The Christmas Present

“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?”

“Lissa called me on my cell phone, after she’d called 911.”

“And you rushed right over.”

“Of course I did. I loved Esme and our baby. I didn’t want to believe her.”

Vivian doubled back. “And you came straight here after taking Esme home?”

“Yeah.”

“What time did you get here?”

“About four-fifteen. Her apartment’s only a couple of blocks away.”

“You were here the whole time?”