Blue Diablo

related to Yi Min-chin and her past that we’d tracked only as far as Nuevo Laredo and the zona.

“So anyway,” Chance said. “When Corine told me she might know somebody who could help, it sounded like a good idea. We’re just not equipped to handle this on our own.”

Bucky nodded. “Let me see if I can raise Twila. Just be aware that she’ll ask for something in return for her help.”

I nodded. “That seems to be the norm around here. We’re prepared.”

The blond bartender went to the back to use the phone. When he returned, he told us, “She’ll see you at five.” He handed us an address. “Bring the dog.”

Butch whimpered and hid his head.

Desperate Measures

We took the I-35 south and ate lunch at a Carl’s Jr. in Von Ormy because we wouldn’t leave Butch in the car and I couldn’t be persuaded to eat at any other fast food place. What can I say? I love those big juicy burgers. I fed half of mine to the dog, who showed his appreciation by biting my fingers, although not hard enough to hurt.

Then we found a PETCO on the southeast side of San Antonio and bought some basic supplies, such as a tiny stuffed bed, a leash, and a squeaky pizza that I liked more than the dog. We sure enough received some strange looks when we asked Butch what kind of food to buy. He preferred Hill’s Science Diet Lamb Meal & Rice Recipe.

At that point we’d wasted enough time and we needed to present ourselves at Twila’s place. The address Bucky had given us turned out to be a modest two-story in a reasonably affluent suburb on the fringes of the city. Given her persona, I expected something more Addams Family from her domicile, but she had peonies in the front yard, flower boxes, and a nice rock garden. I liked the glimmering pink stones that lined the flowerbeds too.

The rain had let up finally, leaving everything damp. I strode up the walk with what I hoped approximated confidence. Butch hung out of my bag, taking everything in, and Chance followed a few feet behind us. Gathering my courage, I rang the bell.

To my surprise Twila answered the door herself, though she looked no less exotic on an overcast afternoon than she had in the office at Twilight. Today she wore her braided hair up in a colorful scarf. Whatever she had in mind for poor Butch faded as soon as she saw my ex. Well, I was used to it. For his part, Chance stared at her as if he’d been hit with a hammer. Not so used to that.

She flashed a smile, bright and charming in her dusky face. “Bucky told me of your problem. Come in, let’s talk it over.”

I performed the introductions, not that either of them appeared aware of me. Twila led us into an immaculate living room furnished in black and white. I sank down onto a black leather armchair with a crunch. There was no way I could live with a carpet this pale. I’d spill sangria on it the first day I bought it, but I did like the lilies in a slim obsidian vase.

“Thanks for seeing us,” Chance said.

I suddenly understood what Eva meant when she said I ate him with my eyes, watching Chance do it to Twila. The way he stared, one would think he’d never seen a woman before. Okay, so she was beautiful—tall, shapely, and statuesque with eyes that shimmered like night on the Nile. I fidgeted while they talked softly on the couch, low enough that I might even call it whispering. I couldn’t make out the words.

There’s a reason people don’t hang around their exes, I decided. Butch watched me with moist-eyed sympathy, though to be fair he always looked like that.

Finally, Chance glanced my way and tossed me the keys to the Mustang. “Pick me up in a few hours, Corine? I think we’ve worked out satisfactory terms.”

I clenched my jaw and spoke through my teeth. “Absolutely.”

When I let myself out, they didn’t even look away from each other. I do not give a shit. If he wanted to whore himself out to the queen of San Antonio’s gifted, he had a perfect right. So much for his protestations of devotion, though.

I glanced down at Butch. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid. Any ideas?”

He barked twice but looked regretful about it.

I got into the Mustang. I’ve never been good at a manual transmission, so I ground the gears in getting out of the driveway. Butch put his paws over his head.

“I know, I know,” I muttered.

Truthfully I wanted to find the nearest ice cream shop and eat a hot fudge sundae, not that I cared what Chance did. No, sir. As I’d had a big lunch, I felt such self-indulgence would set a bad example for the dog. So we drove around until I found a park. He didn’t care for the leash and wasn’t much of a walker, but I didn’t think he needed to spend the rest of his life hiding in my handbag either, no matter how uncertain things seemed.

I needed to touch the life I’d left behind. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. So I rang up my shop in Mexico City, and Señor Alvarez answered on the second ring. We passed a few minutes chatting. To be polite, I first inquired about his health before asking about the shop. He assured me everything was fine and we’d turned a good profit, and I told him I’d be gone longer than expected.

“¿Puede trabajar otra semana?” I needed to know if he could work another week, as I didn’t look likely to return in a day or two.

“No hay problema,” Alvarez said. “Perdóneme, una cosa más, señorita. Un hombre pasó por aquí hace unos días, buscándola.”

Well, I was glad it wasn’t a problem for him to keep manning the shop, but a chill rolled over me at his next words. I’d felt as if we had a shadow, starting that first morning in Mexico City. I shivered and tried to convince myself I was overreacting. A man looking for me didn’t necessarily qualify as sinister.

“Looking for me or looking to buy something particular?” I asked in Spanish.

“Looking for you.” He stressed the last word.

“What did he look like?” The tightness in my stomach must come from the burger.

“I don’t know,” he said, sounding a trifle impatient. “I was with a customer.”

The bell jangled in the background, telling me he had a customer now too, so I let him go. I felt a little better, knowing that I’d have somewhere to return to, provided I survived. However, I couldn’t write off my unease as paranoia, as I had good reason for going to ground eighteen months ago.

Just then, Butch saw a cute poodle with a rhinestone studded collar and tugged on his leash, disrupting my thoughts. “All right, I’m coming. First sign of humping, and we’re gone,” I warned him.

They smelled each other’s butts, but then the poodle’s owner pulled her away with a sniff and stalked in the opposite direction.

I gave him a sympathetic look. “She wasn’t good enough for you anyway.”

The park killed an hour, during which time I gave Butch a drink and fed him some Hill’s Science Diet, but it was starting to get dark. We walked along the sidewalk, enjoying the sunset despite the stillness in the air. Slowly I registered wrongness. Where was the wind? The birds?

Oh, shit.

I recognized this stillness.

Something bad was about to happen.

Butch barked as if to warn me but I already knew. Quickly I scooped him up and he took cover. Our walk had brought us around downtown and out near the cemetery. It was an old place, full of dead heroes.

The Mustang was a good mile away, so I’d face whatever came without an escape route and without backup.

Dank mist rolled in, more suited to London than San Antonio. The power required to twist the weather like this must be astronomical, and he’d already exerted himself with the sending a few days ago. If anything he, whoever he was, seemed to be getting stronger. I couldn’t see to make my way to safety, might even get myself