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what Albano meant. Ray-Ray lived for this shit, you could just tell.
    Melanie turned back to the room. They were entitled to search anything in plain view, incident to what was, if nothing else, a lawful arrest on immigration charges. Unfortunately, the only things she saw were a gruesome painting of Christ on the cross, a table with a half-eaten breakfast of cold tortillas, and a squat, prune-faced
abuela
in a shapeless polyester dress.
    The old lady glared at Melanie. “Why you bother my Juan Carlos? He no sell drugs. He good boy.”
    If there was one thing marriage had taught Melanie, it was that you could live with a person for years and still not have a clue what they were up to.
    “Well, if he’s such an altar boy,” she replied, “why did he just jump out the window?”
     
8
     
    MELANIE RUSHED INTO the big conference room carrying her Starbucks and muffin, only to find she was stressing out for nothing. Ten past nine, and nobody else had arrived yet. Ray-Ray Wong must still be where she’d left him fifteen minutes earlier, when she decided she couldn’t possibly survive this meeting without caffeine—sitting in one of the interview rooms on the sixth floor with Juan Carlos Peralta. Peralta had signed a waiver of speedy arraignment and agreed to talk. And they had plenty to ask him about, starting with the twelve glassines of heroin found stuffed in his sock at the time of his arrest. That would be the first order of business as soon as the meeting ended.
    Much as Melanie sympathized with Luis Reyes, maybe this whole thing was cut-and-dried, after all. She didn’t want to believe it. Carmen had looked so sweet in that picture, and Melanie couldn’t help identifying with her.
La raza
and all that, being a poor girl in a rich kids’ school. But facts were facts. Carmen’s boyfriend was undeniably a heroin dealer. Carmen wanted to hang with the cool girls, and she’d found the ticket. It made sense.
    The second Melanie dropped into a chair, it hit her how much she missed that little
niña
at home. Maya would’ve woken up by now and found her mommy gone. Melanie glanced around the empty room, then jumped up and hastily dialed her house from the telephone on the credenza. Sandy Robinson, her baby-sitter, reported that Steve had just left and that Maya’s fever was down. The medication was working this time,
gracias a Dios
. Sandy held the receiver up to Maya’s ear, and Melanie talked baby talk into the phone. Bernadette glided in, caught her doing that, and looked at her like she was crazy. People with no kids didn’t get it. Or maybe it was just that Bernadette didn’t. Melanie hung up fast and took her seat before she got yelled at.
    Bernadette was even more heavily made up than usual, wearing a tight crimson pantsuit with gold buttons that matched her brightly colored hair and showed off her chest. She sat at the head of the table.
    “So, what do you think?” she asked. “Great color for TV, right?”
    “You’ll stand out,” Melanie said diplomatically.
    “You, on the other hand, look like something the cat dragged in.”
    “Gee, thanks. Maybe you forgot, but I’ve been up all night.”
    “Honestly, girlfriend, one late night and you’re toast. It takes stamina to play with the big kids.”
    Ray-Ray Wong strode in and shook hands with Bernadette.
    “By the way, two new agents are coming to this meeting,” Bernadette said as Ray sat down next to Melanie. “Vito and I agreed it’s worth staffing up so we can resolve this case quickly. One is a detective named Bridget Mulqueen, who’s on your squad already, I understand, Ray-Ray.”
    “Jeez Louise! Not Gidget!” he exclaimed.
    “That’s more emotion than I’ve seen from you since we met, Ray,” Melanie said. “What’s wrong with her?”
    “Nepotism hire,” he muttered.
    “Oh, come on, that’s an exaggeration,” Bernadette said.
    Ray-Ray fixed her with a withering stare.
    “All
right
, maybe,” Bernadette conceded after a