Tequila Sunset (17 page)

“So you’ll look into it?” Felix asked. “Try to identify them?”

“For whatever good it will do. We got lucky on the Salvadoran thing, but you know how it is with fires.”

“I know.”

The fourth torso was dropped onto the sheet. It still smoldered.

FOURTEEN

C
RISTINA SIGNED OUT EARLY AND WENT
home. She paid Ashlee for a full night’s work and made dinner herself. It was just things she could thaw out in the oven or the microwave, though she made macaroni and cheese from a box.

Freddie was at his computer, building in Roblox. When Cristina came home he said nothing until Cristina came over and kissed him on the forehead. “Hi, Mom,” he said.

“Hello, peanut.”

She put his plate on the desk beside the computer. Freddie would eat bites between clicks, his eyes hardly flickering from the screen. Cristina thought about putting on something Freddie might enjoy, like the show that showed how factories made different things, but he was engrossed and she didn’t want to disturb him.

From time to time she felt guilty for letting him play and not insisting that they do something together. Once they had put together a simple jigsaw puzzle on the coffee table and he seemed to like it, but when she bought another he was no longer interested. Now it was just Roblox and only Roblox and nothing could deter him. Even when he played with real plastic bricks he called it “playing Roblox for real.”

There were three sheets of homework in Freddie’s folder from school. They would go undone. This was something else Cristina felt guilty for. She reasoned it away by thinking Freddie worked hard all day at school to follow the rules and do his work and the
last thing he needed was for that atmosphere to come into his home. Sometimes she would fill out the answers to the worksheets herself, but most of the time they went straight into the trash, as they did tonight.

He had a point sheet that reviewed his day, period by period. If he consistently raised his hand before talking he would earn a point. If he managed to go a period without having a fit of anger or frustration, he earned a point. Today he had earned almost all his points with just a few rough spots. Cristina signed the bottom and put the sheet back in his folder.

The phone rang and it was Robinson. Cristina turned the sound down on the television.

“You left before I had a chance to get back to my desk,” Robinson said.

“Yeah, I know. Busy day.”

“I heard you went to Juárez.”

“I did. Met with their guy in the PFM. He seems all right.”

“Just all right?”

“We’ll call it ‘all right’ for now.”

“You’re going to tell me all about it, aren’t you?”

“Sure, tomorrow. You don’t want me to lay it out for you on the phone.”

Robinson paused and Cristina could almost hear him nod. “I was thinking. About that kid, Flip. We need to set up regular contacts, especially if he’s close to José. Anything he tells us we can feed up the pipe.”

“We don’t want to push it. They might be watching him.”

“I know, but we can’t let him go to waste, either.”

Cristina looked at Freddie’s back. His left hand twitched on the keyboard and his right hand worked the mouse, steering his virtual plastic avatar through a fanciful land of houses made of multicolored bricks. He passed a flowerbed someone had made. Cristina wondered if it was possible to water them.

“Still there?” Robinson asked.

“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry, my mind was wandering. If you want, we can give Flip a call tomorrow and tell him what to keep his ear out for. Now that we know the target is José, he should be on the lookout for anything he can give us on him.”

“I like it. How’s Freddie?”

“He’s being Freddie. Playing his game.”

“I showed Louise how to play it the other day. Maybe they can be buddies online.”

“He’d like that. He said he wanted to put some people on his friends list, but you never know who’s a kid and who’s a pervert.”

“I make Louise play on the computer in the kitchen so we can see what she’s doing.”

Cristina looked back to Freddie. At the bottom of the screen was a constantly scrolling bar of text, the inhabitants of Roblox communicating with each other. She had the game set to “safe chat,” so Freddie could only communicate through sentences constructed from a drop-down menu. He wanted to have it the other way, but there were the perverts to consider. It was better like this.

“I don’t want to be rude, but I’m probably going to go to bed early tonight,” Cristina said.

“Don’t let me keep you up.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll tell Freddie about Louise.”

“Good night.”

Cristina dropped the phone on the couch beside her. The TV was showing a commercial about a glove that peeled potatoes. She shut it off. “Hey, peanut,” she said, “let’s wrap it up. I want you to take a bath tonight. And we have to brush your teeth.”

He didn’t answer, but she knew he heard. After five minutes she got up and stood behind him. “Let’s go. Save and quit now.”

“Can I play some more?”

“Not tonight. It’s bath time.”

She left him alone to start the bathwater, knowing that he would
use every extra minute to play the game until it was
really
time to move. Cristina put bubbles in the bath to make it more fun. When it was just the right temperature she called him and he came.

When he was naked he looked like all arms and legs, gangly and skinny. He still did not know how to bathe himself, so it was up to Cristina to use a washcloth and scrub him down. She washed his hair and for her own amusement spiked it up into devil’s horns. After the washing was done, Freddie liked to wait until the water was completely drained before hopping out of the tub to be dried.

There was pajamas and tooth-brushing and Freddie snuggled into his blanket while Cristina made up a story about a hamster who went to school. Freddie wanted a hamster of his very own. Before she was finished, he was asleep.

Cristina put out the lights in the house and undressed in the dark. Though she was tired, she didn’t fall asleep right away. She stared at the ceiling, thinking of nothing except what dreams she might have. Her last thought was of Freddie playing in the bubble bath, making an elevator out of bubbles.

FIFTEEN

T
HEY TOLD HIM WHAT TO LISTEN FOR AND
when to call them. They gave him their personal phone numbers with instructions to contact them day or night if he had something useful. Flip did not call for three weeks.

On most weekdays he worked in the warehouse and things were good. He got his first paycheck and repaid his mother for the shoes with enough money left over to open a checking account. He made arrangements with Alfredo for his check to be direct-deposited.

On weekends he saw Graciela. She was close to finishing her time at the cosmetology school and she told him stories about all the job opportunities there were in the nail business and how she’d be able to save up fast for her own place. Her nail salon would be in Segundo Barrio “for all the local girls,” and she would be able to walk to work. She even had the spot picked out: an empty space in a little strip mall next to a liquor store.

Flip and Graciela made love in the back of her Hyundai at the end of a dead-end street near the cosmetology school. It was cramped and uncomfortable, but when Flip was with her he didn’t mind the difficulty. He asked her when he could go to her place or meet her folks. She always said “soon.”

They went twice to the club and danced. Graciela got to mingle with her girlfriends and Flip spent time talking with Emilio. Flip did not think they were friends, but they were close enough to talk frankly and that was close enough for him.

“You see that girl?” Emilio said one night. He pointed to a slightly chunky girl in a tight dress with a wide bottom. She danced with the enthusiasm of a much lighter girl and when she caught sight of Emilio watching, she blew him a kiss.

“I see her,” Flip said.

“I’m going to marry her.”

Emilio was six beers into his drinking, the empties on the table of their booth. Flip was closed in by a couple on his left side and pushed up close to Emilio such that he could smell the alcohol on his breath when he talked.

“Aren’t you too young to get married?” Flip asked.

“I’m twenty-four,” Emilio said. “That’s plenty old.”

“I guess so. Does she want to get married?”

“You kidding? That’s all she ever wants to talk about. When am I going to get her a ring? How big is the ring going to be? And all that. We could get married tomorrow and she would be thrilled.”

Flip looked around for Graciela, but he didn’t see her. He wondered if she’d retreated to the VIP room where José held court and brushed away the twinge of jealousy that gave him. “Graciela never talks about that,” he said.

“She’s in no hurry to settle down,” Emilio said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she likes to party. Know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t know what you mean.”

Emilio waved Flip away. “Alicia likes to party, too, but she’s been looking for a husband all her life. Suits me fine. If I say I’m going to marry her, she lets me get away with anything.”

Flip swallowed the question he wanted to ask. “Like what?”

“Like when I keep my weight at her place.”

“The weight you move for José?”

“Yeah. I don’t keep it at
my
place. I got a record and it’s the first place the cops would look. But her, she doesn’t even have a parking ticket. I move everything through her.”

“What are you going to do when you get married?”

“I guess I’ll have to keep it at my girlfriend’s place then,” Emilio said and he laughed. “Hey, tell the waitress I want another beer.”

Flip got the couple on his left to move and he slid out of the booth. He found a waitress and pointed her toward Emilio, then went back to the VIP area. Tonight there was a bouncer in place with a clipboard. He asked for Flip’s name.

“You’re not on the list,” the bouncer said.

“I know José,” Flip said. “I just want to see if my girlfriend’s back there.”

“I can’t let you go in.”

“Come on, man, I don’t want to stay. I just want to get my girlfriend.”

“You’re not getting through. Sorry.”

Flip thought about trying to rush around the man, but it was useless. He found a table near the VIP entrance and waited until a waitress came by to take his order. His shoulders felt tense and they would not relax. Graciela did not come out until three beers later and his mind was working. “Hey, Flip,” she said. “What are you doing out here alone?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“I wish I knew. I was just talking to my girls.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Flip said.

“What? Sure.”

Flip herded her toward the exit, his hand on her elbow. They rushed through the front doors and Graciela almost tripped. “Hey, slow down,” she said.

There was a wait while the valet went to fetch her car. Flip looked back into the club. No one followed them out. “You were just talking to your girls?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“What about José?”

“I said hi to him. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ What’s wrong?”

“It’s something Emilio said.”

A dark look passed over Graciela’s face. “What did that
idiota
say?”

The doorman and the valets weren’t paying attention to them. Flip felt the muscle in his jaw working. “He just said some things about how you like to party.”

“Sure, I like to party. Everybody knows I like to party.”

“He said you liked to
party
.”

“
What?
Did he call me a whore?”

The doorman looked their way. Flip put himself between the man and Graciela. “He said you weren’t in no hurry to settle down.”

“That’s what he said?”

“Yeah,” Flip said and he began to feel stupid for saying anything at all.

“I’m
twenty-one years old
, Flip! Of course I’m not looking to settle down!”

“I just thought—”

“You thought that means I like to fuck around? I don’t believe this! Is that why you asked me about José? You think I fucked José in front of everybody, or what?”

Flip put his hands up, but he wanted to beat his own head in. “Forget I said anything. I’m being crazy.”

“There’s crazy and then there’s being a
pendejo
, Flip. How much did you drink tonight?”

“I’m not drunk. I’m just an asshole.”

“You got that right.”

Graciela’s car came. Everyone was staring now. Flip took the passenger seat, though he expected her to drive away without him.

She spent the drive muttering to herself and striking the steering
wheel with the palm of her hand. Flip heard her say Emilio’s name more than once.

“I want to say—” Flip started.

“Don’t say nothing! You’re not talking.”

“Okay.”

“I should dump your dumb ass at your mamá’s house and say good-bye for good, you know that? After I treated you right, you listen to
Emilio
? Emilio is a dumbass. His girl had more boyfriends than
anybody
. Calling
me
a whore? I’m going to tear his balls off.”

“Hey—”

Graciela put up a hand. “You’re still not talking. You don’t talk ’til I say so. No, wait: you answer me something. If I’m some kind of
puta
, what does that make you?”

“I don’t know. Listen, I’m sorry.”

“I introduce you around, I tell you it’s okay that you were in prison and the first time someone says something bad about me, you believe it?”

“I said I was sorry.”

“I don’t know if sorry’s going to cut it, Flip.”

Flip didn’t say anything. He let her drive and from time to time she took her eyes off the road to glare at him.

“I like you, Flip. I like you a lot,” she said finally.

“I like you, too.”