The Parker Trilogy Page 28

  He stretched and sighed, then went upstairs, where Campos had already gone to wait in the squad room before the drive down to The Mayan.

  As he approached his desk, Parker saw that Campos had made the same decision.

  “No vest?” Parker asked.

  “Nope. You neither, I see.”

  Parker shook his head.

  “We’ll get away with the suits, maybe. The place has a dress code. But we’re gonna stand out by age alone with all the twenty-somethings.”

  “Good point.”

  “Anyway. After the call I just got?” Campos said with a smile. “If shit goes south tonight, I don’t think I wanna come back alive anyways.”

  “What?” Parker asked.

  “Your girl just called the station and asked to speak with me,” Campos said, still looking a bit put off.

  Parker was flabbergasted. “What?”

  “Yep. Wanted me to know that if anything happens to you tonight she’s gonna come in here and shoot my ass personally.”

  “No.”

  “Yep.”

  “Dude. That wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”

  Campos laughed. “It’s okay. You guys still got the ‘new cuddles’ going on, man. She cares.”

  Parker couldn’t even begin to imagine what “new cuddles” meant. “Yeah. But . . .”

  “But, ya know, now that I think about it, Parker, I believe your girl just threatened a peace officer.”

  They grabbed their jackets and headed to the car.

  “Is that what you’re calling yourself these days?”

  “Mostly.”

  “Well,” Parker smiled, feeling a little better. “It’s only a threat if you screw up.”

  “Gee. Thanks for that.”

  But Parker already regretted the words he’d just said.

  Because he heard Trudy’s voice in his head almost instantly.

  Double-jinx.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Father Soltera was on the 251 bus, looking through the rain-streaked windows that were aglow with white headlights and red tail lights from the outside traffic, when his cell phone rang. It was just past 8:00 p.m. When he saw that the caller ID read “Eden Hill” his heart sank. Luisa. No. Please let her be okay.

  The bus was almost full, so there would be next to no privacy, but he didn’t care. He answered, “Hello?”

  He recognized the voice on the other end of the line almost immediately. It was the new girl, Maggie. “Father Soltera?”

  “Yes. Maggie?”

  “Yeah. Hi. Sorry to call so late, but I just wanted to update you on Luisa real quick before I head home. It’s been a long day. Do you have a moment?”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Absolutely. Her mother came by and signed some papers. We’ve got her a room and tomorrow we’ll talk with the school and start getting her assignments emailed to her.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “Yes and no.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Luisa’s starting to have second thoughts about all this. I’m not sure she planned on being cut off from school and all her friends.”

  Father Soltera sighed. There was an old man with a bag of clothes standing nearby, talking loudly to one of the other passengers and making it hard to hear. “Well, does she understand why it’s important?”

  “Yes. I’ve told her, and she now has a caseworker. I think you know her—Sarah?”

  Father Soltera. “Great. Yes. I know her.”

  “Sarah has spoken with her twice now, so we’re hoping for the best. But Luisa’s already starting to rationalize her boyfriend’s behavior and trying to find a way to go back home.”

  “What does her mother say?”

  “I thought that might be a problem too, but she’s worried sick about her. She’s completely down with her being here. This Felix guy has been by the apartment four times since you brought her here, and the neighbors have seen him waiting outside the complex too.”

  “Did she tell Luisa that?”

  Maggie gave a sad chuckle. “Yeah. But even then . . . the rationalizing. Luisa thinks if she goes home and talks to him that it will calm things down. That’s possible, but highly unlikely. Usually the situation only escalates, especially if she continues to defy him. I’ve told her that. Sarah’s told her that. But she’s young . . .”

  “Yes. Very.” Looking around the bus, Father Soltera saw a child, maybe seven, bouncing on her mother’s lap. He could remember Luisa at that age. How is any of this happening?

  “She’s now saying that she may want to get an abortion, just to put this entire situation to rest.”

  “No,” Father Soltera murmured. Help her, Lord. Strengthen her will.

  “You may not want to hear this, Father, but we’ve told her that if that’s what she wants, we will help her get the proper care. And we’ve even told her that it may indeed make this guy go away. But we’ve also told her that we doubt it.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. Men like this, Father . . . his behavior is such that he’s claimed her. She’s younger than him, easier to manipulate. For a time, at least. But she’s also smarter than him, with a brighter future ahead of her. Normally, we’d expect him to want her pregnant. It would tend to inhibit her future and make her more reliant on him for financial and emotional support. All of it adds up to a dangerous alchemy.”

  The lights on the bus flickered for a moment, then came back on as a firetruck drew near, its sirens screaming into the air as it slowed at the intersection ahead. The bus driver braked and a few passengers that had their heads on their jackets against the window, evidently catching a few winks on the way home after a hard day’s work, jumped. “How so?”

  “Well,” Maggie said, her voice flat with concern, “Felix seems to be a conflicted kind of sociopath.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Sarah is going to be way more qualified to have this conversation with you than I, Father. Perhaps I should give her a message to call you tomorrow and—”

  “No.” Father Soltera was surprised at the firmness of his voice, which bordered on rude. But in his heart . . . there was something about Maggie. A pureness. A strength. “I want to hear it from you, please, Maggie.”

  “Speaking in pure confidentiality?” she asked, hesitation in her voice.

  “Are you Catholic?”

  She chuckled. “Yes.”

  “Then consider it a confessional conversation, without all the formalities.”

  There was silence, but when she spoke next it was with confidence tinged with a bit of anger. “He wanted to make her his. He did. Then, when she got pregnant, that was too serious. So now he wants her to get rid of the baby. If she complies . . . if she obeys . . . this will only get him off more. Uh. Sorry, Father. Bad choice of words.”

  Father Soltera smiled weakly. “It’s okay, Maggie. Go on.”

  “Once the abortion is done, he’ll want his plaything back. If she complies? The cycle begins again and only deepens. Even if she never gets pregnant again, it won’t matter. Any job she gets? He won’t like it. Any friend she makes? He won’t like them. If she dares speak to another man? He’ll flip out. He already was—and now is—threatening her with physical abuse. At some point he’ll cross the line and do it, or bully her so much with the threats that he won’t have to.”

  “And then?”

  “The odds say that there’s over a sixty percent chance that he’ll beat her at some point so bad she’ll have to go to the hospital.”

  Father Soltera knew these odds all too well. He shook his head as the bus continued on. His stop was a few miles away. “So, what if she doesn’t comply? What if, after the . . . what if she decides to make a clean break?”

  “She may get lucky, but again, the odds say he won’t go away anytime soon. Seeing her with another man, or even the thought of her with another man, could very well lead to the same beating and the same ER.”

  He felt helpless and comfort
able enough with this Maggie to say so. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Give me a sec, Father.” She spoke with someone in the background briefly, then came back. “Sorry. Shift change on this end. Ya know, Father, at this point there’s nothing you can do . . . except be careful.”

  These last three words startled him. “What?”

  “Felix is very upset, Father. Luisa has been removed from his sphere of influence, he doesn’t know where she is, but he feels certain that it’s your fault.”

  He felt disdain rise in his heart. “Is that so?”

  “Yes. He’s told Luisa’s mother that the next time he comes by the apartment and Luisa isn’t there, he’s heading straight to the church to, quote, teach you a lesson, unquote.”

  Father Soltera didn’t think of himself. Not for one second. He thought of Carol, the rest of the staff and the volunteers and their safety. The church was closed now, so it wasn’t an immediate concern, but still. “I know. He called me.”

  “He did? What’d he say?”

  “The usual tough guy stuff.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  He sighed. “No. I figured he was just drunk or high. If he calls again, I will.”

  “Okay, but . . .”

  “It’s okay, Maggie. As long as Luisa is safe, that’s all that matters.”

  “Fair enough. I admire you. I really do. But there’s, uh, one more thing . . .” Her voice was so hesitant that it grew faint.

  He cleared his throat and glanced back at the little girl in her mother’s arms. She was seated and playing absentmindedly with a long piece of purple thread. “Go on, Maggie. It’s okay.”

  “Well, Father, please don’t think I’m a mystic or anything . . .”

  He was taken aback. “What?”

  “It’s just that, well, I have dreams sometimes…”

  “Dreams?”

  “Yes. Mostly of words. Latin words. Sometimes spoken, other times I can see them. The words, I mean. Last night I dreamed of a church. You were in it and someone was sitting next to me, it was a man’s voice, he said the words.”

  Father Soltera squinted at the sharp lines of graffiti carved into the metal back of the bus seat in front of him. “What did he say?”

  “Look,” she continued nervously, “sometimes they mean something, sometimes they don’t.”

  The words came out of his mouth almost entirely on their own. He felt them, to his core, before he spoke them. “That’s not entirely true, now, is it?”

  It took her a long time to answer. “No.”

  “I see.”

  “They’ve always meant something. In some way. But . . . you probably think I’m crazy.”

  “No, Maggie, I don’t. I don’t think you’re a mystic and I don’t think you’re crazy. God speaks to each of us in different ways.”

  “I swear, I don’t read tarot cards or sacrifice chickens,” she added with a laugh.

  It was happening again, that sort of out-of-body feeling, as if he’d stepped sideways into a parallel universe. Nervously, he let his eyes comb over the rest of the bus passengers, looking for The Bone Fingered Woman or the girls. Instead, for a brief second, he thought he saw Guero Martinez, on a poorly lit corner that the bus rolled past. Startled, he blinked and he was gone. He cursed his eyes for playing tricks on him and forced himself to reply to Maggie.

  “So? What were the words you dreamed? My Latin’s still pretty good. Yours?”

  Again, she hesitated. “Good enough,” she replied. It was obvious that she still didn’t want to say it.

  “Then let’s have it, young lady.”

  She sighed. “Okay. Tempus est contra eum.”

  He was shocked speechless.

  “You know what that means, right?” she asked, her voice deep with concern.

  “Y-yes,” he said. “I will think on it. Thank you for the call, Maggie, but my bus has reached its stop. I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay, Father. I’ll keep you posted on things.”

  “Please do.”

  He stood as the phone clicked in his ear, then he made his way off the bus. As he began his walk to the metro line, the specter of his cancer again returned, falling in step right next to him as the words that Maggie told him squirmed in his mind.

  “Tempus est contra eum “

  “Time is against him.”

  Hector was very disappointed to see that David Fonseca was not working the door at The Mayan when he arrived.

  After paying the twenty-buck cover, he entered the club at just past 9:00 p.m., Bennie on one side, Chico on the other. The Smiling Midget had decided to come after all and was now walking just ahead, moving from girl to girl and trying to peek up their skirts.

  Hector wanted to get there early, to stake out a good spot near the floor so that when things went down he’d get a chance to see it all. Regardless of the time, a crowd was already inside and growing. But none of that mattered now.

  “What the hell?” he asked, glaring at Chico.

  Chico, who was looking around, didn’t miss a beat. “Easy, boss. It’s okay. He’s right over there, by the bar.”

  They walked over to a standing cocktail table near a pillar covered in thick plaster and painted in Aztec designs, where Hector took up a spot and glanced towards the bar, which was thirty feet away and centered perfectly in the room. Sure enough, David was there, chatting it up with the bartender, a guy with short hair and multiple nose and lip piercings. David was wearing a fitted black shirt, black pants and black shoes. The outfit accented his muscular frame and thick neck.

  “He know what either of you looks like?” Hector asked.

  “Me? Maybe. Bennie? No way,” Chico said.

  The Smiling Midget looked up at Hector. You’re gonna need a few strong drinks in ya to get through what you’re gonna have to do next.

  Hector nodded. “Get the drinks, Bennie.”

  Bennie nodded. “Fair ’nuff. Three Tecates and three shots comin’ up.” When Hector made no comment on the proposed drink order, Bennie walked off to the bar.

  Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Hector looked around the room; it was impressive. The stage was bathed in various hues of orange, which gave way to blues and purples along the walls that led back and up towards the balcony, which was lit in nothing but aqua blue. The bar was a splash of bright red. Overhead, a massive Mayan sculpture, shaped like a giant eye, hung from the domed ceiling, staring down as if God himself were watching.

  Hector waited and watched. Burro was due here by 10:30 p.m. There was still time to relax but that was a fantasy. There’d be no relaxing until the deed was done. He was tapping his fingers on the table when Bennie came back with a waitress and the tray of drinks. She was a tall Latina with long legs and sharp features. “Your boy here says you wanted drinks?”

  Hector shrugged. “Yeah, boo, what of it.”

  “You take one of the tables, you order from a waitress,” she said curtly, turning away his “boo” comment with a mild look of contempt.

  “Sure thing. My bad. Here’s an extra tip for the screw up.”

  She served their drinks and took his generous tip with no gratitude.

  “What’s her problem,” Hector sneered.

  She don’t like serving your kind, The Smiling Midget taunted.

  “Lots of hipsters and glam boys here, jefe,” Chico mumbled.

  “Yeah,” Bennie added for effect.

  You guys got it from here. I’ve got a groove to cut, The Smiling Midget said before he broke into some dance moves and began shuffling towards the dance floor.

  “Hey!” Hector shouted after him, startling Chico and Bennie.

  “What’s up?” Chico asked, confused.

  Embarrassed, Hector shrugged it off. “Nothing, nothing . . .” But his eyes were now locked with those burning marble-eyes of The Smiling Midget. Hector, my boy, real soon now? Your days of seeing red over this bitch will finally be over and you’ll be ready for the big time. You got thi
s! Then, with a chin bob, he disappeared into the crowd.

  Bennie spoke up next. “You all good, boss?”

  “Yeah, man. Just thought I saw somebody I knew,” Hector replied.

  They all downed their shots and then shook them off.

  “Not a lot of other homies up in here tonight,” Chico said.

  “For now,” Hector replied. “But don’t worry. The boss will be here soon.”

  Chico looked surprised. “What?”

  “Yep. Big meetup. That crazy bastard’s coming too.”

  “Who?” Bennie asked.

  “The witch doctor or whatever the hell he thinks he is.”

  Now they both looked stunned.

  When Chico spoke next, he leaned in. “Guero?”

  Hector nodded.

  “Fhit,” Bennie said, before he took a big swig of his beer.

  “Couple other capos too. And their crews. Little Ms. Stick Up Her Ass better get over herself soon, ’cause this place is gonna go street real quick.”

  They all laughed.

  “I might just have to grab her ass to remind her of her place a little later,” Chico said with a sneer.

  “Or you could do it now,” Bennie chuckled. Bouncing his eyebrows like Groucho Marx, he nodded towards David and added, “Bouncer would be over here real quick like.”

  Chico evidently like that idea. “Yeah—”

  “No,” Hector said flatly. “We don’t start no shit until after the meeting. It’ll make us look like amateurs.”

  They both thought about it for a second, then stuck out their chins and nodded in agreement.

  “When they comin’?” Bennie asked.

  Hector took a long pull on his beer before he replied. “Around ten. I imagine when they get here they’ll go up to the VIP section on the balcony.”

  For the next hour, they ordered another two rounds of drinks, swallowing their pride each time as their waitress continued to treat them like street trash. Life. It was funny. From the necks down they were dressed like anyone else in here, but the rest of them gave away their home zip code, and for whatever reason, the princesa who was their drink slave for the night still thought they were beneath her.