Shady Lady

The Day After

First thing in the morning, my phone rang. I’d almost forgotten Escobar had given it back to me. I glanced at the number and, with a flicker of relief, identified my caller.

“Jesse.”

When he was worried, his drawl became more pronounced, and he sounded like pure Texas just now. “I’d love to know what’s goin’ on with you, sugar.”

Good—he didn’t know about what had happened at the shop. I hoped Shannon wouldn’t say anything before tonight; I’d feel better telling him in person. “Things are . . . complicated.”

“Are you safe?” His cop mind sorted the probabilities faster than I wanted. “Does this have to do with Montoya?”

That was like asking a mouse in the gullet of a cobra how its day was going, but he didn’t need to know that. “Yeah . . . and yeah. I’ll see you tonight at Chuch and Eva’s if you’re not doing anything. We’ll talk about everything then.”

He laughed. “The woman I want to see hits town and you ask if I can make room in my schedule? I think I’m offended.”

Jesse wanted me to move to Texas and rejoin the America he called home. He wanted me to get an apartment and meet his family. I know he foresaw Fourth of July barbecues and Thanksgiving dinners, wherein he could show me what I’d missed.

I knew I had trust issues, but part of me wasn’t sure he could accept what I was doing to ensure my own survival. His sense of morality wasn’t fluid; he came from a bedrocksolid foundation, and he’d never slept in a bus station. It’d be better if I could look into his eyes and explain what I’d done, along with the choices I’d made. If he cared about me as much as he claimed, he’d understand the necessity.

“Well, I didn’t want to assume.” There were no promises between us, so he might’ve had plans. He had a way with the ladies, and I didn’t expect him to change his life unless I showed up in Laredo, ready to open a shop and commit to a relationship.

“You caught me on a free night,” he admitted then. “I’ll be there.”

Once we disconnected, I checked out and went out front to wait for Shannon. She arrived twenty minutes later.

“Where’s Kel?” Shan asked as I got in the car.

Chuch had sent her to pick me up in one of his spares. This one was a half-restored but functional 1972 Dodge Charger. She looked fine, healthy, and her black hair sported new pink tips on the bottom. God, I hoped she had my purse. I hadn’t seen it—or Butch—since Escobar took me.

I swallowed hard. “Gone.”

“He bailed on you?” Her expression darkened.

“He saw me through what he needed to. Please don’t blame him. He reports to a higher authority.” Whatever else had come of this, I believed in his orders.

The Charger peeled out of the parking lot. It wasn’t the same shitty La Quinta I’d stayed in when I was here with Chance, but all cheap motels more or less looked the same. Escobar’s men had given me a small wad of bills, payment for my time, and dropped me off at one they knew accepted cash. Since I didn’t have any ID on me, it had to be a place like that.

“Someone in the backseat wants to say hi.”

I slid my knee up on the seat so I could twist at the waist. Butch popped out of my purse, which was lying on the backseat, and gave a happy little bark with his tail wagging in excitement. I reached for him and cuddled him to my chest. He licked my face and hands, vibrating doggy Morse code for, Dude, I missed you; where you have you been? For long moments I just petted him and tried to let go of the surreal quality of the past days.

Maybe that was the best attitude to take. It wasn’t real. None of it was real. Therefore, I couldn’t miss him.

Shannon drove while I cuddled an ecstatic Butch. Her familiarity impressed me. Clearly she hadn’t spent her time sitting around Chuch’s house all day. “I’ve been helping Eva,” she explained. “Running errands. Grocery shopping. You wouldn’t believe how cranky and tired she is.”

By my reckoning, she must be more than eight months along by now, so I would. “I’m glad you’re both okay.” I included Butch in the word both by rubbing my chin against his head. Wag, wag, wag. His tail thumped against my arm.

“They’re great,” she said, smiling. “I mean, I felt weird at first, but Chuch said, ‘Any friend of Corine’s,’ and they just took me in, no questions asked.”

“That sounds like him.” My throat felt choky. It wasn’t like me to get tearful so fast; life had given me a harder shell than that, but I’d seen and suffered too much in the past few days, so my emotions bobbed near the surface. “Would you rather stay? I mean, Eva will need help after the baby comes.”

At this point, I didn’t know where I was going, if I would survive the encounter with Montoya. I touched the pendant I wore, ostensibly to protect me from being located by Montoya’s sorcerer. For all I knew, it could also compel my loyalty or give me plantar warts.

My mother would’ve known.

There was no guarantee I’d ever be able to repair the shop. No guarantee of anything, really, and part of me thought Shannon should stay with Chuch and Eva, where she’d be safe. They offered the family warmth she needed.

“Are you kidding?” She cut me a quick look before she went back to watching the road. “I want to see the world, not settle down in some Texas town. Seems to me that sticking with you is the best way to accomplish that.”

“Well, that much is true.”

Butch yapped, leaving me in no doubt about his opinion. Holding him made me feel better, despite the uncertainty. The rest of the ride passed in silence.

The Ortiz family home hadn’t changed much since my last visit. It was still a good-size stone ranch house, but I did notice a couple of improvements. Instead of having halffixed cars in the driveway, which drove Eva crazy, Chuch had paved some ground to the right of the garage, out of sight. Since they had substantial property, it didn’t lessen their lot size, only increased the appeal of the place.

Shannon pulled the Charger onto the cement pad. Two other cars kept ours company, an Impala with its guts hanging out, and a sweet little Ford Opal. The latter looked like it was nearly finished.

I reached over the seat, snagged my purse, and slid out of the car, Butch nestled in the crook of my arm.

Shannon’s eyes widened as she took her first good look since I hopped into the car. “Holy shit.”

Despite the heaviness of my heart, I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I’m planning my own infomercial: the Jungle Diet.”

She laughed as I meant her to and led the way to the front door, where Eva stood waiting. I ran to hug her. It had been months since I’d seen her, and the belly didn’t permit the kind of embrace she preferred. We managed.

“Look at this,” she said, holding me at arm’s length. “I’m big as a whale, and you’re skinny.”

I wasn’t sure I’d go that far, but it was nice to hear. I knew I’d dropped some weight. I’d sweated and walked and eaten little and fallen in a river and then fallen—

No. Not that. Never that. If nothing else, I was a realist. While I might indulge secret pipe dreams, I understood the difference between desirable and attainable.

“How’re you feeling?” I asked, following her inside.

“Huge. The baby keeps kicking me in the kidneys, and I have to pee all the time.”

I filed that away for future reference. It seemed unlikely I’d ever have children of my own, but one never knew. “Where’s Chuch?”

“He ran to the store to get me some pistachios. I’m going to crush them up and put them on cherry-swirl ice cream.”

As weird pregnancy cravings went, I’d heard worse. “Look, I’ll tell you guys the whole story, as I promised, but I’d rather wait for Jesse to get here. That way, I only have to tell it once.”

“Fine with me,” Shannon said.

Eva nodded. “Nena, the only thing that matters is that you’re here and you’re safe. You know we’ve got your back.”

That was the problem; I did know. And I didn’t want to lead trouble to their door. I was here only because of Escobar’s pendant, and maybe I trusted him too much. He was a bad guy, after all, but I thought he possessed a rigid sense of personal honor, apart from what he did for a living. But if I were wrong about him, if he was using me as bait right now, I endangered Chuch, Eva, and their unborn child. Just thinking about the potential consequences filled me with horror.

On second thought—

“You know,” I said, striving not to show my sudden fear, “I only have the clothes I’m standing in. Do you feel up to going shopping?”

Eva shook her head. “I wish I did.”

I’d known as much when I asked. I could see that her ankles were swollen and she needed to get off her feet. But I didn’t want her worrying in her condition, and shopping provided the most believable reason for me to scram as soon as I arrived. Dammit, why didn’t I consider the danger before I brought my problems to their front door?

Shannon started to protest, and I knew she was about to say she still had the bag I’d taken to Catemaco. I quelled her with a look. Not now. We need to go.

“Would you mind if Shannon took me to the mall in the Charger? Chuch will be home soon, right?”

“Yeah, he just popped down to the mini-mart. He’s going to be sorry he missed you. Are you sure you have to run off again?”

“I’ll be back,” I promised in Arnold tones. “But I do need to get some things, and we might as well take care of it before we rally the troops.”

Kel had mentioned something along those lines, I remembered. You muster your allies, he’d said. And plan for war. Escobar had compared me to a general, and I didn’t like where that comparison ended. Me, sending people to fight and die on my behalf. Yet there was no question I had changed; perhaps one day soon I would be cold enough not to care. The prospect unsettled me.

“You’re going to Del Norte?” Eva asked Shannon.

The girl nodded. “I know the way; don’t worry.”

Eva grinned. “I wasn’t worrying. I was going to ask you to get those Disney decals we looked at last time we were there.”

“No problem.”

When she tried to lever off the sofa to get her purse, I said, “Don’t get up. It’s my treat. A small thank-you for taking care of Shannon while I was gone.”

“Claro,” Eva said. “She’s family now.”

Though she tried to hide it, I could see the pleasure rising in Shannon’s pale face. Like me, she had been cut off from forming bonds with people. “Oh, goody,” she muttered. “We’re going shopping.”

Butch in bag, I climbed back into the car. On the way, I explained to Shannon why I didn’t want to linger at Chuch and Eva’s place. “And I don’t have anyone here I can ask to verify this amulet—that it does hide me and nothing more. I’m not taking any chances with their safety.”

Her lips firmed. “But you’ll risk ours?”

I hid a wince. Yeah, the game plan for taking out Montoya permanently wasn’t going to make anyone happy tonight. Unfortunately, I was committed.

As we approached the mall, I said, “Keep going on San Dario.”

If memory served, there was a Goodwill store farther down. I did need to augment my meager belongings, but I didn’t see why I should pay mall prices. I hadn’t grown up roaming consumer megaplexes as a kid, so there was no nostalgia in it for me, only expensive merchandise. And while I had a small wad of money from Escobar that added up to nearly a thousand bucks, along with the fifteen hundred pesos in my purse, I didn’t know how long that would have to last. I’d been broke and starving before; I didn’t intend to let it happen again.

I saw the sign ahead. “Turn there.”

For the first time since we’d gotten the car, Shannon smiled. “Okay, I’ll stop being mad at you. This is very cool.”

Whoa, she was more like me than I’d realized. We parked and got out; the lot was nearly empty. I wore a bemused expression as I followed her toward the building. Most people thought thrift stores were all seedy and disorganized, but I’d been in some that were better maintained than Wal-Mart. This was a nice one with the racks of clothing sorted by sex and size. I liked these places because you never knew what you might find; the treasure hunt appealed to the pawnshop owner in me.

I quickly located a couple of pairs of jeans, some tank tops, and a few pretty Mexican peasant blouses. Shopping in Texas meant I could satisfy my quirky sense of style. I found a retro blue cardigan to replace my old green one. I’d miss that sweater. Like nearly everything else I owned—and a few items were irreplaceable—it had been destroyed in the blast.

They had a small fitting room where I could make sure everything worked. While I was in there, Shannon convinced me to add a wide leather belt with some interesting stitchery on it. “I’ve seen the look in magazines. It’s kind of like yours, only—no, not like that.”

I stood patient while she untucked my blouse and fastened the belt on top of the fabric. Okay, I liked it. With a nod, I handed it to her and she put it in our basket. Pretty soon I had a basic wardrobe. Nothing fancy, but for fancy occasions I already had the white dress. I just didn’t know if I could wear it without remembering the look of admiration in Kel’s eyes. He’d lived so damn long and seen so many women. If he saw something in me to appreciate, then it carried weight.

She also brought me a plain black vest. I was convinced it would make me look like a valet or a waitress, but she paired it with old ratty jeans and a white tank. With a strand of chunky beads, I found the look suited me.

“Wow, you’re good at this. You should go into business.”

Enthusiasm lit her expression. “You know, while you were gone, I was thinking . . . we should go into business together. Like partners? You could sell your treasures, and I could do vintage clothing.”

“You mean a thrift shop, instead of a pawnshop. We’d buy on consignment instead of paying cash.” That would mean looking at lots of old clothes, of course, but from Shannon’s expression, she’d be happy to handle that part.

If I lived, if Escobar paid out, I’d have enough to rebuild. I owned the property where my shop stood through a fideicomiso , which meant through the good offices of the Mexican bank acting as trustee on my behalf. I had all the benefits of being a direct title holder, and the contract lasted for fifty years, renewable for another fifty, and I could transfer ownership anytime I wanted.

Belatedly I realized I’d kept Shannon waiting too long; the light started to die in her eyes. I answered quickly, “That sounds great. Kind of a spooky vintage place.”

“I know how we can attract the college crowd too.” As we walked, she outlined her ideas, and they were good, though I wasn’t sure we should display our gifts.

“No,” she insisted. “They’ll think it’s fake. That’s the cool part. But they’ll want to hear the stories of whatever we’re selling too. They’ll come for the entertainment and you’ll be able to tell which ones should buy what.”

That was true enough. “I like it. Start thinking about a name, okay?”

I had to think positive: new beginnings and happy endings. Since I had only my small gray duffel, the rest of these clothes needed somewhere to live. A little while later, I found the perfect suitcase, probably from the sixties or seventies. When I picked it up, it wanted to show me where it had been . . . and I let it. There came a minor burn, but no trauma in this bag—only the happy excitement of a girl going away to college. She used it in the early seventies and then tucked it away, forgot about it as the loud flowered fabric fell out of style. But I loved the crazy floral print and the red plastic handle with matched binding. The thing carried a price tag of three dollars.

Shannon sighed when she saw what I had. “You are so not decorating our new place by yourself.”

I grinned at her, leading the way up front. A few knickknacks distracted me, but I didn’t let them keep me long. I had no business buying anything until I knew where I was setting up home base. I didn’t let myself consider the alternative: that I had no future and Montoya won.

Another reason I loved thrift stores? My total purchases when the cashier rang me out came to less than fifty bucks. I paid with one of Escobar’s hundreds, and the clerk narrowed her eyes at me. Damn, I hoped it was clean. The way I was dressed, she doubtless thought I was up to something, shopping at Goodwill and dropping big bills.

“I got mugged,” I offered. By a firebomb. It was almost true. “So a friend wired me some money. I need clothes but I didn’t want to spend a fortune.”

Her distrust softened into sympathy as she saw the few pesos in my wallet. “Oh, honey, stay away from the border. They’re mean as snakes around there.”

“Do you mind if I change out of this dress into something casual?” I lifted the bag and tilted my head toward the fitting room.

“Not at all.”

Because it made Shannon happy, I put on the jeans, white tank, and black vest, along with the necklace—the exact outfit she’d recommended. The good leather sandals Escobar had bought me were stamped, MADE IN SPAIN, and they went with anything.

Shan popped the trunk and I folded my clothes in my obnoxiously floral suitcase. There was room for the stuff I’d taken to Catemaco too, and I could probably roll up my duffel bag. It would fit in the corner there. Staring down, I saw the remnants of my broken life, and it saddened me.

“It’ll be okay,” Shannon said quietly.

I gave her an impulsive hug around the shoulders. “I know. I got you, babe.”

“Please tell me you’re not gonna sing.”

“How do you even know that one, anyway?”

“Oldies radio,” she said with an exaggerated shudder.

“Sonny and Cher were before my time too.” I got in the Charger. “Let’s go to Target. There’s one a mile and a half up the road.”

“What else can you possibly need?”

I sighed. One thing I never bought used. “Underwear.”

“Right.”

We didn’t linger. I hated big stores with fluorescent lighting and people wandering around who seemed angry to answer your questions. Sometimes dealing with customers could be nightmarish, but I loved helping people find stuff.

My phone rang on the way out of the store. I peered at the caller ID—unknown number. With some trepidation, I answered, “Hello?”

“¿Bueno?” I’d recognize Tia’s voice anywhere.

“Sí, bueno. ¿Como está usted?”

“No hay mucho tiempo, pero estoy feliz que estás a salvo.” Not much time, but I’m glad you’re safe, I translated mentally. She went on in Spanish. “I’ve called before, but I got voice mail. I have a metal box from your house. It was all I could save from the thieves looting the place.”

Oh, my God. My mother’s grimoires. Even if I couldn’t use them, it would mean everything to touch them again.

“¿Puede enviarmela por FedEx?” I asked.

I agreed to wire her some money via Western Union. There was a place she could pick up the cash near her home. Shan and I took care of that, and then I called back with Chuch and Eva’s address; Tia agreed to send the books overnight. I thanked her profusely and hung up, relieved beyond words.

The day was half gone by that point, so we stopped for barbecue at a little dive on Lafayette that Chuch liked. I fed Butch tidbits from my plate, and he showed his appreciation by licking my fingers. I gave him a drink in the ladies’ room and then we paused for him to do business on the scrubby trees that landscaped the place.

I sent a text message to Booke, letting him know I was all right and in Texas. Shannon started the car and backed out of the restaurant lot. I was glad we’d been able to eat our sandwiches without the car exploding, like it had with Chance and me the last time I was in Texas. I didn’t know about going back to Chuch and Eva’s place, but maybe I could use the grimoires to set rune wards, not just herbal ones.

“We should get the decals now,” Shannon said.

I nodded agreement.

After that, I had only one thing left to do now: explain the devil’s bargain I had made with Escobar. I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.