Chapter Fourteen

It was a long walk to where I'd left Eli at the Espinoza Speedy Gas Station. I entered the little courtyard from the back way. I wasn't anxious to come under the eyes of Señora Espinoza again. The seat under the tree was empty. The soda bottle sat on the table beside it. It was empty, too. Our bags were gone. I waited a moment, hoping something would miraculously change. Eli would emerge from the men's room with all our bags, having been worried they would be stolen while he was inside. Eli would stroll in with everything over his arm, having walked down to a café. Eli would pop up from the middle of the ground or fall from a tree. None of those things happened. Oh, dammit. If I hadn't been so tired, I would have kicked something. Instead I put a lid on my rage and pushed open the back door of the garage. I had to talk to Señora and Señor Espinoza. I hadn't liked the wife much, and I wasn't disposed to like both of them any more now. I tried to arrange my face in an expression they might think was sweet. I may not have managed that. The Espinozas were playing a game of checkers on a table in the main room of the gas station. Señora Espinoza was slovenly and surly, and her husband looked cast from the same mold. They pretended not to see me. I glanced through the big window overlooking the two pumps. There were no customers. I'd gotten the impression that business was poor. That's why I'd figured they wouldn't object to letting the car and Eli sit around in the tiny rear courtyard. "My brother has gone," I said as mildly as I could manage. Of course they knew that already. Señora Espinoza made a good stab at looking amazed. "He told us he had remembered where to find the cousin you are seeking," Señor Espinoza said, his awful, droopy mustache wiggling with every word. I thought about that, staring at the man all the while. Señor Espinoza began to look uneasy. "He left your little bags with us," he said. "With another token of his appreciation." Señora Espinoza pointed helpfully to the little area behind the señor's chair, and I saw our personal luggage—a knapsack in my case, a sort of valise in Eli's. Nothing else. I snatched up the bags and looped the straps across my body, thinking all the while. The guns were gone. Eli had presumably taken that bag with him . . . unless the Espinozas had stolen it. At least I had the Colt and the knife. Oh, and Eli's protective rock. I put my hand in my pocket. I was mulling over how much attention the señora's screams would draw before I was sure I'd gotten the truth out of her husband. I was not as fancy an interrogator as the late Paulina, but I could get the truth out of a slouch like Espinoza. The garage owner seemed to understand where my thoughts were going. "Your brother seemed in his right mind, and he is your elder, so we didn't question him," Señor Espinoza said, trying to sound righteously angry. "My brother is not in his right mind," I snapped. "Which way did he go? Did you see him speak to anyone?" "He came in here and said—in English, which we understand a little . . ." His wife nodded frantically. Maybe she had caught a glimpse of the knife. I must have drawn it by accident. "He said that he had had an alert? That he must follow, and he would return for you." "How long ago was that?" The couple looked at each other. Señora Espinoza said, "That was less than an hour ago." Her husband nodded. I just about believed them, if only because Eli could have mopped the floor with the two of them in less time than it took to light a match. I didn't know how the Espinozas could have stopped Eli from leaving, or why they'd even imagine doing that, but I was angry with them anyway. If I hadn't come in all worried, they would have let me sit out on that patio waiting, and waiting, before they told me what had happened. "Which way?" I asked, my voice angry enough to make them cringe. Señora Espinoza pointed right. She didn't think about it, so that meant she was telling the truth . . . at least, I thought so. "You will see me again," I told them. "If anything has happened to my brother. You will see me again and you will not be happy about that." I was hissing by the time I finished. I spun on my heel and walked out of the open door and into the glaring sun. I didn't look back, but I was willing to bet the Espinozas were staring after me, and I hoped they were scared out of their wits. Just not scared enough to talk to the police. Fucking Eli. I walked in the direction he'd chosen, trying to think how I'd track him. In a city. He'd taken our canteens, the ones that still held water. Of course. I stopped at a pump to rent a cup from a tiny kid, and drank. I washed my face while I was there. I spared a moment to be grateful I had the car sale money on me; at least I could get back home if Eli was dead. If I couldn't track him down, this would be the second job in a row where some of my clients had died. Except this time it would be all of them. I had to stop thinking of any future. This was now, this was all there was. So far I'd walked in a straight line south from the garage. The farther I went into town, the more congested the streets became. There were cars and horses and burros and bicycles and people on foot, many people. And the grid plan of the newer neighborhoods collapsed into the random jumble of older areas. Though the same broad avenue continued, it passed through squares full of businesses, with stalls set up close to the traffic. The cross streets narrowed into alleys that meandered in a confusing way. Glancing down them, I could see trash and homeless people crouched in corners they'd cleared. I didn't see a single man or woman in uniform. No police. There were street markets everywhere, stalls selling anything you might want, and little storefronts with shutters that would close at night. There were men playing music. Vendors shouted at me to look at whatever they had to sell. I paused, hoping I didn't look as lost as I felt. Eli could have turned off into any of the cross streets. He could have wandered into any of the alleys. He could be winding through the maze of homes that were not more than huts. I could see them, a block or two away from this busy avenue. He'd been gone over an hour by now. His long legs could cover a lot of ground in an hour. I was due for some luck. And I had it.