“It’s hard to explain.”
“I’ll tell you what’s hard to explain. It’s hard to explain how a man who knew the river better than anyone around here ended up drowning in it. It’s hard to explain how a dead man dies a second time. It’s hard to explain how the sheriff can look a citizen straight in the eye and lie to him.”
“Okay.” Mondragon was beginning to worry about someone passing by and hearing them. “Settle down.”
Lewis looked up and down the sidewalk, then whispered, “Settle down? You give me a reason to settle down. Somebody killed Martin Aguilera and if you won’t do something about it, then I will.”
“Stay out of this, Lewis.”
“I’m in it, Manny.” Lewis cupped his hands around a match and lit his cigar. “Are you in it?”
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about someone stealing Martin’s body?”
Lewis tried to look surprised. “Stealing his body?”
“From Fonda’s.”
“Come on.”
“Last night.”
“Don’t change the subject. Why did you lie to me? Why did you lie to Martin’s grandson.”
“What would you have me tell the man? His grandfather was dead. You wanted me to say he was murdered? I don’t know that. You saw him in the cabin. I fished him out of the river.”
“You think I’m lying.”
“I don’t know that. If I told Taylor all that stuff, would that have brought his grandfather back?”
Manny had a point and Lewis felt immediately bad for having sucked young Taylor into the mess. “No.”
“All right.”
“But why lie to me?”
“Taylor was standing right there.”
“But later on the phone—”
“I’m sorry. This business isn’t easy. I was tense. I didn’t want to be bothered.”
Lewis blew smoke out. He looked back and saw Salvador watching them through his window.
“I saw you come out of Sal’s,” Manny said. “Looking for some boots?”
“He didn’t have my size.”
“Ain’t that always the way.”
“So, what now?” Lewis asked. “You try to find the body?”
“I guess so.”
“And the killer?”
“Don’t cause trouble, prof. The last thing that any of us need is everybody getting scared of a killer on the loose. There’re too many old farts around here with guns in their houses. They’ll end up shootin’ their families and maybe me.”
Lewis was disappointed.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” Lewis looked at the man’s eyes again. “I’ve always respected you. But it’s hard right now.”
Mondragon put his sunglasses back on and walked on past.
Lewis turned to see Salvador still in the window. He shook his head no and walked on to meet Laura and Maggie.
Chapter Twelve
Lewis stood outside of El Coche Comedor smoking on his cigar and waiting for Maggie and Laura to show up for lunch. The talk with Mondragon had left him angry and disturbed. He wondered how young Taylor was feeling and what he was doing. There was some sort of youth art exhibit going on in the plaza. A couple of girls sat on the steps of the stage and tuned guitars. A van drove by and Lewis thought the white men in it were looking him over. Some people didn’t expect to see black people in this part of the country. He guessed the van had Texas license plates, but it didn’t. He thought it might have been a California tag, but it was so covered with mud he couldn’t see. The girls with the guitars took the stage, blew into the microphones, then began to sing in Spanish. The music was pretty.
“Papa!” Laura called through the open window of the car.
Lewis didn’t know quite what to make of the picture. The back seat of his car was loaded, an ironing board was strapped to the top. Maggie pulled into a diagonal parking space.
“What is all of this?” Lewis asked, walking to Maggie’s door.
“A few things,” Maggie said.
“An ironing board, Maggie? I live on a mountain.”
‘“I live on a mountain,’” she mocked him. “Calm down, Grizzly Adams.” She got out of the car and helped Laura slide across the seat.
Lewis looked at the stuff in the backseat. “Is that a record player? Maggie, I have a record player.”
“Yes, but that is my record player and when I play my belly dancing music, you won’t be able to say, ‘Get that off of my record player.’”
He paused. “Belly dancing?”
Laura was out and Maggie closed the car door. “Let’s eat,” she said.
Lewis backed up to the sidewalk and let them pass. “What do you wear?”
“You’ll like the food here,” Maggie said to Laura as they entered the restaurant. “Put that stinky thing out,” she said to Lewis about his cigar.
“Do you wear those balloon pants? Come on, tell me.”
“I hope you don’t think you’re going to be smoking those in the house. I have a very sensitive nose.”
The hostess seated them in a booth under a painting of an Indian’s face in the middle of the moon. The waitress came and took their orders. The restaurant wasn’t crowded and Lewis began to relax.
He looked at Maggie. “What do you know about the Penitentes?”
“Not much. Why?”
“They have secret funerals, don’t they?”
“I think so.”
“What’s a pennytenny?” Laura asked.
“It’s a club,” Lewis said and he felt bad for the skimpy answer, but he didn’t feel like explaining. “Did you help Maggie put all that junk in the car?”
“Yes.”
“You think that’s pretty funny.”
Laura giggled and looked at Maggie.
A boy came into the restaurant and to their booth, handed a note to Lewis. “Perdone,” he said and left quickly.
Lewis opened the paper. It said: I have a pair of boots your size.
“What’s it say?” Maggie asked.
“Let’s just say I’ll be able to tell you a little more about the Penitentes.” He got the waitress’s attention and asked for more water. He looked at Laura. “What do you say we call your folks tonight?”
The child nodded, looked worried.
“I’m making eggplant tonight,” Lewis said, “so pick one up for me at the market.”
“Not eggplant,” Laura whined.
“You’re not shopping with us?” Maggie asked.
“I’ve got to see somebody.” He opened his wallet and gave Maggie two fifties. “Surprise me, but get things I know how to cook.”
The food arrived. Lewis cut his cheeseburger and picked up half to take a bite. Maggie was looking at him. Laura was studying her club sandwich and he mouthed the words It’s okay to Maggie.
“What’s okay?” Laura asked.
“The burger,” he said.
“You’re not talking about the burger,” Laura said.
“Laura,” he said.
“You want to send me home.”
“No, I don’t. I just think we should call your parents so they know you’re fine.”
Laura was mad and when she got that way she just shut up. She managed a couple of bites of her sandwich and all of her pop. She wouldn’t look at Lewis.
“Laura.” Lewis used the tone that demanded she look at him. And she did. “I want you to relax. Nobody’s going anywhere, okay? Except to the grocery market and back up the mountain.”
Maggie reached over and stroked the child’s hand.
“Okay?” Lewis said.
“Okay,” said Laura.
“And guess what?” Maggie said to her. “I’m going to teach you how to belly dance.”
“Really?”
Lewis smiled. “Come on, Maggie, tell me what you wear.”
When they were outside at the car, Lewis scratched his head. “Maggie?”