Brew knows Reg Haskell has been made twenty thousand dollars richer and now he knows how. And when good ol" Reg tries to sell Brew on the story that Chavez was killed by el Senor for helping him with gambling debt, Brew can easily dismiss that as another Haskell lie."Your pardon. It is not my place to complain." Deferentially I passed the bottle back. "But it becomes a man to be philosophical. I wish to understand the differences of our women. To me, it appears that all Anglo women are as mine, lacking fortitude and courage, and holding a great contempt for their men. Yet the women of your people are such as Senora Santiago bearing herself with dignity and reserve even when her son is slain."
I'd started to rush. With an effort, I stopped and held my breath while my heart thudded.
Luis took a long drink and gave the bottle to Jaime. I couldn't see any change in Jaime, but Luis's face seemed sharper, harder. The snow muffled everything around us. The only sounds we heard were our own voices and breathing. I could feel blood seeping from my bandages down into my pants.
Luis asked evenly, "Are you acquainted with Senora Santiago?"
"Si, surely." Nonchalance was beyond me. I had to do without it. "Senor and Senora Santiago hired my service some years ago. They honored me with their respect. I grieve for Pablo with them."
Then I couldn't stop. I was out of my depth--and out of strength. Harshly I demanded, "What manner of man kills the son of such parents as Senor and Senora Santiago?"
Luis still watched me like he'd caught a whiff of something he didn't like. But Jaime lowered the bottle--empty now--and grinned like a banshee.
"A gringo."
I wanted to pass out. A gringo? Not Chavez? Not? I gave an involuntary twitch of surprise, and the pain almost tore a yell past my teeth. "Ah, then it is simple," I said, trying to defuse my improper intensity. "Pablo was slain by a gringo. Therefore the matter is one of money."
"Assuredly." Jaime sounded almost happy. "The night was Saturday. Pablo bore with him the winnings for his numbers." Rendered simple by alcohol, he seemed proud of his knowledge for its own sake. "Twenty thousands of dollars."
That was it. The whole thing. Just a gringo. And twenty thousands of dollars. It proved exactly nothing. Nothing of any kind. And yet it gave me almost the entire story.
Almost. There was one detail I might be wrong about. One bit of information that might change everything.
But I couldn't ask for it. Luis's eyes had gone hard. Whatever it was that he didn't like had become clear to him. Even though he and Jaime were drunk, I was no match for either of them. And if they believed that I was manipulating them, using them for some Anglo reason, they would need no more than ten minutes, tops, to contact el Senor.
"Senor Axbrewder," Luis observed softly, "you do not drink with us." He reached for the bottle Jaime held, but it was empty. He tossed it into the snow and lifted his own. "You have shared generously with us. Permit me to share with you."
He extended the bottle toward me.
Just like that, I was trapped. With the radar of the drunk, he'd realized that there was something wrong with me. This was the test. If I refused to drink, I might find myself installed in a storm drain before morning.
I wanted to drink. I was dying of thirst anyway. And I'd created this whole mess. I hadn't told Ginny about Pablo. I wanted to drink myself out of my skull, and to hell with it.
But I wanted something else more. I wanted to get that bastard. Nail him to the wall for what he'd done.
If I was right about him.
I reached for the bottle.
And fumbled it.
A quick lurch to try and catch it pulled a cry out of my chest, and I fell off the bench, face down into the snow.
On top of the bottle.
For a minute agony held me there. Then Luis and Jaime lifted me by my arms. At first they weren't gentle. But then they saw the bloodstains on my shirt. Their surprise changed everything.
"Mother of God," Jaime breathed. "Shot. This is madness, Senor Axbrewder. Whose bullet have you caught?"
Panting hard and shallow, I fought for balance, strength, anything to keep me going. "Muy Estobal."
"Pendejo!" Jaime dropped my arm roughly. "You are truly mad. Do you believe I also wish to be shot?"
Turning and cursing, he hurried away into the snowfall. I lost sight of him almost at once.
I should've fallen. But Luis didn't let me. When I swung my head around to look at him, he seemed to be smiling.
"You have fortitude, Senor Axbrewder," he said. "Also cojones. I honor that."
"Please." Spanish failed me. I was nearly gone. That fall did something terrible to me. "Tell me why Chavez was killed."
Luis gave a snort that might have been laughter. "El Senor came upon the Bambino making the beast of two backs with his daughter."
That fit. It all fit. I was going down. But Luis held me up until Santiago [Pablo's father, who drove Brew to this downtown park from the hospital and has been hiding & listening, nearby] came out of the snow to take me away.
But too bad that Brew in his sorry medical condition can't so easily dismiss the physical threat of Haskell himself. How he and Ginny and Senor Santiago figure out how to prevail makes for a nice climax to this story.
This was a fun re-read! By the time it was done, I felt cleansed, exorcised--a burden from within lifted. I like it when reading fiction does that for me.
"Brew," she said intently, "why did we take that case? What made it so important? What did we go through all that for?"
It was the same question she'd been asking all along. And she wanted an honest answer. But I didn't let the earnest gray of her gaze lure me into a mistake.
Distinctly I told her, "Because Haskell wanted protection against el Senor. That time I went to see him, I was desperate. Your life was in danger. It wouldn't have cost him anything to help me. But he refused." Instead he'd forced me to drink when her life had depended on my sobriety. "I knew this case was dangerous, Ginny. I just wanted revenge."
She understood. Both sides of it--what I said, and what I didn't. It seemed to make her face soft and sad and relieved all at the same time. "You know something, Axbrewder?" she murmured. "Sometimes you're almost a nice man."
Bending down, she rested a kiss on my forehead.
My guts still hurt, and I had IVs plugged into both elbows, but I didn't care. I put my arms around her and welcomed her back.
