Melina doubted the relaxed demeanor. Bonnie had been around the block enough times to know she was facing serious jail time. She had also learned that no one better ever see you sweat in prison.
Bonnie grinned at Melina. “You got my message?”
“I’m here,” Melina said.
“What took you so long? I called a few hours ago.”
“Things to do, people to see.”
She watched as Bonnie shuffled over to the chair and sat. Grinning up at the guard, she winked. “Thanks, doll. You can leave us now.”
Scowling, the guard closed the door behind him. She sat back.
Melina waited for Bonnie to speak.
“I don’t suppose you can arrange for me to get some smokes? I’ve been craving one since they picked me up.”
“I don’t smoke.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do. I bet you’re a health nut.”
“What can you do for me, Bonnie?” Even to Melina’s own ears, her tone sounded terse.
Bonnie shook her head. “Exactly.”
“Are you going to tell me about the pickle jar?”
“I don’t know anything about that. It must have been shoved in the trunk long before I got ahold of the car.”
“Your prints were on the jar.”
“Were they? If they were, which I doubt, it’s because I was shuffling crap around in the trunk to make room for my own stuff.”
“Who owned the car?”
“Belonged to a woman I knew back in LA.”
“Does this woman have a name?”
“I have no idea. I gave her fifty bucks and she gave me the car. I know, bad deal on her part, but junkies do all kinds of dumb things when they need a fix.”
Melina was tempted to call bullshit on Bonnie’s story, but she decided to play along. “Okay, you don’t know anything about the jar. Why were you in that neighborhood? What was the rush?”
“I had to pee really bad.”
Melina shifted, tamping down a stab of frustration. “Tell me about Elena.”
Bonnie’s grin faltered a second. “What do you want to know?”
“She’s not your kid.” Melina looked Bonnie up and down. “No offense, but you’re a little old to have a six-year-old.”
Bonnie’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “None taken, doll.”
Melina did not smile but enjoyed some satisfaction knowing she, too, had found a soft spot. Bonnie was getting old and did not like it one bit. “Did Christina Sanchez own the car before you?”
Bonnie leaned forward, her gaze locking on Melina’s. “Who?”
“Elena’s mother. The junkie who overdosed.”
“I don’t want to talk about the kid or her junkie mother. I’d rather talk about you.”
“For now, we’ll stick with Elena. Where is Elena from? Where is her mother?” Melina would not allow Bonnie to redirect the conversation.
“Christina was a drug addict. When I got out of prison, I rented a room from her. That was a year ago, and she was barely making it then. I started taking Elena with me more and more while her mother turned a trick or slept it off.”
“And you took the child so she could help you steal.”
“We had outings. Little girls need sunshine, and we lived so close to the beach.”
“What beach?”
“Imperial Beach in Southern California.”
“Where is Christina Sanchez from?”
“I don’t think you’ll find any records of her. She came over the border about seven years ago. Had Elena in California, though.”
“Does Elena have a birth certificate?”
“I doubt it. Christina was as afraid of the doctors as she was the cops. She was sure if she asked for help, she would be back home across the border.”
“So how did you end up here in Nashville?” Melina asked.
“To find you, of course.”
Melina’s heartbeat jumped into high gear. Likely, Bonnie was lying to get under her skin, but it still took all her control to keep her tone steady. “Me?”
“There’s a few things I could tell you about yourself.”
“I doubt that.”
Bonnie ran long fingers through her hair. “Oh, come on. You don’t remember me? After all I did for you?”
“What you did for me? We’ve never met before.” Deep down, she sensed Bonnie was telling the truth, but she could not bring herself to admit it out loud.
“Don’t you remember anything before you were adopted?”
Melina rarely discussed her adoption, so there was no way Bonnie could have picked up that information in the jail or on the streets.
“It’s hard to ignore the past,” Bonnie continued. “God knows I’ve tried, but it has a way of rearing up and biting us on the ass.”
Melina folded her arms, cultivating a bored, disinterested look. Cops needed to know when to shut up and listen. Allow the silence to coax free the truth. Her heartbeat ramped up as a fine sheen of sweat formed at the base of her spine.
Bonnie traced her index finger in small circles on the stainless steel table. “When you were little, your eyes were as big as saucers and you cried all the time.”
Melina remained still. Bonnie was playing her. She had to be because if she was not and she was telling the truth, then the lid on her entire past was about to blow wide open.
Bonnie grinned almost as if she were recalling a memory. “You were a clingy little thing, too. Fussy eater.”
Melina calculated their age difference. “How did we meet?”
“I was married to your granddaddy, baby. Howard and I had been hitched for about six months when we got a call that his daughter, Lizzie, had overdosed. She was your mama, child.”
Melina swallowed. Something in Bonnie’s words resonated with truth. “Lizzie?”
“That’s right. Lizzie was in her late twenties when you were born. That was all before my time. According to Howard, she was always a troubled kid, and then she hooked up with a guy that was dealing drugs. Fast-forward a few years and she had dropped two kids and was shooting heroin.”
The name Lizzie rang a distant bell in her memory. “What was Lizzie’s last name?”
“Guthrie, baby. She never married. You were born Melina Guthrie.”
Melina felt light headed. All her life she had wondered where she’d come from, and now the answers were coming at her faster than she could process them.
Two children. She had a sibling. There was another someone out there like her? “You said she gave birth to two kids?”
“You have an older brother. His name is Dean Guthrie, and if I had to guess, he’s your half brother. Lizzie never stayed with any one man long.”
“Does Dean go by the name Sonny now?” The pieces of her past nudged closer together, and she struggled to hide her hopes and fears.
“No. Sonny is my nickname for him.”
Melina remained silent as she processed. Her half brother was in Nashville, and there was a good chance he was a killer. Her mouth felt dry. “Is Dean using his real name?”
Bonnie grinned. “No, and I have no idea what name he’s using now. I just call him Sonny. But none of that is important to this story.”
“I’d say the name of my half brother is very important.” Melina tapped an index finger on her thigh, careful to keep the twitch hidden from Bonnie. “According to your police record you’re quite the con.”
“Oh, I’m the best,” she said, smiling. “But cons don’t always lie. At least the good ones don’t.”
“Okay. I’ll bite. How did I end up staying with you?”
“Your mama overdosed when you were five, and Howard was not too keen on taking in a couple of kids.” Bonnie did not take her gaze off Melina. “But I’ve always had a soft spot for children. I could never have any of my own and taking the little ones under my wing fills a part of my soul.”
“You took Sonny and me.”
“That’s right.”
“Howard and you didn’t live happily ever after. Otherwise I’d not have ended up in Nashville.” She stopped short of mentioning she had been abandoned. Melina could not know for sure yet how much of her story was bullshit.
“We were a nice little family for a few months. But Howard had a bad ticker. He dropped like a stone one day, and it was just Sonny, you, and me.”
“How’d you get to Nashville?” Melina asked.
“We were headed east. I had friends in Virginia.” Bonnie laced her fingers together and leaned forward. “One thing I’ve never been able to figure out.”
“What’s that?”
“We stopped on the side of Route 25. It was the middle of nowhere. In fact, the next stop was a few miles east. I got out to pee, and when I came back to the car, you were gone. I searched for hours. Who found you?”
Images of a darkened road edged to the front of her mind. She imagined the bright stars in the sky, the gravel cutting into her slippers, and the hoot of an owl. Raw terror had stolen the wind from her lungs, and she could not bring herself to scream. She countered Bonnie’s question with, “You’re saying you didn’t leave me?”
“I’ll admit you were screaming like hell and would not stop. That’s part of the reason I pulled over. Hard to reason with a little girl when you’re standing in the way of what she wants. I never had much luck winning over those of the female persuasion. Men I can handle, but not women.”