As they were leaving, Sergeant Matt Payne intercepted Dr. Amanda Law.
“I, uh, I wanted to say thank you for this,” Payne said, waving the tongue depressor.
She grinned, but her eyes showed she didn’t believe one damn word of that.
“And,” he said, “I wanted to ask if maybe we could do this again, but without all those annoying people at our table and the depressing talk.”
Matt saw her face turn sad. Then she made a weak attempt at a smile. He saw that there now was pain in her eyes.
“Matt, that’s very sweet of you to offer-”
“Please don’t let there be a ‘but’…”
She made a thin-lipped smile.
He thought her pain was practically touchable.
“But,” she said, “can I think about it? I’m a slave to my work, as you may have noticed. I haven’t seen anyone in, well, quite some time. And I’m not sure there’s time for… for any relationship.”
There’s something more to the “but” than work.
She’s been hurt!
And deeply!
What sonofabitch would do that to such a goddess?
He nodded slowly… numbly.
She could tell he was disappointed, and said, “I am flattered that you asked.”
Not knowing what to say, he just looked at her. Then he mumbled, “‘Be sides that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?’ ”
He saw her grin at that. And he saw it was genuine.
She said, “Good night, Matt.”
And she was out the door.
He just stared at it.
“Think about it”?
That ache I just felt in my chest?
And that deafening crack?
That was the unmistakable sound of a heart breaking…
Shit!
[THREE] Love Field, Dallas Wednesday, September 9, 7:34 P.M. Texas Standard Time Juan Paulo Delgado had collected his large black duffle bag at baggage claim and was waiting impatiently on the curb for El Cheque to show up. The Southwest Airlines flight had landed ten minutes early, and Delgado had sent him a text message telling him to step on it. El Gato hated waiting for anything.
There were two cast bronze plaques mounted on the exterior of a nearby wall, each plaque illuminated by a pair of bright halogen floodlights.
Bored, Delgado stepped over to read them.
On the first was:
TEXAS HISTORICAL SOCIETY “The Lone Star State Presents…” LOVE FIELD This airport was named in honor of First Lieutenant Moss Lee Love (1879-1913), Eleventh Cavalry, by the United States Army on October 19, 1917.
Love was killed on September 4, 1913, when his Type C Wright pusher biplane crashed at North Island, San Diego, California.
He had been flying for his Military Aviator Test.
Born in Fairfax, Virginia, Love was appointed to the U.S. Army in 1910. In April 1913, he was ordered to Texas City, Texas, and there detailed for aviation duty with the Signal Corps and the 1st Aero Squadron. He was with the Signal Corps Aviation School at the time of his death.
Love Field opened for civilian use in 1927, and remained the major aviation hub for Dallas and its citizens until being joined by the Dallas-Fort Worth Regional (now International) Airport in 1974.
Delgado shook his head disgustedly.
Who gives a shit?
Just another dead gringo.
Damn land-grabbers.
Delgado looked at the other cast bronze plaque. It had a replica of a Texas lawman. He wore a big Stetson hat, a gun belt with a Colt revolver, a Western-style shirt bearing a badge that was a five-pointed star within a circle, Western-style pants, and pointed-toe boots.
The sign read:
TEXAS HISTORICAL SOCIETY “The Lone Star State Presents…” ONE RANGER, ONE RIOT While developing settlements in what then was the Mexican province of Tejas, Stephen F. Austin called for men to “range” the frontier to protect its people. These “Rangers” in 1835 officially became the legendary policing force known as the Texas Rangers.
In 1896, Texas Ranger Captain William McDonald was sent here to Dallas to shut down a planned illegal heavyweight prize fight.
Dallas Mayor F. P. Holland met Captain McDonald as he disembarked his train at Union Station downtown.
Mayor Holland looked at Captain McDonald and in great shock said, “Where are the other Rangers?”
“There’s only one fight,” McDonald said. “Hell, ain’t I enough?”
McDonald’s legendary reply became known as “One Ranger, One Riot.”
The phrase embodies the toughness and determination of all those who have sworn the oath to uphold the laws as a Texas Ranger.
One creed of the Texas Rangers is also from Captain McDonald: “No man in the wrong can stand up against a fellow that’s in the right and keeps on a-comin’.” (Sculpture created by Waldine Tauch, and gifted by Mr. and Mrs. Earle Wyatt on the occasion of the dedication of Love Field’s new terminal, 1961.) More gringo bullshit.
And this should still be the “Mexican province of Tejas.”
Delgado’s phone vibrated, announcing a received text message.
He pulled out the phone and read its screen:
214-555-7636
About damn time.
He looked at the clock on the phone’s display. It showed seven forty-five. The cellular service in Dallas had automatically set back the time on the phone; Texas Standard Time was an hour behind Eastern Standard Time.
That makes it eight forty-five in Philly.
While he had the phone out, he typed and sent a text to Omar Quintanilla:
A moment later, his phone vibrated.
Quintanilla had replied:
