."

Rosa nodded numbly, unable to verbalize her agreement through her tears.

As Theresa led Rosa back to the house, she remembered distinctly that Miguel lied. Carlos and Katheryn had been in dire trouble like they had at first believed. In her heart she couldn't believe her brother-in-law would cover for some sort of drug-dealing scum. But perhaps there was more to him than had met her eye all these years. For now, she had a family to keep together come first thing in the morning.

Those four hours in C.D.'s Bar was the longest Bobbie had ever stayed in the same room with Sal Ochoa at one time in their entire existence. Surprisingly enough, it had turned out to be a rather pleasant night. C.D. was very understanding towards the two during the entire night, allowing them to stay past closing time to continue discussing the case. He even gave them some helpful tips exactly like Bobbie had hoped. She may have not told the semi-retired Ranger very often, but she admired him greatly. He was a legend whether or not he knew it or not.

When the clock had reached ten o'clock and a few pots of coffee had been exhausted, both officers quickly realized the need to call it a night. Unfortunately, they didn't feel like they had accomplished very much in their eyes. Honestly, the case still seemed to be far from resolution. But their relationship as officers was well on its way to being mended. But in between futile conversation had still come bits and pieces to the puzzle they had intended to solve together now. They had enough evidence to draw a substantial conclusion that the Trey Sevens were indeed the ones to place blame on. Although they had no witnesses, the MO used in this act of arson was very similar to that of four other acts in the past committed against members of the gang that had chosen to part ways with them. It seemed like their go-to act of vengeance. So far they had not taken any lives in the process. And each act had never produced any witnesses. Furthermore, each arson was just enough to scare each former gang member into not saying a word to the authorities. It kept them quiet and no one ever had any evidence besides hearsay to prove the Trey Sevens were the perpetrators.

As they parted ways that night, Sal and Bobbie planned to meet back up first thing in the morning at the H.O.P.E. Center to pick up Amy. From there they concluded they would go back to the scene of the crime and look for any possible shred of evidence to officially tie this crime to at least one member of the Trey Sevens. It was a long shot but one they had to try.

Pulling up the curb in front of Amy and Leon's home, Sal turned off the engine and removed the keys. Slowly he gave the rear-view mirror a glance. Amy had a tear in the corner of her eye as she saw the embers for the first time in broad daylight. He knew the sight hurt his sister and instantly regretted bringing her along. But he hoped maybe she'd be able to provide some insight into the night that she had not recalled previously.

"Are you ready?" Sal whispered, casting a sideways glance to Bobbie next to him.

Amy nodded firmly. "Yes. I am ready."

The trio walked the short driveway to the embers that made up the front portion of the house. The rest of the home felt exposed even though most of the structure had survived. Just the dining room and a portion of the kitchen was completely gone. Still it seemed like a lost cause to save the house. Sal silently admitted to himself that it would probably cost far less to rebuild or move than it would to repair. No matter what, he wouldn't let Amy go through it alone.

Sal slipped his arm around his sister and give her a squeeze as she stood before her home, its remains telling her what she was afraid to acknowledge.

Meanwhile, Bobbie proceeded forward, stepping over rubble and ashes to begin her own search for clues. This was her first visit to the scene and was quickly becoming a puzzle she wish she had never signed up to help solve. But she was here. She was determined to see this through. She simply couldn't stand the thought of breaking Amy's heart.

"Well, it doesn't look good." Bobbie bent down to sift the ashes, quickly coming to the conclusion that they were not going to find any evidence to point them in the right direction. "Looks like the bottle they used to make their little fireball out of shattered into a million pieces. Not going to get any prints from that."

Sal left Amy at the edge of the house and joined Bobbie. "Yeah. You're right." He gave the area a glance over, coming to the same conclusion as Bobbie. "Let's head back to the car." He looked over at Amy and whispered, "This was a bad idea bringing her back here. We should have come alone."

Bobbie nodded. "Don't be too hard on yourself though, Sal. You couldn't have known."

"Yeah," Sal shrugged it off. "But I'm her brother, Bobbie. Brothers are supposed to know those things." And he left in a hurry to see to Amy.

Bobbie was just about to follow Sal when something caught her eye. She turned around and searched the exposed hallway nearby only to find nothing was there. Turning back to follow Sal, she could have sworn she heard a noise and spun around again. Nothing. Again she turned to leave. And again the noise stopped her in her tracks.

"Hey, Sal!" Bobbie called out.

Sal stopped next to his unmarked police issue and turned. "Yeah?"

"Wait for me. I'm going to check one thing around back."

"Okay," Sal nodded absentmindedly, proceeding to help Amy into the car. He then stalled for a minute by his own door, watching as Bobbie traced a path around to the back of the house. As soon as she was out of his view, Sal got inside the car to wait for her.

Bobbie crept along the edge of the burnt embers that used to be a dining room and continued making her way around the house. She traced the path carefully…slowly. Her hand hovered at her sidearm the entire length of the way. Coming to the rear of the house, she immediately noticed that the backdoor was ajar and unstrapped the hook that secured her weapon inside its holster. She took each step from there with caution, the wind blowing the only sound she could hear.

CRACK! Bobbie's heart skipped a beat as she heard the crunch of a twig beneath her shoe and was startled by the sound of a pair of swiftly moving feet just inside the house. Bobbie drew her pistol and burst inside the house with only her instincts and ears to guide her. She paused once a few yards inside to notice the running had stopped. In its place was the barely detectable sound of a door closing shut.

Ranger Hunt kept her gun outstretch as she took careful steps down the hall, diverting briefly into the entrance of the first two rooms in her path to check for anyone there. Both rooms were clear. Then came the third room…Leon's bedroom she presumed by the desk in the corner of the room filled with a badges of accomplishment from Thunder Karate and his school.

A shadow shifting caught Bobbie's eye. Immediately she knew someone was in the room. Their hiding capabilities had been impeccable so far. Little did they know that I light left on inside of a closet could cast a distinguishable shadow of them beyond the closed doors.

Taking a step back to face the closet, Bobbie fixed her weapon on the door of the closet and took a deep, silent breath. "You! In the closet! I'm a Texas Ranger. Come out with your hands where I can see them!" Silence. "Now! I mean you no harm as long as you cooperate. It's up to you." Bobbie never flinched.

A minute later the closet door slowly opened, revealing what appeared to be a teenage boy beneath all the smut on his poor face.

Bobbie, although still on edge, holstered her weapon and approached the child. He seemed harmless enough.

"Hi, there. My name's Ranger Hunt. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

The boy didn't seem to want to answer. He simply stood there in front of her, his arms limp by his sides and his eyes watching the carpet with intrigue.

Bobbie took a step closer to the boy and tried searching for his eyes. "Are you alright?" she echoed. "What happened here?"

By all rules of the book, Bobbie knew she had to arrest him. He was a suspect now. Besides that, he was trespassing. But she seemed to recognize the look of hopelessness in the boy's eyes and wondered if he just had been looking for shelter or had some other good excuse for why he was hiding in someone else's home. But again Bobbie knew that was ridiculous.

"I'm going to have to ask you to come with me," Bobbie finally managed.

Despite her better judgement to cuff him and lead him back outside to the car, Bobbie wrapped her arm around him and eased him out of the room. He seemed to comply, not having to have Bobbie force him to walk. He seemed capable enough on his own. Once outside, he finally raised his head and stopped. Bobbie stopped too, turning to look at the boy. She noticed a bruise cupping his right eye and his lip which was split in two. Several fresh cuts finished off what appeared to be the aftermath of a fight.

"Let's get you to a doctor," Bobbie immediately suggested.

"No! I—I can't!" the boy startled Ranger Hunt by saying. "I mean…I can't go back. They'll kill me! They'll kill me!" The boy turned to Bobbie and began softly sobbing onto her shoulder and repeating "I can't go back" over and over.

As she cradled the boy in her arms, Bobbie finally spotted Sal who had since gotten back out of his car and was watching her. She couldn't quite read his expression. Was it anger? Approval? Sympathy? He was never an easy one to read. But it didn't matter. This boy clearly had been through some ordeal. And she was determined to find out what that was.