“You don’t talk about your father much.”
Lupe sighed. “No. I love my dad, but he’s just not much of a father. I take care of most of the things around the house since Mom…” She looked out the window.
Javier nodded in understanding. “After my father left, he started a new family like we didn’t exist. Mom and I didn’t seem to fit his new plans.” He found he didn’t want to talk about this subject, either. Why was everything they had to talk about so dark? “But your tío, he seems important to you, no?”
“Yeah, tío is the best. He asked me to move in with him.”
Javier felt his heart surge. The idea of her living on the island so he could see her all the time was too good to be true. “Well? Are you going to move to Puerto Rico?”
“I don’t know. At first I thought no way, but now … but I wouldn’t want to leave my dad alone.”
“He can’t take care of himself?”
Lupe made a motion like she was drinking out of a bottle. “Nope. Though it seems he checked himself into rehab last night.”
“You can’t save him. Believe me, no one knows this better than me.”
She shrugged. “I know, but he’s my dad. I love it here, yet I love Vermont, too. It’s almost like there should be some place in between, like exactly halfway between the two places, where I could really feel at home, you know?”
As they neared police headquarters, they saw news vans parked up and down the avenue. They pulled into the parking lot and had to drive slowly around a swarm of reporters who were buzzing around like insects, the lights from the cameras illuminating the entrance. Once they were out of the car, Lupe led the way through the crowd and the officer at the door noticed her, seemed to know her.
“Señorita Dávila! Let her through, make way!” he yelled at the reporters.
Lupe smiled despite the press of bodies behind her. “¡Gracias, Officer Ramirez!”
Ramirez opened the glass door for them and the reporters yelled through the opening into the lobby. The questions ranged from serious to ridiculous depending on the legitimacy of the publication.
“Is it true there’s a serial killer loose on the island?”
“Are these murders part of a terrorist plot?”
“Is there a monster attacking boys in San Juan?”
Ironically, the sleaziest paper probably had it right, for once.
The doors closed behind them and muffled the din. Security in the building was tight and Javier struggled to put his keys and cell phone back in his pocket after going through the metal detector as Lupe asked at the desk if they could call her uncle. Javier arrived at her side just as her uncle came through the door to their left, almost having to duck to fit his tall frame through. Javier swallowed hard as Lupe grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the huge man. The bandages around the man’s neck did little to diminish the intimidation of him. Chief Dávila’s face softened the minute he saw Lupe. Then his laser-beam eyes fell on Javier, who wished he could crawl under a nearby desk.
“I know you. Javier Utierre.” His eyes narrowed as he looked down.
Javier imagined the bright light they used in interrogations in old movies shining right in his eyes. “Y-yes, Señor. Officer. I mean, chief.” Then Lupe was talking, fast.
“Tío, we have something important to talk to you about.” She looked up at him with those eyes and the laser beam moved off and Javier breathed a sigh of relief. Couldn’t he have fallen for a girl with an uncle who was a mechanic?
Chief Dávila narrowed his eyes at Lupe and Javier knew more questions were coming … later.
“Delgado! I’m using your office.” And they were walking toward the nearest office; Delgado waved like there was no way he was going to argue. The chief sat down behind the desk, the wooden office chair groaning as he lowered his large frame into it.
Lupe and Javier sat in the two chairs in front of the desk.
“Well? First I want to know how you got here, Lupe.” His eyes fell on Javier and the light was blinding again. Drops of sweat snaked their way down Javier’s back.
“What? We drove, why? Tío, I have something important—”
“Oh no, Lupe, this is important. Did you drive in this young man’s car?” When the man pointed to him, Javier felt he’d just been picked out in a lineup.
“What the hell does that have to do—”
“Do not use that language with me! I happen to know that this young man doesn’t have the cleanest past.”
Javier interjected, “Actually, sir, I’ve been in recovery over two years—” Neither of them seemed to hear him, or even know he was there. Javier sat back into his chair.
“No niece of mine will be driving around the island with strange teenage boys—”
Lupe looked as if she’d swallowed something that had gone bad. “No niece of yours? No one’s ever told me who I can and can’t hang with! My own father—”
“Yes, we both know that your father isn’t doing much parenting these days. If you’re going to stay down here, you have to obey—”
“Obey? Obey?? That word’s not in my vocabulary and you know it!”
Javier’s head was following the volleys back and forth like he was at a tennis match. Lupe stood and leaned with her palms flat on the desk, putting her face inches from her uncle’s. Javier had seriously never met a girl as fiery as Lupe. Girls he’d dated in the past would never talk back to their uncle, let alone a man who just happens to be one of the most powerful men on the island. His mother would hate her. Javier smiled.
Lupe’s voice lowered; he could see her working to stay calm. “I really don’t get why this matters, but I met Javier at Papi Gringo’s apartment—”
Uh-oh.
“You were at Papi Gringo’s apartment?” The chief remained seated, but his face was starting to redden.
“Yeah. Nothing happened.”
“I would hope not. For his sake.”
Lupe took a huge breath. “Tío! I’ve been trying to talk to you since last night. Can’t you just listen?”
“Well, I’ve been quite occupied with work.”
“Yes! I know! And we’re trying to help you!”
It was the chief’s turn to sigh. “Okay, talk.” He tented his fingers in front of his face and all of his body was turned toward them.
“It started five years ago.…”
Javier listened to Lupe tell his story, the story of five boys in a changing neighborhood, as if it were someone else. As if it hadn’t happened to him. When she got to the murders, it started to sound like a horror movie.
Lupe stopped at that morning, at the conversation with Vico’s abuela, and just watched her uncle. He noticed she didn’t mention the car almost hitting her in Old San Juan, or the threatening texts. He certainly wasn’t going to bring it up.
They sat and looked at the police chief, the silence in the room gathering like a storm. “I heard another theory. I just heard from Padre Sebastian, and he thinks the drug dealers are responsible for all this.”
Lupe threw up her hands. “No! You yourself said you saw things! Weird things! I think it’s time both of us consider that there’s something else going on.”
Her uncle stared at her. “Oh, so now you believe in monsters?”
Javier noticed the sarcastic tone underlying the man’s words. He spoke up. “Sir, I think you should listen—”
Dávila pointed a large finger at him. “You stay out of this, Utierre.”
“Don’t take this out on him, tío. He’s helping solve the murder case, and—”
The chief totally lost his cool then, his face red over the stark white of the bandage on his neck, his voice booming through the room and shaking the glass window behind him. He stood and bent down to face her so they stood nose to nose. “I should never have had you come to the crime scene. Good Lord, you’ve been here less than a week and you’re already knee-deep in this damn case! This is nothing like the other ones we’ve talked about over the years. It’s to
o dangerous for you—”
Lupe stood her ground, managing to overpower her uncle, despite the difference in their size. “Dangerous for me? For me? I’m not the one who almost got killed last night!”
“That’s part of my job! I can’t promise that I’ll never—”
“I can’t lose you, too, tío!” she yelled, her voice breaking. Everyone froze where they were for a minute, then Lupe dropped back into the chair, burying her face in her hands.
Silence fell over them all as the two men looked at her, as she seemed to become small and fragile before their eyes.
“I just can’t.” Tears were spilling down her cheeks and Javier had to restrain himself from reaching over and hugging her.
Everything about Chief Dávila seemed to deflate and he sat back down, and once again Javier envied the love between them.
Lupe’s uncle sighed, clearly defeated. “Okay, sobrina, okay.”
She took a long, deep breath, her eyes shiny with tears under the fluorescent lights.
“I should have known those shopping trips were a cover. You never did like shopping.”
“I’m sorry I lied to you.”
“Okay, okay, mi amor. But I expect it to never happen again, comprendes?”
She nodded.
The man folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “So, do you have some kind of a plan?”
Lupe sniffed. “Wait, I’m confused. You said you believed Padre Sebastian’s theory.”
He shook his head. “I never said that. I said I had heard another theory.”
“Hold the teléfono! You get all flipped out about me driving here with Javier, but you have no problem believing me when I tell you a monster is running around the island?”
“Look, Lupe, I was pulled thirty feet off the ground by a massive shadowy creature. I’m not in the position to disbelieve anything. But my niece driving around with strange boys? Now that’s nonsense.” Then Chief Dávila smiled.
Lupe just shook her head, but she was smiling, too.
The chief asked them, “There’s something that’s been vexing me. Why were they all killed in such different ways?”
“I don’t know. I’m thinking he can change shape. I don’t have a clue what his real shape is. Did Abuela used to threaten you and Dad with El Cuco?”
Her uncle nodded.
“Did she ever say what he looked like?”
He shook his head. “That used to scare me more, not knowing what he was. Childhood imaginations are powerful things.”
“Not as powerful as a mother’s threat.” Javier heard his voice like it was coming from someone else. He had planned to stay quiet. Now the light beam was on him again.
“Nothing is more powerful than that, son.”
“Okay, here’s our plan. We need to get everyone who was there the night of the thirteenth birthday together just before Javier turns eighteen. If they had all that power together to call El Cuco, why couldn’t they call him off, too? We’re thinking Carlos’s concert is on the eve of Javier’s birthday, it’s in the neighborhood where it all started. It’s the perfect opportunity to get everyone together, just like they did years ago, and try to turn this around. But we’d need your help.”
He noticed she didn’t mention the issue of the “cost” the padre had told them about. As she spoke, Javier held his breath. This was their Hail Mary pass, their only shot.
The chief didn’t say anything for what seemed an eternity.
“You know, if this idea came from anyone but you, sobrina, I would think it was crazy. But something about it makes sense, not in here”—he tapped his head—“but in here”—and his chest. “Let’s get in touch with the mothers of these boys—”
“Las Madres.”
Chief Dávila smiled. “Las Madres, I like that. Sounds like some kind of superhero team.” He pointed to Javier. “Young man, I expect you to take my niece straight home and you go home and stay there until one of my officers picks you up tomorrow night. It seems tomorrow is going to be a big day for all of us.” He and Lupe just sat there as the chief picked up the phone and started dialing. “And, young lady, you’re to call your father so he knows you’re okay.” When Lupe started to argue, he cut her off. “Now!” They jumped as if the chairs had been electrified.
Chief Dávila believed them.
This was good news, but it also meant that Javier had to try to talk to his mother again. He sighed and realized he’d rather hang out in the police station all night. Or get a sharp stick in the eye.
Still, there could be worse things coming for him tomorrow night.
July 9, 4:15 P.M.
Lupe
LUPE LOOKED UP the number for Copley Hospital in Morrisville, Vermont, and pressed Call.
When the overly cheery voice answered, she croaked out, “Hi, um, my dad.… he’s in, like, detox?” What the hell was the name of the part of the hospital that did that kind of thing? She could hear the fast, clean percussion of computer keys.
“Yes, Jorge Dávila. He’s in Behavioral Medicine, I’ll transfer you—”
“Wait, how did you know my father’s name? Does everyone know?” Anger rose like a wave. “I mean I know this town is small and all, but damn—”
“No, Miss Dávila, I saw your caller ID and looked up the last name.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“No need to apologize, I’ll put you through.”
While she waited, she imagined the conversation they’d have if she could tell him what was really going on. Hi, Daddy! I’m so happy to hear you’re in rehab! I was pretty damn close to throttling you anyway. Am I embarrassed? Oh no! I mean, everyone in our little town already knows you’re a drunk and your daughter’s an angry outcast! Oh, and Dad? I’m hanging with a recovering drug addict who might or might not have a monster after him. I think you know him, El Cuco? Yeah, him. And there’s a small issue of someone saying they’re going to kill me. But everything’s great here, don’t worry! It’s all beaches and virgin piña coladas!
The phone in her hand spoke: “Behavioral Medicine.”
“May I have Jorge Dávila’s room, please?” Her voice sounded way calmer than she actually was.
“Mr. Dàvila’s not able to receive outside calls at this time. Can I ask who’s calling?” The nurse’s voice was clipped and official.
“His daughter. Lupe.”
A pause on the other end. The voice softer now. “I’m sorry, Miss Dávila, but your father isn’t supposed to take outside calls or receive visitors for the first forty-eight hours of his treatment.”
Lupe was about to use this as an excuse: part of her wanted to say, Okay, thank you and hang up. But she stopped herself. She had pretty much written off her father, placed him in the “yet another person who disappears on me” category, but then all the things that had happened since she’d arrived on the island ran through her head in fast-forward. She was not the same girl who’d left Vermont a few short days ago.
She put on her most mature voice, the one she used with the guidance counselor and telemarketers. “I understand, but I’m traveling with family and it’s urgent that I speak to him. My uncle, his brother, is a policeman and was injured in the line of duty.” Okay, so tío was just fine, but omission isn’t lying and the “in the line of duty” thing was sure to help. She needed to speak to her father that night, not the next.
Who knew what was going to happen the next?
A pause. Then, “I see. Can you hold a minute, please?” The phone was muffled on the other side and Lupe pictured the nurse standing in a white-walled corridor, her hand over the phone as she spoke to the person in charge.
“I’m going to bring the phone into Mr. Dávila’s room.”
Lupe could hear the soft footsteps on the other line. “Mr. Dávila. You have a phone call.” And then to Lupe, “Please limit your call to five minutes.”
“Lupe?” Her dad’s voice was stretched thin and tired across the line, but it was good to hear it.
“Dad! H
ow’re you doing?”
“I’m okay. Taking it one hour at a time at this point.” A chuckle. “Lupe, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this ahead of time. It was kind of a last-minute decision.”
“Don’t worry. I’m just glad you’re taking care of yourself.” No exaggeration there. Since she’d found out he’d checked himself in, she didn’t have to worry about him driving himself into a river, or sleeping while the house burnt down around him.
“I was sitting at home, well into my fifth drink, when my cousin called about Esteban. I couldn’t believe it. I always knew you’d be all right because you had Esteban to take care of you, just like he did me. After your mother left, he was a safety net, you know?”
Lupe just nodded into the phone. “Safety net” was a good way to describe her uncle.
“And then it hit me: I can’t assume Esteban will always be there. I shouldn’t have made him your default father. Your mother isn’t coming back and it’s time I stop feeling sorry for myself and step up.”
Lupe’s eyes filled as she pictured her dad lying in a hospital bed. It wasn’t that she didn’t fantasize about her father sobering up, about him being “normal,” but she’d just kind of given up hope. The conversation had taken her by surprise, yet she was still cautious. Her father had broken too many promises for her to trust him outright.
She smiled into the phone. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” A sniffle. “How is Esteban doing? Is he still in the hospital?”
“Oh no, you know him. Anyone else would be there for a week with the trauma of it all, but not tío.”
“Good. That’s good. I never imagined him … well, never there.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Then she thought of Javier and what awaited them tomorrow night. She wished she could tell him what was going on, but now was not the time. “Dad, did your mother ever threaten you with El Cuco?”
His laugh was warm and familiar. “You bet she did! Just about every day. Funny, I haven’t thought about that for years. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. I just found out about him, is all. Did you believe in him?” Her father was the least superstitious person she knew. No God, no horoscopes, and no monsters. It’s probably where she got it.
Five Midnights Page 19
