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four to handle her, anyway. Ernie Soto shut down his computer and left.
    CeCe scrolled through messages. Jen, call her on the way to Mama’s. Who’s this? A Pasadena exchange, that IRS lawyer, Shapiro, again? She grabbed her briefcase and phone, punched the security code and slammed the door, late as usual and Mama would love her anyway, as usual.
    In her Land Rover she tapped Recent Calls, ignoring the attorney. Touch base with Jen, call him later. She pressed a headset and picked up a disposable cell phone.
    “Hi, babe.”
    “You’re such a sultry bitch.” She smiled at Jen’s reply. The girl loved her, for sure.
    “Heard you’re investigating something,” CeCe said.
    “Checking up on me?”
    “You know the game.”
    “I’m nervous, Ceece.”
    “It’s OK, nothing’s gonna go wrong. You’re the smart one, you’ll do fine.”
    “No you, well maybe a little,” Jen said, a cat being stroked. “I’m writing up the murder.”
    “Good, we gotta talk about the next one.”
    “Ceece, it’s too soon!”
    “Listen baby, he used to be a big-time dealer. Nobody’s gonna miss him, the cops won’t care.”
    “You sure?”
    “Trust me, honey. Look, I’m almost to Mama’s. It’s just you writing the reports?”
    “Yeah, babe.”
    “Do what you can. Long as McKuen and Reneaux are nervous about cops, they won’t be thinking about anything else. Gotta go, kisses.” She made a smooching sound, gave Jen a second to reply and ended the call.
    Two years of planning and still on track. The subjects appeared to suspect nothing. Six months of surveillance, and their movements were still routine. She licked her lips. Just a couple more weeks, finesse the timing. It’ll come together.
    _____
     
    Mama loved it when the girls were both there for dinner. It was nice enough for BeBe until CeCe cornered her. Eyes full of sisterly love, Cee asked if they could talk privately.
    BeBe’s jaw tightened. The voicemail. Cee wanted something. They climbed the stairs.
    “Sorry I didn’t call you back the other day, Cee.”
    “It’s OK.” They reached their old bedroom. “In person is better.” CeCe closed the door.
    “I love you, Bee.” She put her arm through BeBe’s and nuzzled her cheek. Cherishing it, BeBe couldn’t pull away.
    “I love you too, Cee, but you want something.” CeCe let her arm fall and moved to the window. She looked toward the cemetery, then at BeBe.
    “It’s no big deal,” she said. “If you can help, great.” BeBe sat on the bed. She tried on a hopeful expression, a half-smile.
    “I know you’re with LA County,” CeCe said. “You don’t have Federal connections, but maybe you know somebody.”
    She pulled one side of her mouth down. “Maybe you know a guy who knows a guy, huh?”
    BeBe couldn’t help it. She cracked a grin. “You’re talking about the IRS, right?”
    CeCe sighed. “Yes, our lovely Internal Revenue Service.”
    She grinned back, and twirled a pirouette, but the room was too small for the big woman’s ballet maneuver. She touched the ceiling for balance, and fell on the bed next to BeBe, laughing. Then she pushed herself up, stepped back to the window and struck a dramatic pose, arms folded, legs apart.
    BeBe giggled. She loved her sister but hated her dilemma. How did it happen? She was only twenty-five, a young lawyer. Her twin, her alter ego, was twice as mature. No, fifty times.
    “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, it’s all I can do, Cee.” CeCe studied herself in the mirror, smoothed her hair then turned back.
    “That’s all I want, Bee.” She held out her arms and they embraced.
    They went downstairs and helped Mama. Cousins expected any minute, the house was enveloped with the smell of ceviche , chile rellenos and peach pie. BeBe cracked a window in back and one in front for a cross draft, the air warm, aromas tantalizing and love palpable. She wondered how she could reconcile her feelings with her duty.
    Cee and she had a bond only twins knew.