“So that’s the assault charge.” Gabriel made it out and rose to his full height beside me. He examined a cut on the heel of his hand. “I clocked the guy, knocked him out. I was in a bad situation, and I made a bad choice. Pretty sure I’d make it again. Just between you and me? Part of me even enjoyed it.” He paused. “Would you like to hear about the kidnapping charge next?”

“Your sister?” I guessed. He’d said that she was a baby, that she was there, that she was almost hurt. I wondered if he’d meant to take her for good, or if he’d just wanted to get her out of the house.

“She’s almost four now,” Gabriel said quietly. “I’m supposed to stay away from her—and my mother. That was part of the deal I struck with the DA. I pleaded guilty to assault, they dropped the kidnapping charge, and my mother didn’t have to testify.”

“But if your mother had testified—”

He cut me off, his brown eyes capturing mine. “She wasn’t going to testify on my behalf.”

I blinked back against the sun and managed one last question, though now that we were out, he was under no obligation to answer.

“The sheriff, he was the one who arrested you?”

No answer.

“You told him the truth, and he didn’t believe you?” I guessed.

Gabriel’s dark hair caught the sun. “Oh, he believed me. He was my soccer coach. I thought he was such a good guy.” The gleam in Gabriel’s eyes nearly took on a life of its own. “The sheriff knew exactly what happened, because my mom is his wife.”

Chapter 34

The hike down from the mountain didn’t take us to Hunter’s Point. We ended up two towns over instead.

“Wait here,” Gabriel said, like he hadn’t bared his soul to me, like I hadn’t been searching for the right words to say in return the whole way down. “I know the guys who work here.” He nodded to the local auto shop. “I’ll see if someone can give us a ride.”

I would have snapped, too. He was hurting the people you love. I’m sorry. All the things I hadn’t said cycled through my head as Gabriel disappeared into the garage. I’d known him just long enough to suspect he wouldn’t want sorry.

“Still too good for the job I offered you?”

The question made its way to my ears over the din coming out of the garage. If I’d been one of the dogs, my ears would have perked up. The missing persons report had said that Andrés Cortez had worked in an auto shop. I slipped inside, ignoring Gabriel’s command to wait.

“I have a job,” Gabriel was telling a man whose upper half was hidden beneath a car.