When Perry awoke, the clock by his bedside read twelve o’clock. Noon? Shit, he had things he needed to do. Despite the long night, he couldn’t afford to sleep so late. Then he remembered the encounter at dawn. Dizzy joy mixed with a shadow of shame flashed through him. How could he have gotten so wild? Had he hurt Ike? The other man had denied it, but he had doubts.
He realized almost at once that the Ike was not there. Then, as he looked again at the clock, he figured out Ike had gotten up and gone to work hours ago. That provided Perry some relief and a bit of wiggle room. Now he would not have to face his roommate and what they’d done for a few more hours. Wouldn’t it be all right later?
In less than an hour, he was behind the wheel of his own truck heading out on a couple of fool’s errands, or at least that was what he expected they’d be. The mysterious El Feo was not about to step out and introduce himself. And what happened next to the two children he’d left at the shelter last night was really none of his business, although he hoped they would not go back to shantytown and the care of a drunken grandfather and a drug addict mother.
His own grandfather might have been strict, demanding a high standard of behavior and a good deal of work from Perry and his unfortunate younger brother, but the boys certainly did not have to deal with drunkenness or abject poverty. The little farm supported them at a level equal to most of their neighbors and friends. At times, Perry wished he had chosen to stay there instead of joining the army. If he had, he might now be calling it home.
He mulled over this and other things as he drove back up to Esperanza. He had no idea why, but a strange hunch told him a link existed between El Feo and the remains of the old town. He knew one older fellow who’d managed to stay on the payroll as a watchman and still lived in one of the houses outside the fence. Perhaps Julio could tell him something. He hadn’t checked on the old guy lately, anyway. Maybe it was time.
Just a mile or two below the turnoff to the mine and old town site, a black SUV with tinted windows almost blew him off the road. It roared by, passing him on a blind curve. For a few seconds, he held his breath, waiting to hear the crash as it met an oncoming vehicle around the corner. None came. Apparently, the road had been clear. His breath leaked out in a ragged sigh.
He rounded the curve and looked on up the highway as far as he could see. It wasn’t far, but the SUV was nowhere in sight. A sudden shiver slid down his spine. Although he had no idea why, something told him that SUV was a critical link in his search for El Feo.
The whole incident had happened so fast he hadn’t gotten a license number. Not a partial or even where it was from. It could have been New Mexico, New York or even Chihuahua, Mexico. He tried to focus on the vehicle, any striking characteristics about it. All he could bring to mind was a shiny black blur. He turned his truck onto the Esperanza road, a sick feeling growing in his gut.
* * * *
Ike squeezed the last water from the mop and stuck the handle into the rack before he hefted the mop bucket and dumped it into the sink in the courthouse utility room. He knew he was wearing a silly grin. He hoped no one had noticed.
Still, whenever he thought about the incredible morning he’d spent in Perry’s bed, he could not maintain his usual poker face. It had been too surprising, too spectacular to believe. Unexpected yet longed for, if he was honest. He had not believed it could or would ever happen, but it had.
He was tired, but it didn’t matter. After all, he’d only grabbed a couple of short naps in the past thirty-six hours. He’d never been one who required a lot of sleep, though, so he’d get through the day all right. And then tonight…
At that thought, he chided himself for the anticipation and eager wishes. Don’t be counting those chickens that ain’t hatched yet. You know better. Just when it looked like real luck was coming his way, something bad was usually about to happen. Seemed like it always did.
After he emptied the garbage and made sure he hadn’t missed a speck of dirt, he locked up the janitor’s closet and headed out the door. His next stop would be Dot’s. Unless Marco was there and wanted to work this afternoon, he’d catch up any dirty dishes from lunch and serve any afternoon customers who might come by so Dot could have a little more rest. She worked too long and too hard.
Then he’d be heading back to Perry’s. The deputy hadn’t told him much about what had happened, but he had a clear impression the night had been rough. A good long sleep after their mind-blowing sex—at least he hoped it had been that for Perry as well—should make the other man feel better.
He turned into the alley that ran behind Dot’s and had almost reached the café’s back door when a vehicle pulled up right beside him, so close the fender brushed his side. Wheeling around, he looked into the half-open window of a black SUV. Had the window not been partly lowered, he would not have been able to see inside. The tint on the glass was extremely dark. He knew what that implied, and it was not a good omen. The first thing he saw was the cannon-sized barrel of a 9mm semi-auto, about eighteen inches from him. Behind it, he glimpsed a swarthy, scarred face with a pair of the coldest eyes he’d ever seen.
“You don’t listen too good, do you, muchacho? We told you to get out. You’re still here, still poaching on our turf, peddling dope our channels didn’t supply. We don’t give no second chances, pendejo. Get in.”
The second door swung open just enough that he could slide through it onto the back seat. For a breath, he thought of running, yelling, anything but obeying. The damned gun made the decision for him. He’d never get a jump away.
“You’ve got the wrong guy,” he protested, as he slid in and shut the door. “I’m not pushing anything. I work, cleaning at the jail and doing dishes and cooking here at Dot’s. That’s all I do. I don’t want to go back to any juzgado. “
“Callete, holido. Everyone knows you lie. You’re going to go see el jefe. Then we find out what he wants to have done with you. Shut up. Now.”
The vehicle drove slowly up the alley before it turned the corner to go over to the highway, the one that led over the mountains to the west and past the turnoff to Esperanza. Once out of town, the driver picked up speed but not before. Apparently, he was taking no chances on getting stopped in town for reckless driving.
Once they were well up the highway, though, that caution seemed to disappear. The SUV whipped around one car and then another, finally passing a dusty pickup on a blind curve. Ike gulped. That looked exactly like Perry’s truck. No, it couldn’t be. He was home asleep or maybe by now waking to find the stew Ike had put in the fridge for him. He’d have no reason to be going up toward Esperanza.
The SUV did, though. The driver braked abruptly and swung onto the side road, spitting gravel that a recent rain had washed onto the pavement. When they reached the old town, the man drove in behind the row of houses and pulled the SUV into a leaning shed, out of sight from the road in front. The man with the gun told Ike to get out, then prodded him toward the back of the nearest house.
Coupled with shock and fear, exhaustion hit Ike hard as he labored up the five worn steps to the porch and the back door. The door opened before he reached it. Another villainous looking man stood there, his lips twisted in a sneer. This one was short and stocky, his head shaved bare in the style many in the drug culture adopted. Glancing around the room which seemed to be both living room and kitchen, Ike saw his cousin seated in a corner. He knew Chivo was not his friend, but he hadn’t expected the triumph and contempt he saw on his cousin’s face. What the fuck is going on?
Chivo’s smile bled wicked scorn. “You should not have come back, holido. You never belonged here. Your mama was my Tia Norma, and I wouldn’t say she slept with niggers, but she got you somewhere. Maybe it was your papa, or maybe his padre who was un hombre de sangre negro. They shoulda kept your black ass in that prison anyway.”
“You, you aren’t the drug boss. Can’t be. What’s your stake in this deal?”
“To get you out of the picture, and to help my good friends here. I created ‘El Feo’ to make a diversion.”
At that instant, the man with the 9mm kicked Ike’s legs out from under him. With a grunt of pain, he jolted to his knees, the shock ricocheting through his bones. Unable to stop the downward momentum, he put both hands on the floor to keep from falling flat on his face. He had to pull them back fast to avoid the crunch of the gunman’s booted foot.
The next voice seemed out of place. A slender man emerged from elsewhere in the house. He spoke quietly, using good English with hardly any accent at all. “So, are you not the one calling himself El Feo and trying to break in on the turf of Nuestros Familia? That’s very unwise. Our friend Carlos says you are.”
“I can’t speak to that,” Ike said. “But you’ve got the wrong man. I don’t do drugs and I damn well don’t push them. I may have been in prison, but I have no desire to go back. I don’t want to end up dead, either. I don’t know this El Feo dude, if he even exists. Damn sure don’t like being mistaken for him.”
The man laughed, with a sound like a saw blade binding in a hard bit of oak. “Oh, so you admit to having been in prison. Have you violated your parole then? Is that deputy supposed to be your keeper and guard dog? Does he know about your drug dealing?”
Experience told Ike the less he said, the better. Anything could be twisted or spun to use against him. He also wanted to keep Perry out of this as well as he could. Still he knew he’d better answer. “No parole,” he muttered. “I’m a free man.”
“You were until you crossed my path, you mean. Can you walk out the door now? Can you come or go as you please? I think not.”
The man with the gun aimed a kick at Ike, who still knelt on the floor. He rolled enough to soften the impact but it still hurt.
“Come on, patron, let’s get rid of this piece of shit. He may not be a threat but he’s a nuisance.”
The slender man laughed again. “Ah, Alesandro mi’jo, you are too impatient. We can get information from this man only with the right techniques. He’s been beaten before. That won’t do the job. Anyone who’s been in prison can stand pain. We’ll just make him wait and worry for a while. Maybe we can lure some cops up here and get rid of a few that have showed too much curiosity and concern about our business.”
Ike struggled not to cringe at those last words. No! He was not going to be the cause of Perry being injured or killed. Even if the deputy was not rapidly becoming much more, he had been a true friend and benefactor from the first. Ike would not repay that by being a tool to his downfall. How, though, could he prevent that from happening? Should he just admit to being El Feo and let them punish him as they chose?
Alesandro jerked him to his feet and shoved him toward the doorway through which the boss had emerged. From there, they veered right to reach another door, which turned out to be a closet. The hood shoved Ike in and slammed the door with a solid thud. The next sounds he heard made him think they’d secured it with a padlock. Only the thinnest thread of light leaked under the door.
He’d always hated closed dark spaces. Although he’d learned to control the worst of his phobia, he felt clammy sweat break out on his body and had to fight the urge to slam against the walls and door in hopes of finding some way to break free. However, it could be worse. He was not bound or trussed up. Steadying himself with a few deep slow breaths, he pushed up from the floor where Alesandro’s shove had sent him sprawling. He found he could stand and move a step in either direction. A long arm’s length to the rear, he felt a wall.
* * * *
Perry almost stayed longer than he should have, considering he had another split shift to work. He drove a little faster than normal when he headed back to Riata. Julio had given him a lot to think about. Really, the only question now was how much to pursue while he was on duty and what might be better done privately, out of uniform and in his own vehicle.
He parked in the usual spot and let himself in through the back door, expecting to find Ike in the kitchen. The house was empty. Both dogs came to greet him, Badger clearly aggrieved that he had left her home and the little red guy simply wanting some attention. From the looks of things, Ike had not been back since he left that morning. Since it was now past midafternoon, worry began to gnaw in Perry’s gut.
Had he hurt the other man, scared him, offended him? Although he’d thought he was learning what to expect from Ike, he realized how little he really knew about him. Ike seemed quiet, easy-going, and laid back. He rarely took exception to anything. Perhaps, though, that was just a survival mechanism he’d developed to make it through his years in prison. Now that he was free, would he cut and run if things did not go as he felt they should?
No. Perry shook his head. Ike would never leave Rojo. If he’d taken off, the dog would surely be gone, too. Still, he walked down the hall and looked into Ike’s room. Everything was tidy, bed neatly made and clothes—not many but the extra jeans and shirts he’d bought recently—folded carefully and stacked on the old table. He hadn’t left. From all the signs, Perry felt sure of it.
He had to get into uniform and head out. Maybe he’d swing by Dot’s and see if Ike was there. Something might have come up so Ike volunteered to stay longer than usual. Yeah, that had to be what had happened. He told himself he was reassured as he hurried to dress, grab his gear, and head out. At the back door, he paused, debating. Should he leave Badger to keep the littler dog company or take her, as usual?
“What do you want to do, Badger girl? You can stay here and babysit if you want to. I think I’ll be okay.”
She sat, head tilted a few degrees as her tail fanned a slow arc on the wooden floor. The smaller dog edged up beside her, bright eyes as intent on Perry’s face as hers were.
“I can’t take you both,” Perry said. “Badger’s kind of official, but, little guy, you’re not. I’m not sure how you’d behave or if you’d try to sneak out and run off. Ike would kick my ass if I lost you.”
The small dog whined, very softly. All at once, Perry had the strong sense something was wrong. Ike hadn’t had the pup very long, but they’d built a real bond. The dog sensed something. In his gut, Perry did, too. Ike was in trouble.
“Come on.” The instant he opened the door, both dogs dashed out past him, heading straight for the official SUV. Well, that takes care of that. He opened the door on the driver’s side and they both jumped in, Badger with her usual easy hop and the little guy with a powerful bound. Badger took her usual place on the passenger side, while the smaller dog crouched beside her, wedging his body tightly against hers.
“You keep him in line, girl. It’s your responsibility.”
Badger just gave him a look. You know you don’t have to tell me that, written all over her face.
He went to Dot’s first. No, Ike was not there, and Marco had not seen him.
“He was gonna come in about two,” the injured vet said, “but he never showed. Not like him. Ike’s reliable.”
Perry nodded. “Yep. I have a bad feeling that something has happened. I wish I knew where to start looking.”
Marco hesitated a breath. “Can’t help you. Well, there was one thing. About the time Ike was due to get here, I heard a car come down the alley. I was elbow deep in dishwater, and by the time I went over and looked out, it had gone on by. Shiny black SUV with the darkest fuckin’ windows I ever seen.”
The one that passed me, going up to Esperanza. The time would be about right. Oh boy, Ike is prob’ly in deep shit.
“Thanks, Marco. That’s exactly what I needed to find out.” He wheeled around and almost ran back to his unit. Time to go up the Esperanza road again. Given what Julio had told him, he knew where to begin his search.