“I’m working.”
“You always say that.”
“This time I really am working.” Serge circled a spot on the map in ballpoint. “Something big’s come up.”
“We’re tired of being stuck in this room.”
“Why aren’t you taking advantage of the pool?” asked Serge.
“Because we were waiting to go to dinner!” said Country.
“We fucked up and believed you,” said City. “This is just like when you ditched us on the side of the road.”
“Except worse,” said Country. “It’s a perpetual ditch. Popping in and out. Stringing us along with promises.”
“I promise.” Serge rummaged through his hanging toiletry bag. “Just let me wrap this up.”
“You’re doing it again,” said City. “At least last time we could get on with our lives.”
Serge dug through all the pockets, then started again with the first.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Where are my car keys?”
“Andy took ’em.”
Serge’s head swung. “Andy’s not in the room?”
“Duh!”
“But I told him to stay put,” said Serge. “Where’d he go?”
“He took your keys, so I guess somewhere else.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
City took a hit. “What’s the big deal?”
“Oh, Andy, Andy, not again!”
“Again what?”
“When did he leave?”
“Just before you came back from getting ice,” said Country. “Surprised you didn’t bump into him in the hall.”
Serge grabbed his map off the dresser and ran out.
“When are we going to dinner?”
Students in the next room flipped quarters into shot glasses.
Serge charged through the door. “Need to borrow your car.”
“Here…”
Keys flew across the room and broke a mirror.
Serge jumped in a station wagon and raced south.
SOUTH OF MIAMI
A ’73 Challenger rolled down a quiet residential street with burglar bars and neglected lawns.
Andy slowed, reading mailbox numbers. He reached what he was looking for and stopped at the curb. A microfilm printout in his lap, the old Herald photo of the arrest. Andy looked up at the hacienda. New roof and trees, but not much else had changed. A Delta 88 and a late-model Mercedes sat out front.
He drove off.
The Challenger parked seven blocks away at a baseball field with a rusted Pepsi scoreboard. Standard getaway vehicle placement from the movies. Andy set out on foot. The Glock slipped from his waistband into his underwear. He stopped to pull it up.
The front door of a hacienda opened. Juanita strolled to the driveway. A Mercedes backed out.
There’d been better days.
Guillermo had disappointed her again. Not only that, but Serge had depleted her crew. To recruit reinforcements, she now was compelled to do what she hadn’t in years. But Juanita could still drive to the jail in her sleep.
Five blocks down the road: “What’s this?”
She drove past a young man trotting up the sidewalk the other way, glancing around suspiciously.
Juanita looked in the rearview. A gun suddenly fell from Andy’s belt. He quickly grabbed it off a lawn.
Juanita smiled. Obviously green, but already into the life. The day’s fortune had just changed. She made a wide U-turn in a vacant intersection.
Andy jogged through another cross street, holding his stomach. Three blocks to go.
A Mercedes pulled alongside. The passenger window went down. “Need a lift?”
Andy almost came out of his skin.
“No!”
“You sure? It’s awfully hot out today. Your shirt’s soaked through.”
From nerves.
“I’m fine.”
“You look hungry.”
Andy and the car simultaneously slowed until they both stopped.
Juanita leaned over the passenger seat and opened the door. “Why don’t you get in?”
Andy stared at the car and it fell into place. From the hacienda’s driveway. Either incredibly good luck or terribly bad. The perfect opportunity for him to get the drop. Or, if he’d been recognized, then they had the drop. He didn’t give a shit anymore.
“Okay, thanks.”
Andy climbed in. Air-conditioning chilled his sweat. He recognized the way the car was going.
“I’m Juanita, but all my boys call me Madre. What’s your name?”
“Bill. Billy.”
“Which is it?”
“Billy.”
Juanita smiled. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen.” Andy’s heart pounded so hard now he was sure she could hear it. His hand slowly fell toward his belt, in case…
Juanita stared straight ahead. “What’s the gun for?”
His heart almost blew. “What gun?”
Another smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Tell who?”
“You were running.” She laughed. “And looking more than guilty. Where’d you just come from?”
“Nothing… I mean nowhere.”
“Have you been a bad boy today?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Relax, I don’t like the police either.”
“Why do you think I don’t like the police?”
She patted his knee. “I’ve raised a lot of boys.”
Andy, thinking what might await him at the house: “How many boys do you have?”
“Why don’t I make you lunch?”
The Mercedes pulled up a driveway.
“Nice place,” said Andy.
Juanita turned and looked into his eyes with decades of maternal manipulation. “Would you like a job?”
“What kind of job?”
“Pretty much the same as you’re doing now. Except better pay. And less sloppy. You won’t get caught.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Whatever I say.” She opened her door. “Are you obedient?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Call me Madre.”
Serge barreled down South Dixie Highway, timing green lights. Ignoring red.
“God, just this one favor…”
Juanita led Andy through the front door.
“Guillermo,” she called from the foyer, hanging her purse on a hook. “There’s someone here I’d like you to meet.”
They came around the corner into the dining room.
Guillermo’s back was to them, head sagging. The clear part of the Jack Daniel’s bottle now much bigger than the brown.
Juanita turned to Andy. “Don’t get the wrong idea. He just had an accident, in a lot of pain.”
“Not anymore,” said Guillermo, reaching for the sour mash.
They walked around the table into his view.
“Guillermo,” said Juanita. “I’d like you to meet Billy… Billy, Guillermo.”
“Yo.” Guillermo was now pulling straight from the bottle.
“Billy,” said Juanita. “Let me see your gun.”
Moment of truth. The pistol was his only ace. Unarmed, he’d be helpless. A calculation.
He pulled it from his shirt. “Here you go.”
Juanita popped the clip and racked the slide. A bullet ejected into the air and bounced across the wooden floor. She replaced the clip and racked again.
“Glock. Nice one.” She handed it back. “You said you were obedient?”
Andy nodded.
Juanita looked toward Guillermo. “Shoot him.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Serge got stacked up behind five cars at a traffic light.
“Screw it!”
He cut the corner through a gas station, briefly leaving the ground as he sailed over a curb where there was no exit.
“Shoot him?” asked Andy.
“That’s what I said.”
“Ha!” blurted Guillermo. “The test!”
“What test?”
“Don’t worry,” said Guillermo. “Just to see if you’re loyal.”
“Shoot him,” Juanita repeated.
Andy raised his arm, lowered it, raised it again.
“Go on, shoot me,” said Guillermo, knowing he was her favorite and remembering how she’d rigged his own test in the beginning. “What are you waiting for?”
Juanita stepped up to his side. “What are you waiting for?”
Andy raised his arm again. This is what he’d come for. Why couldn’t he close the deal?
“I’ll make it easy,” said Guillermo, pushing himself up from the table to create a larger, swaying target.
Andy aimed the gun at his face, hand shaking heavily.