Markson smiled humorlessly at him. “Presently, Mr. Long, presently.
Longarm put a hand on the Ranger’s shoulder as Coffin started to surge to his feet. “All right,” he said to Markson, “but tell Mr. Barton that the sooner we get all this done, the better.”
“Not necessarily,” Markson replied blandly, then joined his companion from south of the border in ascending the stairs.
Coffin settled back in his chair. “I ain’t cut out for this,” he said between clenched teeth.
“Neither am I, old son,” Longarm told him. “Neither am I.”
Eventually, Barton and Don Alfredo both emerged from their suites and met at the top of the stairs, going through the same pointless exercise as their assistants had before coming down the staircase side by side. The other members of both delegations trooped along behind. Longarm and Coffin were waiting for them, and led the way into the dining room. When everyone was assembled—the Americans on one side of the tables that had been pushed together to make one big table, the Mexicans on the other—Franklin Barton turned to Longarm and Coffin and said, “Thank you, gentlemen. That will be all.”
Longarm frowned. “I figured we’d sit in on the meetings, just to make sure there’s no problem.”
Barton shook his head emphatically. “Impossible. The things that will be said here are secret.”
“You mean you don’t trust us?” Coffin burst out.
Barton smiled and said, “I mean, Mr. Coffin, that you and Mr. Long have done your jobs. Now let us do ours.”
Longarm supposed the diplomat had a point, though he was reluctant to admit it. He took hold of Coffin’s arm and said, “Come on.”
The Ranger jerked free. “Wait just a dang-blasted minute! He’s sayin’ we ain’t good enough to hear what they got to say!”
“And I’m saying that as long as nobody bothers them, the rest of it ain’t any of our business,” Longarm pointed out. He lowered his voice and leaned closer to the Ranger as he went on. “Forget it, Coffin. You know it’d just be a bunch of political bullshit anyway.”
“Yeah, I reckon you’re right.” Coffin allowed Longarm to steer him toward the door.
Longarm looked back at Barton and Don Alfredo. Their assistants were already opening leather portfolios and hauling out sheaves of paper. “One of us will be out in the lobby if you need us.”
Both of the chief diplomats nodded. Barton said, “Thank you, Mr. Long,” and Guiterrez added, “Muchas gracias.” Barton told Quine to shut the doors, and a moment later the entrance was closed, leaving Longarm and Coffin on the outside.
Longarm considered the situation. The single large window in the dining room was boarded up, having been shattered by outlaw bullets that morning. That left two ways into the room, the lobby entrance and the door into the kitchen, which could also be reached from a rear hallway. “You want to go sit in the kitchen or wait out here?” he asked Coffin.
The Ranger’s brow furrowed in thought, then abruptly smoothed as an idea came to him. “You reckon that blond waitress from this mornin’ might be back yonder in the kitchen?”
“She might be,” replied Longarm, although he figured it was sort of doubtful.
“And the cook will be for sure, so I might could get me a little snack whilst I was standin’ guard.” Coffin nodded, as much to himself as to Longarm. “I’ll take the kitchen.”
“Fine by me,” said Longarm. He headed back to the chair where he had been sitting before as Coffin shambled off to ward the rear of the hotel.
Longarm paused long enough to get a cheroot burning, then settled down in the chair to wait some more. He kept his eyes fastened on the closed doors that led into the dining room and hoped he wouldn’t doze off from sheer boredom.
There wasn’t much chance of that, because a few minutes later Sonia Guiterrez came downstairs.
Longarm saw movement from the corner of his eye and glanced toward the staircase. Sonia was walking down the stairs, her hand trailing lightly on the polished banister. She had taken down her hair so that it fell in rich bronze waves around her head and shoulders, and had traded the traveling outfit she had worn earlier for a cinch- waisted gown with a neckline that swooped low enough to reveal the deep valley between her honey-colored breasts, which moved enticingly with each step she took down the stairs.
She left little doubt that she had come in search of Longarm. Her dark-eyed gaze fastened on him, and she came straight across the lobby toward him as he stood up. “Senor Long,” she greeted him.
“Well ... you could take me and make mad, passionate love to me so that my cries of ecstasy rise to the heavens and my fingernails leave the tracery of desire on your back.” Longarm swallowed and said, “Beg pardon, ma’am?” He was glad she had pitched her voice so low that only he could hear it. The lobby was deserted except for the desk clerk, but Longarm didn’t want that fella hearing what Sonia was saying.
She smiled wickedly and said, “Or perhaps you can just take me to dinner.” She gave a dainty shrug that made her breasts do interesting things again. “Whatever you like.”
Longarm shook his head. “It ain’t a matter of what I’d like, Senorita Guiterrez. I’m afraid I have a job to do, and I can’t abandon it.”
“You mean guarding my father and the others while they conduct their tiresome meetings?” She sighed. “Surely your friend can do that? The big ugly man who calls himself Coffin?”
“Ranger Coffin has his own chores to attend to,” Longarm told her.
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t leave right now.”
“Are you certain?” Sonia leaned closer to him, and in a voice as
