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to be fawning over me. Lucia needs you more. I can take care of myself. Tony can certainly handle the patients,” she said. “Go. We’ll talk later tomorrow, after you get some rest.”
    “All right. Just take care of yourself, Carmen,” Victor said, getting into the car.
    Lucia waved through the car window as they sped away.
    Carmen climbed into the front seat of Nick’s red SUV. “Still has the new car smell.”
    “Because he babies the thing,” I said.
    “Good. He takes care of things. He’ll make a good father,” Carmen said.
    I got into the backseat and tried to breathe. Either there was no air or I couldn’t take in the thought of Nick and me as parents. Or married. Hell, we hadn’t reached the
I love you
stage yet.
    Nick inched the car into the heavy traffic and steered north, past the merchants lining both sides of Alvarado. We passed 7th Street, and the fountain shooting water in the center of MacArthur Park Lake. Trees lush with bright green leaves and flowerbeds vibrant with April blooms lined the sidewalk along the park.
    Carmen’s shoulders jerked. “Oooh.” She bent forward, holding her side and gulping air.
    “Are you all right?” I said.
    “I shouldn’t have had the enchiladas,” she said. “I think they were too rich for my stomach. I’ll be fine in a minute.”
    I sat back. Something Lucia had said earlier confused me. “What did Lucia mean, Nick? What is a broojer-something tie?”
    Nick enunciated: “Broo-hay-REE-a.
Brujeria
is Spanish for witchcraft. In sections of Central and South America, including regions where Lucia and Paco traveled to buy herbs,
brujeria
refers to black magic. A
tie
is an obscure form of a hex. When Lucia held her throat as she made the threat, her gesture was symbolic. A
tie
creates a blockage to bind the subject with negative energy and thoughts, creating paranoia.”
    “A violent threat,” Carmen said. “I’ve known Lucia a long time. I never knew her to invoke black magic.”
    “Lucia has a sophisticated knowledge of the variants of religion and the occult from south of the border,” Nick said. “Santeria may be her practice of choice, but in our conversations Lucia gave
me
lessons in obscure rituals of nontraditional belief systems. The hex she invoked this afternoon is irreversible. The locals who understand black magic will be threatened, and will probably scare the hell out of those who don’t. It’s a mind game—like voodoo.”
    “They can’t take the hex seriously. Her friends must know Lucia was crazed with grief,” I said.
    “They take her very seriously, sweetie,” Carmen said. “No one doubts her power to control minds.”
    “Bewitch an entire neighborhood?” I snickered. “Hexes escape reason. Only naïve people believe in the supernatural.” I caught Nick’s eye in the rearview mirror. “No offense.”
    “None taken.” He glanced at Carmen. “Liz likes a logical explanation for everything.”
    “I understand the comforting draw of symbolism. But I prefer to use logic to solve my problems,” I said. “Do you agree, Carmen?”
    “Intellectually, yes,” Carmen said. “But when I was a girl my parents and grandparents prayed to their Santeria statues on one side of our living room, and to Catholic saints on the other side. Childhood beliefs are hard to unlearn no matter how logic contradicts them. My family taught me to believe in a power beyond. I’m surprised, Liz. I thought you understood Lucia and Paco’s beliefs. Your mother believes in the supernatural.”
    “I respect the reverence Paco and Lucia have for Santeria and the influence it had on their lives,” I said. “On the other hand, I was raised by a mother who wouldn’t buy mechanical toys for us if Mercury was retrograde.”
    “Poor Liz.” Nick turned left on Wilshire Boulevard, through MacArthur Park. “What did you miss? Barbie’s convertible?”
    How did he know I wanted that damn pink car for my eighth birthday? “Say what you want, wise