Page 40 of Deadly Sins

I steadied my nerves, crouched down near the boy. “What is your name?”

The little boy didn’t speak. He reached his hand out to me, pointing at my purse.

His grandmother grabbed him by his hand. “Julián, don’t be so rude.”

I rose from my position.

Tiffany’s grandmother turned to me. “Sorry about that. Come inside. Would you girls like some iced tea?”

Iced tea? Tequila sounded better.

We walked in and sat on the sofa. The house was clean for having such a young boy. Pictures of Tiffany and Julián were everywhere—yet there wasn’t a single picture of any guy with them. She had to be his mom. Had she hidden this kid from the police?

That was impossible. If Autumn knew about Tiffany’s mother, then the police would also. Why was the boy not mentioned in a single police report or news article?

I studied one of Tiffany’s pictures, so unlike the stripper headshot the media had been running in the papers. In this one, her hair was a natural brown, her dark eyes weren’t sad, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. She looked fresh-faced, almost innocent. No painted-on eyebrows or jet-black hair. What happened to her? What was her story?

The grandmother handed us two glasses of iced tea. “So, did you know my daughter?”

“No, I did not. But Autumn has told to me about her.” My mind was racing, trying to find a way to confirm that Tiffany was Julián’s mother.

“She was a troubled girl. She was definitely mixed up in some heavy shit—but the best thing she ever did was let me raise Julián when he was born. And I thank God every day she stayed clean while she was pregnant. Well, the truth is, I didn’t even know she was pregnant. Her own mother. Imagine that! She had vanished for a year and then showed up with this baby one day, asking me to take care of him. She did her best to visit when she could, but she made sure to keep Julián sheltered from her life down in San Diego.”

My hands started shaking, and I choked back tears.

It couldn’t be, Mia. No way. Stop. This boy is not your son.

Fuck. I needed to get away from here. I was having a psychotic break.

Focus Mia, back to the case.

Tiffany had been an addict? I’d always suspected that but had no proof, just a gut feeling. Drugs. This murder had to be linked to drugs. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. But I had to know who Julián’s father was. Maybe I was just losing my mind, but I’d bet Joaquín’s life that this boy was actually my nephew. Had my brother kept a secret from me? The same secret I’d kept from him? That would be too coincidental. I needed to be rational.

I decided to make an emotional plea. “My parents, they are dead. It must be so sad to you and to her boy. Is his father still in picture?”

I waited breathlessly on her words.

“No. Tiffany wouldn’t even tell me who he was, but I have my suspicions. I’m pretty sure he was her high school boyfriend, real loser, definitely not good enough for my Tiffy or Julián. I figure if Tiffy didn’t want the dad to know, then it isn’t my place to go against her wishes, you know?”

I nodded my head but was saddened by her flawed thinking. The father had the right to know about his child unless that knowledge would put the child’s life in danger. Just like I had the right to know if this little boy was my nephew. But then again, more than anyone, I understood Tiffany’s rationale. But my situation had been complicated. And I’d handled it the only way I knew how.

Autumn tapped her fingernails on the coffee table. “Any updates on the case?”

“No. That rat-bastard should fry. They should use a firing squad on his ass and save the taxpayers’ money.”

My stomach ached. This woman seemed utterly convinced that Joaquín killed her daughter, not that I blamed her.

The grandmother spent the next hour reveling in Autumn’s every story about Tiffany. I could completely relate to Tiffany’s mom—now that I had no family left, I clung to every memory I could that involved my parents and Joaquín and my son.

After our visit came to a close, we started saying our goodbyes. Autumn promised to come by again and to try to bring Tiffany’s other friends. But I knew that was a long shot because the other girls seemed to have already washed their hands of the situation. Tiffany had been forgotten.

I crouched down on the carpet to say goodbye to Julián.

The little boy stood there, assessing me, arms crossed over his chest before a reluctant little smile eased over his face—and he threw his tiny body at me in a hug. Still silent. His small frame wrapped around me tightly, and I couldn’t resist. I hugged him back—so hard, I never wanted to let go. It was as if I was hugging Joaquín again.

As if I was hugging my own son.

This boy even smelled familiar, like home, mi familia.

I wasn’t going to miss my chance to get confirmation of my suspicions. I tugged lightly on his head and plucked a few strands of hair out of his scalp, shoving them into my pocket.

Julián seemed to startle but didn’t cry. Just gave me a sad face, and Autumn and I left.

Once inside the car, Autumn placed her hand on my knee. “Thanks, Ksenya, for coming with.”

“Of course. I had good time.”

She smiled and pulled away from the curb. Autumn didn’t have a clue that she had just given me a huge break in this case. That she, a woman who’d spent the night with the love of my life, might have led me to the one clue that could unravel this mystery.

After a long drive, Autumn dropped me off at home. Once safely inside, I took the hairs out of my pocket and stuffed them into a plastic bag, along with strands of Joaquín’s hair that I had collected from his apartment when I’d decided to go undercover. I would mail them to Roman, who would be able to send them to a DNA lab. By next week, I would know if Julián was my brother’s son.