BELOVED--17

* * *

Alejandro Hernandez had sat down on his favorite stool in his favorite bar not far from Berto's parents' house in Monterey at 5 p.m. on Friday night. He sat there until 10 p.m. Upon arrival, he'd immediately started doing Tequila shooters, chased with Corona beer, and five hours later hadn't deviated from that pattern. At one point he had popped some X. The big man had gotten so drunk and high as the evening had progressed that he could hardly sit on the bar stool, but the bartender had been afraid of him and loathe to cut him off. Alejandro had finally ordered a couple of bean burritos from the kitchen to put something in his stomach, but even after he ate them, he was drunk as a skunk. He had wobbled his way to the men's room periodically, and when he had come back, started drinking more. He had finally passed out and fallen off his bar stool on to the floor. The bartender had a couple of guys carry him over to a table in the corner and put him in a chair.

Everybody in the neighborhood knew Hernandez was mean enough when he was sober, but when he was drunk and drugged out, even guys who could take care of themselves under normal circumstances stayed out of his way.

The big man had snoozed away with his face on the table until 11:30 p.m., when he'd awakened and staggered back to the men's room again. When he'd come out, he'd settled his bar tab, and had gone out into the parking lot, breathing in the cool, damp night air. Meandering around the lot until he'd found his car, he'd opened the door and sat in the driver's seat. He opened the glove compartment and removed a crack pipe and some granules of the substance in a plastic bag. Loading the pipe, he'd held a lighter to it and let the smoke fill his lungs, and soon he'd been flying.

Having finally achieved what to him had seemed perfect mental clarity, he'd reached under the front seat of the car and pulled out a hunting knife, tucking it into his belt. Dragging himself out of the car then, and leaving it where it was in the lot, he'd walked the half block down to his brother's house and let him himself in with the key he'd never given back after he'd been kicked out by his sister-in-law.

By the time he was finished, he'd vowed to himself, he'd know where Berto was hiding.

* * *

Ian Carson's cell phone, sitting in its charger on a dresser in the bedroom, rang insistently at 8:30 Saturday morning. Ian had just gotten out of the shower and dried off. Mary was still snoozing in bed.

"Carson," Ian said.

"Ian, this is Tom Ridenour. I just had a call from the Monterey P.D., and I have bad news for you."

Ian groaned. "What's going on."

"Since talking with you last, I've had a Monterey police squad driving by the Hernandez house in Monterey on their regular patrols, and they saw that the front door was open when they passed by at 4 o'clock this morning. They stopped and went inside. They found a man and a woman, presumably Mr. and Mrs. Eduardo Hernandez, tied up and murdered after being tortured by a person or persons unknown. You and I know it was Alejandro's work. We don't know what information he got out of his brother and sister-in-law about Berto's and your own family's whereabouts before he killed them with a knife, but we'd better prepare for the worst." Ridenour paused. "Do you want to tell the boy, or should I come up there and break the news."

Ian was stunned into silence for a moment. Then he groaned again, and sat down hard in a chair, almost unable to speak.

"God have mercy!" he said finally, lapsing into silence again, struggling with shock. "No, I'll tell Berto, Tom," he finally gasped. "Thanks for letting me know. Are the Monterey P.D. looking for Alejandro?"

"Yes. And I've asked them to keep me informed."

"Thanks, Tom. I'll get back with you."

They hung up, and Ian went over to the bed where Mary was awake and looking at him curiously.

"Honey..." Ian couldn't bring himself to tell her at first.

"Ian? What is it?"

He stared at her in silence, and then blurted it out. "Berto's parents. They've been murdered."

Mary stared at him in disbelief, and then put a hand over her eyes and began to weep. Ian crawled back into bed with her, embracing her, saying nothing.

When she stopped crying, she looked at her husband.

"I know it's selfish of me to be thinking about this now," Mary said, "but thank you for insisting we get out of San Francisco and hide out. It could have been any of us, you know."

"I know," Ian said. "But it's not, thank God. Our job right now is to help Berto. I don't think he has any close relatives left except for Alejandro." He took a tissue and gently wiped the tears from his wife's face. "I promise you that we're all going to be safe, and that Alejandro Hernandez and Walter Emrick are going to pay for everything they've done!!"

"Aren't you sorry you're a defense attorney when things like this happen?" Mary asked. "I don't know how you do it sometimes," she said, shaking her head.

"I know exactly what you're saying," Ian said. "But I do it because everybody is entitled to a good defense under the law in this country. And doing it has saved a lot of innocent people from being wrongly convicted, you know that. It's a matter of values. I'd rather have a guilty person go free in our system than have an innocent person be deprived of his freedom, and sometimes his life, by the government."

"I know you're right, but it's hard to swallow that in some cases."

"I know it is." Ian looked at her with concern for her in his eyes. "I need to get dressed and talk to Berto."

"Let me shower first, and we'll do it together," Mary said, wiping a few more tears from her cheeks.

"All right, dear." Ian kissed her and moved off the bed so Mary could get up, and she went into the bathroom. Ian heard the shower start running as he reluctantly started to get dressed for the agonizing task that lay ahead.

When Mary was showered, dressed and ready, they slowly went down the back stairs to find Catherine giving William, Dan, Berto and Mark their breakfast in the breakfast nook. The guys were all talking a mile a minute.

"Where are Cam and Kevin?" Mary asked.

"They're at Marin General," Catherine said, smiling as she put a huge platter of bacon and eggs and a plate of toast on the table. The boys began to help themselves. "Heather went into labor last night. I'm hoping they'll call and give us the good news we have a new baby before long."

Mary burst into tears as the boys looked at her with surprise and concern. Ian put his arms around his wife and kissed her, and then pulled the two women out of the breakfast nook and into the kitchen.

"What's the matter?" Catherine asked.

"There's no easy way to tell you this," Ian said quietly. "Berto's parents were murdered last night in Monterey."

Catherine dropped the glass she had just carried out to the kitchen to refill with orange juice for Dan. It fell to the floor and shattered. She stood there dumbly looking down at the shards of glass, tears welling up in her eyes.

Ian took Catherine in his arms and held her as Mary went over to the closet for a dustpan and broom. On automatic pilot, she swept up the glass and put it in the garbage. William stood in the doorway with a worried look on his face, staring at the adults.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"We'll tell you in a little while, Son," Ian said sadly. "Go eat your breakfast."

Sensing that something was very wrong, the boys in the breakfast nook finished eating their meal without speaking. The huge platter of bacon and eggs was empty when they were done.

At that point, Ian and Mary took Berto into the study and shut the door while Catherine gave the others the bad news.

William, Dan and Mark were stunned, unable to believe their ears. They helped Catherine clean up the kitchen without saying a word, and then went up the back stairs to Dan's and Mark's room.

"Oh, God," William said as they sat down.

The boys didn't know what to say or do as they looked at one another bleakly in silence.