“Yeah, well, it’ll wake you up!” Maritza said, giving him a hard thump on the back. “So suck it up!”
When they got to the cemetery, Luca was already waiting. He rolled back and forth on his skateboard, anxiously craning his neck this way and that, as he tried to see into the cemetery without getting too close. When he spotted Yadriel and Maritza, his body relaxed and he waved at them with a smile. “Thought you guys changed your mind for a second,” Luca admitted. He was wearing the same sweater again, his fingers lost in the sleeves as he fidgeted.
“Just had to make a detour,” Maritza told him.
He beamed at the dogs but lurched to a stop, glancing at Maritza for permission.
“Go for it.”
Luca sank to his knees. Donatello and Michelangelo viciously smothered him with wet dog kisses, sending Luca into a fit of laughter.
“The guy needs a dog,” Yadriel said, smiling. The Red Bull was starting to kick in.
“The guy needs a home, first,” Julian grumbled. He looked less than enthused, his posture rigid and expression surly.
It was starting to get cold out, the clouds overhead turning dark and gray. Since it was a Thursday afternoon, folks were beginning to gear up for the weekend. Garage doors stood open with people milling around inside, music blaring, red cups in hand. People cruised up and down the streets in souped-up mods and beat-down junkers.
Maritza and Luca babbled away, easily bouncing between topics while Yadriel hung back, watching Julian. The closer they got, the more Julian withdrew. By the time they made it to the correct street, he was silent and hanging back at Yadriel’s side. His shoulders were hunched up to his ears, his jaw clenched tight.
“It’s just up ahead!” Luca announced, kicking his skateboard into his hand as he fell into step next to Maritza.
“We’ll just be in and out, really quick,” Yadriel said, his nerves getting the better of him the closer they got. “We just need to see if he knows anything, and steal something that has Julian’s scent on it.” It was simple enough. How hard could it be?
“Anything we should know going in?” Yadriel asked.
“Uh—no.” Luca shook his head. “I dunno. This is all kind of weird.” He looked around. Maybe searching for Julian again. “Just try to tell the truth; Rio’s really good at spotting liars,” Luca told him, clearly having learned from experience.
“Awesome,” Maritza grumbled.
“And he doesn’t like dogs,” Julian added.
Yadriel took a deep breath. “Then we’re off to a great start.”
The car shop was a squat warehouse with three open bay doors and a tiny office attached. The brick exterior was creamy orange, and MARTINEZ AND DIAZ MECHANIC SHOP was painted in loopy letters next to the entrance. There was a large mural of Our Lady of Guadalupe spray-painted above it. She was in her typical red dress and star-speckled blue mantle. Rays in shades of orange and yellow burst from around her. Sure enough, ST. J was written just below her feet.
Various cars were parked in a line out front, some with missing fenders or busted headlights. A shiny Cadillac was hoisted up on a lift while a man in navy coveralls tinkered underneath it. Banda music played on a scratchy radio somewhere.
Through the front window, Yadriel could see customers waiting on plastic chairs. The local news played on a small TV mounted in the corner. A woman with bright red lips and clicky high heels walked by holding a clipboard. Everything smelled like gasoline and engine grease.
Luca went right up to a man standing at a workbench, sorting tools. He was wide and tall, clad in a pair of long khaki shorts, white tube socks, and a black T-shirt.
“Carlos!” Luca called over the loud drilling of a machine.
“Luca!” Carlos smiled in greeting. One of his front teeth was gold, and there were streaks of gray in his long goatee. “Where you been, little man?” He clamped a large hand on Luca’s shoulder and gave him a shake.
Luca stumbled under the weight.
“¿Hambriento? Think I got leftovers in the fridge—”
“I’m okay!” Luca cut in, beaming up at the taller man. “Um, we’re actually looking for Rio.”
“Oh?” Carlos looked up to where Yadriel and Maritza stood waiting. His smile faltered as soon as he caught sight of Donatello and Michelangelo. Maritza wiggled her fingers in a wave.
“That’s Carlos,” Julian said into Yadriel’s ear.
“Got that,” Yadriel said quietly, moving his lips as little as possible.
“Could we talk to him?” Luca prompted when Carlos didn’t say anything.
The man’s attention went back to Luca, the smile back in full force. “Yeah, yeah, ’course, little man!” He turned to the open bay doors and gave a sharp whistle. “Rio!” he called. “One of your strays is lookin’ for you!”
One of the car hoods slammed shut, revealing a young man standing behind it. “Luca?” He came around and stepped into the sunlight.
There was no denying that Rio was Julian’s older brother. They had the same nose and heavy brow. Rio was tall and broad. He wore navy coveralls with the top portion pulled down, the sleeves knotted around his waist. His white tank top was covered in black grease marks. His shoulders were round and the ropy muscles of his arms bunched as he wiped his hands off on a rag. On his right arm, Yadriel saw the large black-and-white tattoo of Santa Muerte Julian had mentioned before. A starry mantle framed her skeletal face.
Almost immediately, Yadriel could feel something coming from Rio. When Yadriel looked at Maritza for confirmation, she gave him a confused look, like she felt it, too. He couldn’t pin down what it was. It wasn’t a spirit sense, definitely something having to do with his health. Julian hadn’t mentioned his brother having any illness or injury, but there was something there.
Rio had a practical haircut and a serious face. He was incredibly handsome and twice as intimidating. “What are you doing here?” Rio’s copper-brown eyes flicked to Yadriel, Maritza, and then the dogs. His frown deepened as he tossed the rag to the side. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing—nothing’s wrong!” Luca said quickly through nervous laughter.
Yadriel was starting to think Rio’s ability to tell someone was lying was less about his own skill and more about Julian and his friends being awful at it.
“Could we go talk real quick?” Luca asked, tugging on the hem of his sweater.
Again, Rio eyed them. Sweat prickled on the back of Yadriel’s neck, but he forced himself to not blink or look away. To his side, Julian glowered.
Finally, Rio nodded. “Come on.” He led the way around the shop, his heavy black shoes squeaking against the oily cement. A large set of keys jangled at his hip.
They followed, but Yadriel was already starting to regret this decision. After everything he’d heard about Rio—how he cared for and looked after Julian and his friends—he’d expected him to be, well … different. Friendlier, at least. The guy before him didn’t seem like someone who pulled a young boy out of a gang, or took in kids who didn’t have anywhere else to go.
Around the side, Rio unlocked a large chain-link gate. At the back of the building, there was a storage shed and sun-bleached canopy covering a gorgeous car. It was an electric-blue Corvette Stingray, according to the logo. Yadriel didn’t know much about cars, but he could tell it was old but meticulously taken care of.
Julian went right up to it, smoothing both his hands lovingly over the rounded hood. It was a strange shape, kind of like a clown shoe.
A rickety set of stairs led up to the apartment above the shop. Rio stopped at the bottom.
“Dogs stay out here,” he said in a voice so firm, it was clear there was no room for negotiation.
Yadriel turned to Maritza, alarmed.
“It’s fine.” She nodded, waving Yadriel ahead. More quietly, she added, “You’re fine.”
But he certainly didn’t feel fine.
He didn’t want to do this on his own. Luca was there just to get them in the door, and Julian was being unusually quiet as he lingered by the car. But Yadriel sucked in a deep breath and nodded.
Maritza settled herself against the Stingray.
“Don’t lean on the car,” Rio said.
She leaped back.
Rio started up the stairs, and Maritza settled for walking Donatello and Michelangelo around the small yard so they could sniff at rusty car parts and old tires.
Yadriel followed him and Luca up the stairs and into the apartment.
It was small. Much smaller than he’d expected.
To the right, the main room had a square table and three chairs, each of them a different style and wood. It was covered in envelopes and a set of car manuals. Against the far wall sat a flat-screen TV perched on a black-and-red tool cabinet. There was an old PlayStation and a handful of controllers, their cords twisted and knotted together. Facing it was a black leather couch. The cushions looked poufy, but the seats were cracked and the armrests were worn. There was a lumpy yellow pillow crammed into one side and a blue, scratchy-looking blanket with satin trim on the other. A floral comforter was tossed onto a green recliner in the corner, and more folded blankets sat in a precarious heap under the square window.