baby, but I need to know everything. Don’t leave anything out, no matter how insignificant you think it might be. At least not now, not with me.”
She held her hand up when Rafael started to protest, and in the steely voice she reserved for deadbeat dads and abusive husbands, said, “You went through a lot of trouble to get my law firm to take this case, so why don’t you cut the guard-dog routine and give me a chance to do my job? Otherwise you should have stayed with Williams.”
“He trusts me and I’m not going to let you waltz in here and turn him inside out for your own enjoyment.”
Her mouth dropped open before she even had a shot at finding her poker face, and she finally felt her temper snap. “My own enjoyment? Look, you jerk, I can think of a lot of things I’d enjoy more than sitting here listening to a child talk about murder, but I don’t have that option. And neither does he. Not if we want to win this thing.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Diego’s eyes widen and his hands clench, and she forced herself to take a few deep breaths as she worked to regain her composure. No matter how she felt about Rafael, Diego trusted him. “I assume that’s what we all want to do, isn’t it?”
Rafael refused to answer, but he didn’t object when she asked Diego, “When was the last time you saw Esme alive?”
He cast an uncertain look at the man, but started to speak when his mentor nodded at him. “About four o’clock, on the day she died.”
“January 12.”
“Yeah. I took her to her doctor, for her checkup. She was six months and pretty big, so he did another ultrasound. Just to check out the baby, you know?”
Vivian nodded and he continued, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on the scarred conference table. “But everything was cool. He was growing like he was supposed to, swimming around in that amni—amni—”
“Amniotic fluid,” she supplied.
“Exactly. Esme’s weight was good, her blood pressure, everything. So he sent us home, told us to make an appointment in two weeks.”
“This was at the clinic on Washington, right?” she asked, glancing up.
“Right.” He wiped his hands on his jeans, his foot tapping in the same rhythm his fingers had been following a minute before. “I took her home and then headed over here. I had work.”
“Did you drive her home?”
“I don’t have a car. We took the bus and then I walked with her from the bus stop.”
“Did you see anyone you knew?”
“Where?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. On the bus. On the walk home. At her building.”
“I guess so. I never really thought about it.”
“So think about it now. Who did you see?”
His eyes narrowed as he concentrated. “I saw Nacho and Luis—they live in the building next to Esme’s.”
“Nacho?” She glanced at Rafael for confirmation.
He nodded. “Same kid.”
Diego looked at her questioningly, but let it go when she didn’t pursue the matter. “Anyone else?”
He thought for a second. “Esme’s oldest brother Ric. He was leaving when we were going in.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“Just said hello, you know? Nothing big. He and Esme don’t—didn’t—get along.”
Her antennae went up. “Really? Why not?”
“I don’t know. Esme pretty much thought he was a jerk, so we didn’t talk about him much.”
Vivian lifted her head, studied him carefully. “She never said anything about him? Never complained to you about him, never talked about buying him a birthday present? Nothing?”
“Well, sure, that kind of thing. But nothing major.”
“So tell me what she did say.”
“Everything?” he asked incredulously.
“Sure. Whatever you remember.”
“I don’t remember much. I mean, we were together for two years, so she said a lot about him, I guess.”
“You just said she never talked about him.”
“We never really had a conversation about him. Just stuff she said in passing.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Like he’d dropped out of school to deal drugs for a while. Like she didn’t like the guys he hung around with, even before the dealing started.”
“You’re telling me Esme’s brother is a drug dealer?” she asked, just to clarify things.
“They both are. Nothing major, though. Just some weed and X, that sort of thing.”
“Ecstasy?”
He looked at her as if she was stupid. “Well, yeah.”
“And the cops know about this?”
“I guess so.”
“You didn’t tell them?” She couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice.
“I figured they knew. What’s the big deal, anyway?”
“The big deal is there’s nothing in their report about it. I can’t believe they didn’t at least look at them.”
“For Esme’s murder?” Diego asked. “Ric and Danny wouldn’t do that.”
She pinned him with her best glare. “I thought you said you didn’t know Ric very well?”
“I don’t. But I didn’t get any crazy murder vibes off him, either.”
“I didn’t realize every killer radiated ‘crazy murder vibes,’” she commented. “It must make the police’s job so much easier.”
“Vivian.” Rafael’s voice held a warning.
She glanced at him, saw his jaw tighten, and decided not to push Diego about Esme’s brother. At least not right now. “Okay. So did you talk to anybody else that you can remember?”
“Just Lissa, Esme’s best friend. She came over as I was leaving to head to work.”
“She’s the one who found Esme’s body later that night.”
He nodded stiffly, then started drumming on the table again, his rhythm faster now that he was more agitated.
“How did you find out that Esme was dead?”
