An Unacceptable Death - Barbara Seranella (17 page)

Asia turned and spied Munch. Her expression didn't
change, nor her mannerisms. Asia showed the same face to everyone.
Munch wondered if that was a privilege of youth—to get to be the
same person no matter who you were with.

Asia broke away from her friends and skipped across
the parking lot to join her mother. Munch took her schoolbag and
threw it in the back seat. Jasper jumped from the back to the front
and made whimpering excited noises. Asia held out her face to be
licked and the dog obliged.

Asia climbed into the passenger seat and strapped on
her seat belt. Jasper settled next to her with a contented sigh and
rested his head on her thighs. "You didn't go to work today?"
Asia asked.

"
No, I had to take care of some things."
Munch kissed Asia's cheek and stroked some stray wisps of hair away
from the girl's eyes.

"
What happened to your face?" Asia asked.

Munch came around to her side and got in. "A cat
scratched me."

"
We got a cat?" Asia asked excitedly.
Jasper lifted his head. The word "cat" was in his
vocabulary, probably under the subheading; chew toy.

"
No, she was an alley cat."

Asia's expression was critical and slightly
disbelieving. "Uh-huh. She must have put up some fight."

Munch checked the scratches again. They were a little
thick to have been caused by claws. She adjusted her sunglasses and
started the car. "So how was school? Did you guys play that math
game today?"

"
Every Thursday."

"
Caroline and Mace invited you to spend the
night. They'll take you to school tomorrow and pick you up."

"
What about you?"

Munch started the car. "I have some stuff I have
to do. I'll see you later at the church."

Asia sat up straighter and her face brightened as if
she had suddenly thought of something. "Do you know what I saw
at recess?"

"
What?"

"
A rainbow, only it was round, like a piece of a
regular rainbow cut out and pasted to a cloud."

"
Sounds pretty."

"
I think it was Rico and he was waving to me on
his way to heaven."

Munch could only nod, unable to speak for a minute.
"Tomorrow, at the mass . . . at St. Monica's . . ." She
stopped and swallowed, blinking back tears. When she spoke again, her
voice was thick. "We'll both get dressed up real pretty and wave
back. Okay?"
 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

ELLEN SPENT AN HOUR ON MAKEUP AND CLOTHES. SHE was
going for a look that said I'm not a slut, but I like my fun. When
Humberto arrived at eight that evening, he didn't stand a chance. She
was pleased to see he had also taken some extra pains with his
appearance. His embroidered guayabera shirt and his slacks were
freshly pressed. There was also a shine to his snakeskin boots, and
he'd put some product in his hair that tamed his short curls. His
forehead was creased with worry lines and his smile wasn't as relaxed
as it had been when they met that morning.

"
Tough day, honey?" Ellen asked.

"
I'm not used to your freeways," he
admitted.

"
I'm glad you found your way here all right."

He thrust a plastic shopping bag toward her. "This
is for you."

"
Well, bless your heart." Ellen pulled out
the contents, unwrapped the white tissue paper, and saw that he'd
brought her a light blue Members Only jacket. The tags were still on
the sleeve, but the price had been removed. A lot of men wouldn't
think to do that. "Aren't you the sweetest thing."

She took the coat draped over his arm and hung it up
in the closet. A quick exploration along the way revealed two sets of
keys. One had the car rental company tag, the other (according to the
rubber fob) was to a motel in Santa Monica.

He was glancing out her window when she returned to
the living room. He gestured around him, taking in the matching
furniture, floor-length drapes, and the coffee table with the burl
wood base and kidney-shaped glass top. "Nice place."

"
Mi casa, su casa
, "
she said. "What can I get you to drink?"

"
Coffee."

"I'll be back in a jiff," she said. "Make
yourself at home." In the kitchen, Ellen put on the teakettle
and wondered if the coffee would be a problem. She knew sodium
pentothal dissolved fine in water or alcohol, but she'd never put it
into a hot drink. She poured a tea spoon of the yellow crystals into
a dark mug. To mask the slight garlic odor of the drug, she sprinkled
cinnamon and a tablespoon of cocoa in with the instant coffee
granules before adding the hot water. Humberto stood before her
mantel, studying the photographs there. Her mom and stepdad smiled
uncertainly from one of the frames. Another picture showed the
Colonel in full military uniform.

"
That's my daddy," Ellen said, arriving
with a tray of cookies and Humberto"s coffee. She had made
herself tea, just so there was no mixup. "Was my daddy, anyway."

"
He has passed away?"

"
Him and my mama both. Been about six months
now."

"
I am sorry for your loss. I am also orphaned."

Ellen set the tray on the coffee table and brought
him his cup. She wasn't trying to render the big guy unconscious,
more like relaxed. Just a little narcotherapy to loosen his tongue.

He took a sip of his coffee, grimacing slightly. She
broke a cookie in two and offered him half. "It's an old family
recipe. If you don't like it, it'll just break my heart."

"
It's delicious," he lied.

"
So, are you just passing through, or are you
going to stay awhile?"

She gave him her best take-it-any-way-you-want smile.

Color rose to his cheeks. He took a sip a coffee.
"I'll probably be here a week,
mas o
menos
."

"
I hope it's
mas
."
She smiled a little more shyly this time. Mata Hari, eat your heart
out.

He felt a warm glow slip through him and took another
sip of the strangely flavored coffee, growing accustomed to its
taste.

"
Is this your first time in LA?" she asked.

"
No, I come here when it is necessary, when my
boss sends me for, uh, customer relations. He finds it difficult to
travel and I don't mind."

"
I love traveling, too," Ellen said. "You
hiring?"

"
Are you looking for work?"

"
Not really. My daddy left me set pretty good."
One of Ellen's New Year's resolutions had been to avoid felonies. She
had spent enough time in prison to have soured on the whole
incarceration experience. Between the death of her parents and the
advent of her thirtieth birthday, she was starting to realize that
time was too short and too precious to waste.

"
Munch might be interested," she said,
remembering tonight's mission. "She's always looking to
supplement her income, if you know what I'm saying." She reached
across him to straighten a picture frame and let a breast brush
against his well-muscled arm. Damn, he was solid as a ham hock.

"
In our business"—he paused and looked at
her—"that would be the cattle business."

She smiled, managing to put a wink in her grin and
tone. "Of course. Cows and bulls."

He smiled back, liking her more with each passing
moment. "We rely on our agents to handle all business that
arises with regards to retail sales, transportation, and issues of
security. This leads to problems. It is always difficult when one is
unable to personally supervise an operation."

"
I can imagine." They had moved to the
couch. He was glad. The many events of the day were catching up with
him. It felt good to take a moment to relax. Ellen fed him cookies
and looked dreamily into his face. She seemed to hang on his every
word, as if she cared about him. She blinked her brilliant green
eyes, and Humberto was momentarily confused. He remembered brown
eyes; perhaps he had been superimposing Ellen and Victoria. No
matter, the couch was incredibly comfortable and he had a lightness
of being he'd never felt before. Could this be the beginnings of
love?

Ellen took a sip of tea. "There's going to be a
mass for Rico tomorrow night and then the funeral is Saturday. It's
going to be really rough to see Munch so sad."

"
Yes, dealing with the family left behind is one
of the hardest things I do." Humberto was surprised he had
spoken these sentiments out loud. He closed his eyes and saw Felix's
face, more specifically the pain in his cousin's eyes. There was
never a good way to give such bad news, but perhaps he had been too
abrupt. Maybe if he had let some of his own true feelings leak
through, shown some empathy, the burden would have been lighter for
the sharing. It had been a long time since he stopped and truly
looked hard into his own heart. Victoria had pointed this out to him
just the other day. He could hear her voice.

"
Hey, big boy."

He opened his eyes, momentarily disoriented. It was
not Victoria speaking to him now, but this Americana. This Ellen.

"
Are you going to sleep on me?" She pouted
playfully.

"
No." He pulled her to him and kissed her
mouth, a little surprised at his own impulsiveness.

She nestled into him, placing her head on his
shoulders, and bending her knees so that her feet were tucked under
her. "So how long did you know Rico?"

He allowed his hand to rest on her thigh. She didn't
object. "I really didn't know him at all. Sometimes I feel as if
I don't know anyone."

He felt tears fill his eyes, but he wasn't ashamed.
This was a break-through. And this woman, this beautiful Angeleno,
was responsible.

"Oh, pshaw." Ellen kissed him on the cheek
and ran a hand across his chest. "I find that hard to believe.
You're real easy to talk to and not so bad on the eyes either."

He sighed. "I would have liked to attend
university, perhaps studied history."

"
I was never much for school," Ellen
admitted. "I couldn't get out of my house soon enough."

"
I was the oldest son. We were poor. Senor
Delaguerra offered me work and I couldn't refuse. I didn't want to
refuse. I was the envy of my friends, and soon I could afford many
things." He flexed his feet, bringing the toes of his snakeskin
boots into view, and stared at them a moment as if he were seeing
them for the first time.

Ellen brushed a hand between Humberto's legs.
Holy
crap!
she thought, and almost asked him if
his first job had been as a mule; he was sure built like one.
Probably had some kind of stamina, too. Even with the pentothal
lowering his blood pressure, he was already hard enough to get the
job done.

She struggled to bring the conversation back on
point. "Rico grew up poor, too."

Humberto was not to be drawn away from his
self-discovery. "I wouldn't have minded working with my hands.
There is no shame in that."

"
My friend Munch—" she started to say,
but Humberto cut her off before she could finish her sentence.

"
People look at me, they see a big man, a
frightening man. Senor Delaguerra treats me as if I was another of
his pistols, to be aimed and shot at his will, but I'm so much more."

"
I'm sure you are." Ellen looked at the
clock. He had to be feeling the full effects of the drugs by now. She
had expected it to put him out or at least into serious twilight.
Obviously, she'd miscalculated his body weight and tolerance. There
also, apparently, was no getting him back on the topic of Rico. She
kissed him again, this time putting one of his big paws on her
breast. He didn't fumble. He was almost too tender.

They necked for another ten minutes, until she
inferred that his blood pressure was restored to normal levels.

"
Wait a minute," she said.

He stopped. "I'm sorry. Do you want me to
leave?"

"
Leave?" She almost laughed at his
innocence, his old-world manners. "Heavens, no. We're just
getting to the good part. C'mon." He staggered a bit when he
stood, but quickly recovered.

She led him into her bedroom. He lit the candles by
her bed and shut off the light. She started to unbutton her blouse.
He stopped her and tilted her face to look up at his. "Are you
sure?"

"
If you were looking for the Virgin Mary, honey,
you came to the wrong cabana."

His touch lost its gentleness, and Ellen wondered
when she had given up control of the evening. The boy wasn't a pistol
as much as a rocket, and didn't those blow up sometimes when they
were fired?
 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 
ON FRIDAY MORNING, ROGER CAME BY MUNCHES HOUSE
AS promised. Or was the correct term "threatened"? He
parked out front and let himself in the front gate. Jasper barked
nonstop as the cop made his way to her door. By the time he knocked,
Jasper's hackles were sticking straight up, and he had assumed the
charge position.