“What is it? Talk to me.”
His hand clenched around the pack of cigarettes, his jaw set.
“Ricardo.”
A second went by, then two. His grip loosened and he pulled out a slightly bent cigarette, lit it and exhaled. “It never occurred to me to do that, you know?” he said quietly, eyes focused on the dark horizon, the guilt in his voice plain. “It was one of the first things I did when I was told the police had no more leads—I hired a P.I. to find Gabe’s kidnapper. But I didn’t do that for my best friend. It never crossed my mind.”
Unsure what to say or how to comfort him, Carol said nothing.
“Nelson blamed me for not sending Noel to rehab when he had his third overdose.”
Carol hissed, “That wasn’t your fault. Noel was a grown man.”
Ricardo exhaled smoke and said, “I know. But Monica and N
