Eddie's car made a U-turn, and Carlos started his engine, headlights off. He let Eddie travel a short distance away from the bright lights before he made his move. He accelerated, jumped the curb, and rammed into the rear of Eddie's vehicle. The collision was harder than Carlos anticipated. Both cars recoiled, tires skidding, as Eddie responded to the sudden impact by hitting the brakes. Carlos was thrown forward, the seat belt tightening across his chest. He only had seconds in which to act. He got out, ran to Eddie's car, pulled open the door, and stuck his pistol in Eddie's face.
"My little jorobado friend," Carlos growled. "It is very nice to see you again." He brought the barrel of his weapon down on the front of Eddie's head. As Eddie slumped forward, he caught him, then pulled him from the car and carried him into the darkness between two buildings. He dumped Eddie next to a propane gas tank and went back to the automobiles stalled in the middle of the street. He kicked the pieces of broken glass toward the gutter and moved the cars to the curb, parking them close together to hide the damage.
Eddie was still unconscious when he returned. He rifled his pockets, found a wallet and a small leather case, and used his cigarette lighter to inspect the contents. The case contained a military police badge and an identification card with Eddie's picture. The hunchback was a United States Army criminal investigator. Carlos grunted. Don Enrique would be very pleased to have Eddie back. And pleased with Carlos, also. The wallet was less interesting, except for the money.
Carlos extracted and counted the bills: over seven hundred dollars. Masquerading as a beggar was profitable. He put the money into his coat pocket. He lit a cigarette and nudged Eddie with the toe of his shoe to see if he was awake. Eddie did not move. Using his lighter, he inspected Eddie's face. He was still unconscious. The blow to the head had sliced the scalp. A flap of skin dangled at the hairline on Eddie's forehead, and blood trickled down his face.
As soon as Eddie stirred, Carlos sat him upright against the propane tank. He wanted Eddie to see what was going to happen to him. He placed Eddie's hands palm down on the pavement of the parking lot and waited for his eyes to open. When they did, Carlos stomped on each hand with the heel of his shoe. *** Kerney stopped in front of the bar. Before he could get out of the truck, a fat hooker with a round, cherubic face leaned inside the open window. She wore a sleeveless dress that showed tattoos on both of her substantial arms.
"No thanks," Kerney said, pushing against the door to move her out of the way. Her bulk made it impossible for him to budge her.
"Are you Kerney?" the hooker asked.
"Yes," Kerney answered, puzzled.
"Eddie asked me to give you a message."
"What is it?"
"He said you'd pay me." Kerney didn't believe her but decided not to quibble.
"How much?"
"Fifty dollars," the hooker announced.
Kerney dug out his wallet and handed over the money. It was the last of his emergency cash.
"What's the message?" he demanded. The hooker pulled down the top of her dress and stuck the bills inside her push-up brassiere. There was a tattoo of the Virgin Mary above her left breast.
"He went to the self-storage units. He said if he wasn't back when you got here, you could find him there."
"What self-storage units?" Kerney asked. The hooker pointed down the street. The fat underside of her arm jiggled.
"Bordertown Storage. You can't miss it. Look for the lights." Kerney nodded, clutched, and put the truck in gear. His right foot missed the accelerator and the engine stalled. He was having a hell of a time with the leg.
"Want me to drive you there for another fifty dollars?" the hooker asked with a grin. Kerney glared at her.
"No thanks." He restarted the engine and drove down the street behind a slow string of low-riders. He was annoyed at Eddie. Deja vu all over again, he thought. Another cop who couldn't stay put. Away from the clip joints and motels, rows of assembly plants, sweatshops, and warehouses lined the street. Beacons from the smelter stacks across a field blinked warnings to aircraft in the night sky. The glow of a bank of mercury vapor lights announced the presence of
Borderland Storage. Kerney drove past two parked cars and stopped at the locked front gate.
There was no sign of Eddie. He cruised for a block before swinging back for another pass. His headlights picked up fresh skid marks and small bits of reflective plastic in the middle of the street near the cars. One car had a Chihuahua license plate. He couldn't see the other license plate, but there was damage to both vehicles. That was enough for Kerney. He turned onto a side street, killed the engine, and got his pistol from the glove box. His knee barely tolerated the shock as he trotted to the cars. He was halfway there when he heard Eddie scream.
Chapter 12
There was something wet and sticky in Eddie's left eye. He blinked, squinted, looked up, and saw Carlos standing over him. Before he could move, he felt a horrible pain in his right hand. He screamed, and screamed again as Carlos stomped on his other hand. Gasping, he shook his head, trying to stay conscious.
"You bastard." It was all he could manage. His hands felt cemented to the asphalt.
"You speak pretty good English for a jorobado," Carlos said, lighting another cigarette, waiting for Eddie to pull himself together.
"What are you doing here, Eddie?"
"Fuck off," Eddie answered, trying to move his right hand. Carlos hit him in the mouth. Eddie's head bounced off the tank. He sucked in a deep breath and waited for the throbbing to stop.
"Are you working with that gringo Kerney?" Carlos asked. Eddie shook his head.
"No."
"You're a lying piece of shit," Carlos retorted, balling his hand to a beefy fist. Eddie turned his head so Carlos wouldn't hit him in the mouth again. The punch caught him high on the cheek. Eddie winced and sucked in more air. Blood made it impossible to see out of his left eye.
"Finished?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"Just starting, you puta. Tell me why you're here."
"I'll tell you," Eddie replied. "Just don't hit me again, all right?" Carlos relaxed and nodded approvingly.
Kerney stood behind Carlos, at the corner of the warehouse, with a finger at his lips.
"Give me a minute, will you?" Eddie asked.
"Sure, but make it fast. I don't have time to play with you." Eddie coughed and mumbled something under his breath.
"What?" Carlos asked.
"I said fuck you," Eddie replied as Kerney brought the pistol butt down on Carlos's head. Eddie liked it a lot when Kerney hit Carlos again.
"Madre de Dios, I'm glad to see you," he said, staring at Carlos's prone body. Kerney reached for his hand to help him to his feet.
"Not the hands," Eddie barked.
"He broke all my fingers."