Monday morning Mo sat next to Susan in the gallery of the courtroom, nervously clasping her hands in her lap. Grace’s father, Hector Padillo was being arraigned this morning. DCFS had filed the charges against him; Child abuse, child endangerment, child abandonment. But Mo and Susan didn’t want Grace to have to testify, and without her testimony, who knew what the court would do.

The case was called and the D.A. presented the evidence. Grace’s X-rays, the report from the ER doctor, and Mo’s own report from the incident in the street. The public defender made a weak case. Stating Mr. Padillo had been in the bathroom when Grace ran out into the street and he had failed to lock the front door. Why he had failed to report her missing for the next twenty-four hours was never mentioned.

However, the D.A. brought it up when she made her closing statements. Grace sighed in relief when the judge sided for the state, but was incensed when he set bail at only one-hundred thousand dollars. The man owned a house for Christ’s sake. He only needed ten percent to post bond. That was only ten thousand dollars. The asshole could possibly make bail, and Mo didn’t like that possibility.

“What the fuck, Susan? How could he set the bail so low?”

“Shh, wait ‘til we get outside,” Susan said taking her arm and leading her from the courtroom. “I know it seems like a low bail, but in reality, it was actually pretty high for the crimes he was accused of. He doesn’t have a record. He has a job. On paper, he’s a model citizen. We’re lucky he didn’t get a remand.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?”

“No, honey, I’m not. Unfortunately, that’s the way the system works. Why are you so shook? He won’t get anywhere near Grace. We’ll make sure of that.”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy if I tell you.”

Susan arched a brow at her. “Really? Oh, this I gotta hear. Lay it on me.”

Mo turned and paced down the hall and back, she stopped in front of Susan. “I met a man.”

Susan laughed. “Well, that was the last thing I expected to hear.” Mo started to turn for another pace and Susan grabbed her arms. “Hey, settle down and just spit it out.”

Mo shrugged and gave her a sardonic look. “He’s psychic.”

Susan cackled. “You have got to be shitting me? You? Miss ‘I am Army, hear me roar’ with a psychic? Oh my god! That is hilarious! Talk about karma being a bitch. You don’t believe in psychics or any spiritual crap.”

Mo knew she was blushing, she could feel the heat crawling up her cheeks. “Yeah, well, I’ve kind of had to reverse my thinking.”

“And why is that?”

“Because Mataus is the real deal. He knows things. Things he couldn’t find out any other way than through his woo woo stuff. He sees them in his dreams.”

“O K A Y.”

“Yeah, I know. It took me a while to accept it too. But, he’s for real, Susan.”

“All right, if you say so. Now tell me what psychic man has said that has you so spooked?”

Mo spotted a bench and moved to have a seat, Susan followed and sat beside her. With a huge sigh she said, “He saw a man planting a bomb in my truck.”

The shock on Susan’s face would have been funny if it wasn’t for the situation. Susan took both her hands. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“Was it Hector Padillo?”

“We don’t know. He never saw his face. He only saw him from the back, but who else could it be? Who else would want to kill me?”

“Oh God, sweetie. No wonder you don’t want the dirt bag to make bail.”

“Yeah. No shit.”

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do to change the ruling.”

“I know. Can I file a restraining order?”

“No, not at this point. He hasn’t done anything yet.”

“Great.”

“But, we won’t give out the information where Grace is living. That’s DCFS policy.”

“Okay. I guess that’s the best we can do.”

Susan hugged her and Mo left the building and headed for her truck.

* * * *

Hector Padillo sat in his cell and fumed. Those two Anglo women were the cause of all his problems, he was sure of it. He saw them sitting there with their heads together whispering to each other. Perceived the nervousness they displayed waiting for the verdict. They were at the center of this and he would find out how.

A guard came to the cell door. “Visitor for you. Step to the door and turn your back, hands behind your back.”

Hector complied, the perfect prisoner. He needed to get out of here and he wouldn’t make any trouble. The guard clamped the handcuffs on his wrists and led him from the cell to a meeting room. He clipped the cuffs to the table.

The bail bondsman walked into the room and Hector put on his best fake smile. He could be charming when he needed to be. That’s how he’d managed to capture the attention of the whore he’d married. Grace’s mother, the puta.

Hector nodded to the man. “I would shake your hand, but I am somewhat incapacitated,” he said self- deprecatingly.

The bondsman nodded. “So it would seem. Do you have collateral for your bond?”

“I do. I own my home. Two-twenty-one south Oak street,” Hector crowed.

“You own the property outright? Or do you have a mortgage?”

“I own it outright. I inherited it from my grandmother,” Hector informed him.

“Okay. That should be sufficient to secure your bond. Let’s get this paperwork filled out and we’ll get you out of here.”

Malicious delight danced in Hector’s mind. He needed out of this rat hole. He had a brat to get back and a score to settle with those Anglo bitches.

* * * *

Mataus was putting the finishing touches on the bayou painting. A little light and shading and it would be done and ready for the gallery opening. His mood was bright. The weekend with Cara and Grace had been wonderful and the painting looked great. Contrary to many artists, Mataus wasn’t angsty or morose. He painted emotionally, but that emotion was usually joy, peace and serenity. That was what he tried to share with people in his work, the peace of nature, and it brought him great pleasure.

Sunlight streamed through the window giving the room a brilliant orange glow, like a flash, a super nova, momentarily blinding Mataus. He dropped his brush, and covered his eyes with his arm. Then darkness descended, like midnight on a starless night. Something malevolent crawled across his skin.

The vision appeared before him like a movie on a screen.

A man sat at a workbench, in what looked like a garage. Again all he saw was his back. No shirt. His tattoo stark against his brown skin. Greasy hair plastered to his bent head. Before him on the bench sat a block of what looked like red clay or plastic. Wires. A tube with silver liquid inside. Needle nose pliers.

Sweat ran down the man’s neck and he viciously wiped it away. Concentrating on the materials in front of him. Piecing them together. Wiping his hands down the sides of his filthy jeans.

As quickly as the vision had appeared, it disappeared, and Mataus’ studio was back to normal. He, however, was not. He needed to call Harley and tell her what he saw. Matt stood on shaky legs and staggered to the kitchen. He poured a glass of water and downed it in a single draw. Waking dreams were an unusual occurrence for Mataus. The Fates were pressing him hard on this one, and while he was grateful for the heads up, their methods were disconcerting to say the least.

Taking a seat at the kitchen table he pulled his cell from his pocket and speed dialed his cousin.

“Hola, primo. Como esta?” Harley answered.

“I had another dream,” he said without preamble.

“You’re dreaming in the middle of the day? Damn boy, you really are a lazy ass.”

“I wasn’t sleeping, prima. I was at my easel and it hit me. Wide awake and bam. Vision.”

“No shit? Wow. Okay, so hit me with it. What did you see?”

“The scumbag putting the bomb together. I saw blocks of orange clay, wires, a tube with silver liquid, tools, all on a workbench in front of him.”

“Orange clay, huh? Sounds like Semtex. The tube sounds like a Mercury switch, not good, it means the bomb could go off before he wants it to, and Semtex isn’t as stable as C-4. Anything else about when or where he’s going to plant it?”

“No, just the workbench.”

“Okay. Well, we have one more piece of the puzzle. We’ll go from there. Did you find your girl yet?”

Matt laughed. “Oh God, I am such an ass! I forgot I haven’t talked to you. Yes, I found her. I can’t wait for you to meet her. Maybe you and Beau could come for dinner this weekend? She is fostering a little girl about Landry’s age, Grace, and they could play together.”

“Whoa, a ready-made family. Are you sure you’re up for that, primo?”

Mataus bristled. “Of course I am. You know how much I love Landry. I adore kids.”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. It’s a valid question, primo. Relationships are hard enough, adding a kid into the mix just makes them harder.”

“Thanks so much for your vote of confidence.”

“You know I don’t mean it that way, Matty. I just…”

“Yeah, I know, you’re just being a typical nagging cousin.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark!”

“Damn straight.”

“So, tell me about your lady.”

“You’ll love her. She’s a lot like you. A hard ass. She was in the Army. A diesel mechanic of all things. She owns a ranch out in Prairieville and runs some cattle, but her passion is the program she runs for underprivileged children. It’s called Mighty Mo’s, and she teaches them to ride and take care of the horses. She’s great with the kids.”

“You and a soldier? I don’t see that.”

Matt laughed. “She didn’t either. She didn’t believe in psychics and thought I was a kook when we met.”

“I’d have liked to have been a fly on the wall for that meeting.” Harley laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll just bet. Anyway, so you think you can make it this weekend?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I gotta meet this woman.”

“Great, four o’clock on Saturday? I’ll grill some hot dogs and hamburgers?”

“You got it. I’ll bring the potato salad.”

“Awesome, see you then. Love you, prima.”

“Love you too, adios, primo.”

“Adios, prima.”

* * * *

Mo stopped at a drive through on her way home and picked up burgers and fries for lunch for her and Grace. She wanted to give the little girl a treat, even if she didn’t tell her why. Plastering a bright smile on her face she threw the back door open.

“I’m home!” she called.

Grace scurried into the room and latched onto her legs.

“I missed you,” she said. “Pick me up.” Little arms reached for her.

“Let me put this stuff on the table,” Mo said and Grace squealed.

“Happy meal!” Grabbing one of the bags and racing to the table to open it.

“Oh, I see where I rate now.” Grace looked up from her meal and laughed, left it and rushed back to Mo’s side, once again reaching up with her arms. “Hug, hug!”

Mo picked her up and swung her in a circle, giving her a big bear hug.

“That’s more like it.” She smacked her cheek with a wet kiss and then plopped her back on the floor. “Now, go eat your lunch,” she said, tapping her bottom to scoot her toward the table.

Shannon smiled at her. “You look like you’re in a good mood. Everything go well?”

Keeping the fake smile in place, Mo said, “Not at all, but I don’t want Grace to know what’s going on. They did indict him, but they set bail at only one hundred thousand dollars. So, I am not a happy camper.”

Shannon frowned. “Well, at least you got the indictment.”

“Yeah, that’s something, anyway.” Mo’s phone rang, she pulled it from her pocket and checked the caller ID. “It’s Susan. Hello?”

“Crap, well we figured that. Thanks for calling.” Mo hung up the phone and scowled at Shannon. “He made bail.”

“Great. Nothing we can do about it. I guess.”

“No. It is what it is.”

“That’s a fact. We’ll just have to watch our backs.”

“I’ll watch yours, if you watch mine.”

“You got it, Sis. I gotta get going, Mike is waiting for me. You okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Thanks for babysitting this morning.”

“No problem, Grace is a doll. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” Mo kissed her cheek and Shannon headed out the backdoor. Mo sat down at the table and pulled her own meal from the white paper bag. Just as she took a big bite of hamburger her phone rang again.

“Ring, ring,” Grace mimicked.

Quickly chewing and swallowing, Mo managed to answer before the call went to voicemail.

“Hello,” she said breathlessly.

“Hey,” Mataus said. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, not really. I just had a mouth full of food. Sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry.” He laughed. “We all have to eat. In fact, that’s why I’m calling. I invited my cousin and her family to dinner on Saturday to meet you and Grace, so I hope you can come. I’m going to grill out.”

“Sounds great. You want me to bring anything?”

“You can if you want to, but you don’t have to. Harley is bringing potato salad, I’m making hot dogs and hamburgers.”

“Okay, how about I make some baked beans?”

“Mmm, yummy.”

“Beans, beans, beans,” Grace chanted.

“I think Grace likes that idea.” Mo laughed.

“I can hear that,” Mataus said. “I miss you.”

“Aww, aren’t you sweet. I miss you too.”

“How did things go at court this morning?”

“Ugg, don’t ask. We got an indictment, but I just heard he made bail.”

“Shit, are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“That sucks.”

“Royally.”

“When can I see you again?”

“I want to stick close to home for the next few days. I want Grace to feel safe and secure. You’re welcome to come out any time.”

“I understand. I have to get these paintings finished for my gallery showing, but I’ll make time to come out and visit. How about I bring dinner out tomorrow night?”

“I’d love that.”

“It’s a date. See you then.”

“Bye.” Mo hung up with a smile on her face.

“Grace is done.” The little girl looked up at her with a ketchup smeared face and smiled.

“Did you eat it or wear it?” Mo asked.

“I eat it! It yummy!” she said rubbing her tummy.

“I can see that. Okay, let’s wash your face.” Mo walked to the sink and grabbed a washcloth. She wiped off Grace’s hands and face. “Let me finish up and then we’ll go outside and play.”

“Yay! I want to play!” Grace bounced in her chair, swinging her legs back and forth and fidgeting non-stop. Mo ate quickly and tossed the trash in the garbage.

“Okay, let’s go run off some of that energy.” She grabbed Grace’s hand and led her outside. “Do you want to play tag?”

Grace cocked her head to the side. “What is tag?”

“You run and I try and tag you. Which means, touch you. If I touch you then you’re it and you have to try and tag me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Grace squealed.

“Okay. Ready, set, go!” Grace took off running and Mo tore off after her. They chased each other around the yard for half an hour before Mo could see that Grace was tiring. Mo caught her in her arms and swung her up and over her shoulder.

“I think it’s time for this little girl to take a nap.”

“Grace not sleepy,” she grumbled.

“Well, Mo is sleepy.” Mo slid her around until she was cradled in her arms.

“Really?” Grace asked with a yawn.

“Yep, I’m all worn out.”

“You take a nap with me?”

“Sure, we’ll take a nap together.”

“You read me a story?

“You little finagler. Yes, I’ll read you a story. Let’s go pick one out.”

Going to Grace’s room, they picked out a Dr. Seuss book, One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish Blue Fish, then went to Mo’s room and climbed under the covers. Grace was asleep before Mo read page three.