I made a sound of disgust and put my phone away. “Chariot found some patsy to take the fall.”
“Not everything is tied to them.”
“So it’s a coincidence that Yevgeny and Tatiana, both of whom had ties to the organization, were taken out?”
“No,” Rafael said. “It’s a result of their greed. If their experiments with the dogs were intended to undermine the gang, then that’s motive. One thing about Chariot that we’ve learned over all these years is that they are very pragmatic. If someone is of use, the organization keeps them around.”
The gate agent called our row to begin boarding.
“It’s betrayal that’s one strike and you’re out,” Rafael said.
I grabbed my carry-on and swung it over my shoulder, hoping to hide my shiver. “Nothing like a clear company policy.”
Chapter 24
Modern Zihuatanejo had retained all the charm that I vaguely remembered from the trip with my parents when I was little. Narrow cobblestones wound through downtown past bustling restaurants. The water was clear and fishermen spread their daily catches out on the sand by their boats at Paseo de Pescador. The air smelled of coffee, frying chilis, and a tinge of exhaust.
Arkady had provided me with the name of a pub where this Avi Chomsky hung out, along with the fairly regular hours that I’d find him there.
The Crushed Barnacle made my favorite drinking hole, Blondie’s, look like the Four Seasons. The décor took its inspiration from Davy Jones’ locker, emulating a shipwreck with splintered beams, half a ship’s carcass hanging lopsidedly from chains on the ceiling, and bleached fish bones scattered on the sand floor.
“Charming,” Rafael said, sidestepping a skeleton wearing a dusty pirate hat that was perched on one of the bar stools.
The bar was packed with men, all of them cheering the very loud soccer match on the big-screen TV.
I muscled my way to the bar, slapping off some wandering hands, and, in the case of one particularly persistent creep, whose Hawaiian shirt was stretched tight over his beer belly, threatening to stab him with my dagger.
“I’ll stab you with my dagger,” he leered, showing me his missing teeth.
“Do it and I’ll rip it off and shove it up your ass.”
He belched and returned his attention to the game.
I ordered a couple of beers that both looked and tasted like piss, and Rafael and I wandered through the bar. We found Avi in the back room, playing a round of darts with a thin man who reeked of pot. Avi wore a faded black t-shirt, khaki shorts, and flip flops.
Rafa raised an eyebrow at me and I shook my head. Avi’s features were a plausible match, especially given the burns, but he was too short to be my father.
I sagged against the doorframe, reaching a hand out to steady myself. Get it together, Ash. A dead end didn’t mean the end of the trail. I almost turned around right there and then, airport-bound to go home and find a new path to pursue, but the coincidence bothered me. I could buy the existence of other Avi Chomskys in New York, but here in Zihuatanejo? The place had less than one hundred thousand people and wasn’t exactly famed for its Jewish population.
Their game wrapped up and Avi pulled the darts out of the board. His opponent paid up and shambled back into the front room.
Avi sized Rafael up. “Want to play?”
Rafael smoothed a hand over his vest. “I was known as Double Trouble back at my local pub.”
“Oh yeah?” Avi said. “Real sharpshooter.”
I groaned. Double Trouble meant you couldn’t quite hit the double necessary to win the game. “I’ll play you.”
Avi gave me an indulgent look, then shrugged. “I like to spice things up with a bet, but we can go easy.” He slapped three hundred pesos down on the table next to him. Just over twenty bucks Canadian.
“Sure.” I matched his bet and took my darts.
I got a couple of “lucky” throws in, but lost the game. I shook out my hands. “I can do better. Play again?”
“You going to lose again and then fleece me on the third game?”
I smiled grimly. “How about I just trounce you on this one?”
“You think you can?”
“Try me.”
Avi pulled out his wallet. “How much?”
“An answer.”
He stilled. “To what question?”
“Play and find out.”
Avi moved his T-shirt to show the butt of a gun. “I’d prefer to know now.”
“26L1,” I said.
His gaze went distant, then he shook off his stupor and put away his wallet. “I got no issue with him.”
I barely caught my flinch. This was it. The point of no return. “You know who 26L1 really is,” I said.
“Is that why he sent you? I got no more clue now than when he hired me and arranged the wire transfer. Assure your boss I don’t know what his name is and I’m happy to keep it that way.”
“What was the wire transfer for?” My voice sounded tinny and very far away.
He laughed. Not even cruelly, just like he was genuinely amused by the question. “He had a horse he needed put down.”
My heartbeat slowed like there was a lead weight tied to it. I’d gone from a childhood viewed through rose-colored glasses to an adolescence and early adulthood in a cold unforgiving gray, but I’d been secure in the knowledge that the bottom had already dropped out of my world and I’d survived. It couldn’t get worse than this.
How wrong I’d been.
If you want to spend the extra money, little jewel, spend it on clarity.
My father was dead.
The world turned red. My blood armor locked into place and I slammed a fist into Avi’s jaw, sending him crashing into the far wall.
One team scored and there was a roar of cheers from the front room. Rafael hurried to the doorway, standing guard.
“How did you resist his Charmer magic?” I advanced on Avi, but
