Part 6 (2/2)
”Hey. I could just be a deadbeat, go back to a life of crime.” Consuelo pushed her bottom lip out in a mock pout.
”Ha. You know you never were a normal criminal.”
”Well, did you know my English project is my memoir?”
”I knew your lawyer was negotiating with all those Hollywood people interested in it.”
”I know I can't profit from it, which is fine . . . But I like the challenge of writing.” She produced the introductory pages and handed them to Lei. Lei had noticed the stark beauty of the girl's writing when she read her journal last year, and now the opening pages of the memoir brought a lump to her throat.
”Wow, Consuelo. You really have a way with words.”
”So that's what I'm going to major in. Journalism.”
”That will make Wendy Watanabe happy.” They grinned at each other. Watanabe was a ruthless but pa.s.sionate TV reporter, and she too visited Consuelo regularly. Her fundraising efforts had procured Consuelo the best defense lawyer in the state.
”Yeah, and now I've got Wendy doing writing workshops with the girls here. She's organized editorial help for us. We're all writing our memoirs, not just me.”
Lei glanced up and looked around the room at girls of every size, shape, and shade-all troubled teens who'd hit the wall of the law. ”I bet there are some good stories here.” She felt her own chest tighten with a moment of memory-if her aunty Rosario hadn't taken her in, she might well have ended up here herself.
There but for the grace of G.o.d go I, she thought. It was something her father, converted to Christianity in prison, often said.
She set the pages back down on the table. ”These are very good. But then, you knew that.”
”Thanks. It's my chance to explain everything, and I don't want to miss it. Mr. Fernandez is sort of acting as my agent; he said I can choose any charity to give the proceeds to. That's perfect. I can always write something else and make money on it.”
”That's the spirit. So do you hear from Tyler?” Tyler, Consuelo's boyfriend, had been subject to some tougher sentencing and was incarcerated in California.
”We write. But he's kind of depressed. We're just friends now.”
Angel had fought her way free of the clutches of the other girls, and she trotted back to Consuelo. Lei watched their affectionate reunion.
”Do you still ever think of suicide?” she asked suddenly. Her mind had wandered back to the case.
Consuelo looked up, her dark eyes hard. ”What do you think? I'm in prison, and I've got a record that will follow me when I get out. I'm broke and my parents are dead.”
”I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so abrupt. I have a case that involves suicide, and I'm trying to understand it better.” Lei had had her own brushes with those dark thoughts, but they'd led in other directions-to self-injury. She looked down at the faint white lines of scarring on the insides of her arms.
Consuelo stroked the little dog, who'd flopped on her back in the girl's lap. ”I wanted to die when I was first captured. I thought my life was over.”
”I remember.”
”I actually thought I could will myself to die. But that's not how it works, is it? Every day I kept waking up. Now I just let the thoughts pa.s.s by. I observe them. Dr. Wilson taught me how. Thoughts are not reality. They're just thoughts. It's helped me to realize they aren't the truth.”
”Told you she's a good therapist.” Dr. Wilson, Lei's former therapist, had worked with Consuelo on and off since her capture. Lei thought about the Hale case. ”If you'd been feeling that way, and you'd had someone agree to help you commit suicide when you couldn't do it yourself for some reason, would you have taken advantage of that?”
A long beat pa.s.sed while Consuelo stroked Angel's belly, scratched under her tiny pointed chin. Finally she looked up at Lei. ”I wouldn't be here today.”
”Thanks,” Lei said. ”This actually helps me with a case.”
”Weird convo, but glad I could help.”
”Back to your rooms; it's the boys' time!” Auntie Marcie called, and with good-natured grumbling, the girls got up from the couches. Consuelo stood, handed Angel to Lei.
”Thanks for coming.”
”You're welcome. Thanks for loaning me Angel.” They smiled at each other, and Consuelo straightened her uniform and walked back to her friends, hips swinging, s.h.i.+ny black hair bouncing.
The girl had style, there was no doubt.
Lei waved goodbye to Aunty Marcie and left, a little surprised at the glow of happiness she felt to be in Consuelo's life, to be making even a little difference with these tough teen girls through her limited contact.
On the way back over the steep and winding ribbon of the Pali, Lei put her Bluetooth in her ear and speed-dialed Stevens.
”Twice in one week,” he said. ”I'm going to get spoiled.”
”I know. I missed you. Just got done visiting Consuelo. She's working on her memoir.”
”That's going to be worth reading.”
”I think so too. Wouldn't be surprised if someone wants to make a movie out of it. Anyway, she's doing well.”
”Was there a doubt? The girl's tough.”
”Not really. You know, she kind of gave me food for thought on my case.” Lei told him about the situation with the suicides. ”She confirmed that if she'd had someone to help her die, she would have. And just think of these suicides. If there's some sort of a.s.sistance going on-many of them will be dying too soon. Or when there might have been a solution of some kind.”
”Are you sure there isn't just one *angel of death' offing people who say they want to commit suicide?”
Lei considered this new idea, tapping her fingers on the top of the steering wheel as she navigated a steep curve. Far away below, the ocean gleamed under a silvering of moonlight, Honolulu spread out before it in a net of lights. ”I don't think we considered that scenario because of the print of one victim appearing in the scene of the other one.”
”Well, maybe the doer knows there are enough inconsistencies to draw some attention. The print could be some sort of misdirection.”
”I don't know. Really, all we have are two dead bodies with anomalies-nothing conclusive-suicide notes that are genuine, and both victims having members.h.i.+ps on this fishy website. I'm not even sure the case is hanging together at this point. Ang seems convinced, though. What would you think of a program that could mine all the different law enforcement databases for commonalities in a case? Nationwide?”
”Impossible,” Stevens said. ”Too much security, too many different and incompatible databases. But if it could be done, and the interagency problems resolved, incredible.”
”That's what Ang's working on. Girl's some sort of genius with computers.”
”Awesome potential. You fixing to have another friend?”
”Don't know. I like her, but she keeps to herself.”
”Speaking of keeping to yourself, and being sick of it, have you given any more thought to what we're going to do when I'm free?”
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