For a long moment there’s silence, and I think Ramon has hung up the phone. But no—I can hear him on his end, breathing quietly. I’m tempted to ask another question when he speaks.
“What do you want?”
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“About what happened tonight.”
“I think it’s pretty clear what happened. You assaulted law enforcement.”
“Sorry about that. But to be fair, I did warn you.”
“Who are you, really?”
“I told you—I’m a tourist.”
“I initially bought your story about driving along the road and seeing the smoke. It seemed plausible that’s how you ended up at the murder scene. Now, I know you were full of shit.”
“How so?”
“I’m not going to waste my time going over everything that happened today. Why did you call me?”
“Because I want to make it clear I’m not your enemy.”
This answer clearly isn’t what he had expected, causing him to chuckle.
“You certainly have an interesting way of showing it.”
“Again, Ramon, I am not the enemy. In fact, I’d like to think I could be your friend.”
“What does that mean?”
“From what I can tell we both have the same objective.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, letting this sink in, before he clears his throat.
“Are you talking about the Devil?”
“Right now I want to find this guy just as much as you do. You seem like a straight shooter, Ramon. Which makes me think you play by the rules. You want to catch this guy, but you also need to follow the law. But me … I don’t give a shit about that.”
Again he’s quiet for a long moment before he speaks.
“Why were you at La Miserias tonight?”
“From what I heard the shooting was retribution for Ernesto Diaz’s death.”
The mere mention of Ernesto Diaz causes him to pause.
“How do you know about Ernesto Diaz?”
“Word travels fast. Is it true?”
He’s quiet for another beat, and then sighs.
“As far as we can tell, yes.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why was the town targeted for retribution? They clearly had nothing to do with Diaz’s death.”
Ramon snorts a derisive laugh.
“Why is the sky blue? Why do bad things happen to good people? That’s just the way it is. Fernando Morales is a bully. He likes to pick on people weaker than him. For some reason he felt Diaz’s death needed payback, but he clearly didn’t know who was responsible. So he took it out on the town. Why do you care, anyway?”
I don’t answer. I’m picturing the town square. Those twenty-eight dead bodies. The bride’s dress soaked dark with blood.
Ramon says, “What were you looking for earlier today?”
I blink, the question catching me off guard.
“What?”
“At the murder scene. After we had spoken. Before I told you you could leave. What were you looking for down on the beach?”
“I wasn’t looking for anything.”
“Whatever it is you were looking for, we will find it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But just remember what I told you—I’m not the enemy.”
“That still doesn’t excuse what happened tonight.”
“I guess it doesn’t.”
“You took my partner’s gun.”
“Yes.”
“You need to give it back.”
“Maybe one of these days.”
“If my partner or I see you again, we’ll have no choice but to arrest you.”
“Then let’s hope you don’t see me again. Good night, Ramon.”
From where I am on the roof of the building across the street, I have a clear view of Ramon standing in his kitchen. He waits there for a moment, holding the phone away from his head like he isn’t sure the conversation we just had was real. Then he sets the phone in the receiver and wanders out of view.
I stay on the roof for another couple minutes. Until all the lights go out in the house. Until it’s clear that everybody is in bed asleep.
I stay there another half hour, watching the street, making sure nobody else is watching the house, before I decide it’s time to head back to Gabriela’s. I’m exhausted, but I’m not sure yet I want to sleep. With the smell of those three charred bodies still fresh in my memory, I’m worried what nightmares will come.