Saint (32 page)

Now if he could only get this fucking pain
in his leg backed off to a tolerable level.

He snorted as he flicked the TV off.
Christ! Men who wanted to be spanked. Pitiful.

* * * * *

“Should I kill you now, or do you have
something interesting to say?” Benito Juarez asked politely, dragging
indolently on his cigarillo.

“Maybe,” Gabriel allowed, twisting suddenly
into the two men who held him from behind, first breaking one’s nose, then the
other’s arm. “My dog’s house has better security than this joint. No wonder
Hocksteder has you on a short leash.”

“I know no one named Hocksteder.” Benito
waved off the stumbling steroid twins who were clutching nose and injured
appendage as they reached for their guns.

“Really?” Gabe dropped onto the white
leather couch and propped his boots on the glass table. “Then I guess I sat out
on that hillside all afternoon for nothing. Now I’ll have to go around and
collect my goodies. I hate to waste good explosives, they’re not cheap, you
know.”

“You expect me to believe you managed to
slip into this compound, set a bomb, then sat out on the hillside waiting to be
discovered?”

“
A
bomb?” Gabe reached for a mint and popped it into his mouth. “Hell,
if it was just one, I wouldn’t bother. You could keep it. In fact,” he said
thoughtfully, “you can keep them all. No skin off my nose. Just thought you’d
rather cut a deal and live. Obviously, I was wrong.”

“I do not make deals with…what do you
Americanos
say? A snitch. A gopher.”

“Suit yourself, partner.” Gabe rose to his
feet and headed for the door. “I get paid either way.”

Juarez waited until he was to the door
before phrasing the question, “If I were to believe this story of yours about
the bombs, what would you demand in return?”

“Seeing as you don’t know anyone named
Hocksteder, I can’t see it makes much difference.” Gabe saw the glittering of
suspicion in Benito’s dark eyes. Oh yeah, the greaser was pissed that
Hocksteder was supposedly trying to remove him from the equation. By a gopher,
no less. A gopher who knew his way around explosives. Now to move in for the
kill.

“Naturally, I’ll require proof these
devices exist. If not, then you’ll spend the rest of the evening digging your
grave.”

The house shuddered, startling the both of
them for an instant. Gabe, however, wasn’t nearly as surprised as the wide-eyed
Benito. He winced in mock disappointment. “Guess that one was a little more
sensitive than I thought. My guess would be your pool is a cascading waterfall
down the side of the mountain about now.”

Outrage contorted Benito’s face, but he
knew now Gabe wasn’t bluffing. “What did you have in mind?”

He took his seat again. “Let’s have a drink
and discuss it, shall we?”

* * * * *

Francis wasn’t pleased with the way things
were progressing. Once she was forced to decide between leaving Bethy with him
and Joan for the evening or making a trip to the bank, Lolita became
miraculously sick and spent most of the night with her head in the toilet,
finally seeking her bed sometime after three a.m.

He checked his watch. Nine a.m. and Gabe
wasn’t back yet.

“Any of the girls at Calypso’s hook on the
side?” he asked Lolita when she emerged from her room sometime later.

“I make enough money, I don’t have to
resort to lying beneath sweaty morons,” she replied, her tone indignant.

“I wasn’t referring to you, Red. Any man in
his right mind can see you have class. What about the others?”

“Some. Why?”

“The little Asian girl, by any chance?”

“Now and then,” she admitted, dragging on
her cigarette as she sipped at the mug of coffee in her hand.

“Get me her address.”

When Francis arrived at the poor excuse for
an apartment complex, he let himself in quietly. No sense waking the neighbors.
More than likely he’d just end up with some asshole’s gun stuck up his nose and
the tough guy who put it there would suffer for no other reason than he wasn’t
in a good mood.

Muffy was just sliding from her bed when he
found them. She squealed and jumped to grab for a robe to use as covering. “Who—who
the hell are you?”

Gabe lay sprawled on the bed, naked,
snoring like there was no tomorrow. Around his nostrils were traces of white
powder. Shit. A quick glance around the room revealed silk scarves tied to the
posts of the bed and a discarded belt—Gabe’s—on the floor. Lacy socks, a short
plaid skirt and ruffled underwear were scattered across the bed and around the
room. A pair of black patent-leather shoes gleamed in the corner.

The girl looked no worse for wear but he
asked anyway. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Then get your ass in the kitchen and make
a pot of coffee. Strong and black. Now,” he added tersely when she showed no
inclination to move.

She tied the belt on her dragon-covered
robe and scooted warily past him to run down the hall.

Francis blew out a disgusted breath and
dragged the unconscious Gabe from bed.

Cold water brought the sleeping beauty
awake with a roar. “Shiiiit, that’s cold!”

“Shut up, you stupid hick. It’s bad enough
you contributed to the ruination of that girl’s immortal soul.” Francis left
the bathroom long enough to get the coffee and tell Muffy everything was under
control and they’d be out of her hair in no time.

He shoved the coffee into Gabe’s inebriated
hand. “Drink.”

Gabe took a swallow, hanging his head in
despair, oblivious now to the chilling spray. “My wife’s going to leave me,
Francis. But Jesus, it was so damn good.”

“I’ve got a tea-drinking five-year-old and
a stubborn stripper on my hands, not to mention Joan’s about to break. And now
you make me come after you. So ask me if I care, Gabe. If she were smart, she
would have left you a long time ago. Juarez fucked you up didn’t he? You gave
in to the temptation.”

“Not the drugs, you ass. The sex. You think
after all these years I don’t know how to fake a snort? Christ, my head hurts.”

“Nice try, Gabe, but you still have candy
powder stuck in your nose and your eyes look like two pee holes in a snow bank.
You’d better hope Joan’s too busy playing Uncle Remus to notice.”

“Cost of doing business with a drug lord.”
Gabe drained the cup and handed it back, readjusting the water temperature.

“You’re a sick bastard, you know that?”

“Why don’t you go terrorize somebody who
gives a shit about your opinion, Father.” The last word was nothing more than a
sneer.

Francis yanked a towel from the rack and
threw it at him. “Is that the only way you can get your rocks off now? You
should go on a talk show. The pathetic fucks who like to get spanked through
diapers haven’t got a thing on you.”

Gabe caught it, regarding him silently for
a moment before saying, “At least I can still get it up.” Then, cursing beneath
his breath, “You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Forget it.” He shrugged it off.

“I guess we all have our little quirks,
huh?”

“Thing is, you can do something about
yours. You love your wife, Gabe?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I
love her.”

“Then don’t let her leave. She’s your
salvation.”

“Who’s yours, Francis?”

“The singing nun.” He flashed a grin,
leaving Gabe to gather his clothes and went to check that the girl hadn’t done
anything stupid, like call the cops. Walking straight to the window, he pulled
back the dark film of curtains to check out the parking lot and surrounding
area. “Everything looks cool. Let’s move.”

Gabe took a minute to speak with the
frightened young girl, then followed him out of the apartment. “You know what,
Francis?”

“What?”

“I feel so good today, I’m gonna let you
drive.”

“You’re all heart, Gabe.”

* * * * *

Joan cracked sooner than expected.

When they arrived back at Lolita’s, they
found her tied to one of the kitchen chairs, gagged with a pair of her own
panties, duct tape over her mouth.

She struggled against the bonds, her eyes
rolling wildly one minute, narrowing with outrage the next.

“This is going to hurt you more than it
will me,” Gabe warned just before ripping the tape from her face with one swift
motion. He extracted the panties from her mouth, a less than gentle maneuver
that only added to her rage.

“Get these ropes off me! That son of a bitch
madman kidnapped Bethy.” She jumped to her feet the minute the constricting
bonds were loosened, rubbing at her wrists.

“Calm down and tell us what happened,”
Francis instructed.

She waved a manicured nail in warning. “I’ve
had about all the crap I’m gonna take off you three losers. Maria would never
have sent three fuckups like you to look after a child. I wouldn’t send either
of you to the corner store for a paper.”

“Cut the hysterics and tell us where Joan
is,” Gabe snarled.

“I told you, he’s gone.”

“Gone where?”

“Said he was going home, wherever the hell
that is.” She rummaged through the liquor cabinet and poured herself a stiff
drink with shaking hands.

Francis took the glass from her before she
could take the first swallow. “Not now. He’s got a head start on us. Pack a
bag, we’re leaving.”

“I’m not going anywhere you guys. Damn!”
Her palm smacked against the counter. “I was this close to getting all my debts
paid off and actually being able to live a normal life again. Then you three
had to show up and ruin everything. Thanks to you and your macho sidekick
morons, my boss fired me for missing work last night.”

“He can’t do that.”

“It’s a strip joint, he can do any damn
thing he wants.” She dropped her head into her hand, groaning, “What am I going
to tell Maria? I promised to keep Bethy safe.”

“Right now, Bethy’s better protected than
the Pope, honey,” Francis assured her. “Joan would die before letting any harm
come to her. If he left, it was only because he thought she was in danger.
Lucky for you he decided you didn’t need killing for your part in it. He can be
unreasonable at times. Now hand over the safety deposit box key and let’s get
on the road. We’ve been here too long as it is.”

Lolita squeezed her eyes shut, torn between
the promise she’d made to Maria and terrified she was making yet another
mistake by giving them what they were after. To be fair, they hadn’t tried to
strong-arm her in the physical sense, and she was no one to cast stones, but… “It’s
in the bread box,” she sighed in defeat. All her hard work, all the years of
preening her ample body parts at leering wannabe men in smoke-filled rooms,
headed straight down the toilet.

“The bread box?” Gabe repeated
incredulously. “What kind of person keeps a safety deposit key in a breadbox?”

“What kind of person looks through a moldy
bag of bread to find one?” she shot back.

“I see what you mean.” Francis leaned back
as he sifted through the hardened green and black slices. “Got it.” He set the
key on the counter and washed his hands. “Okay, boys and girls, it’s showtime.”

“Say, Lolita.” Gabe hesitated at her side
when Francis left the kitchen to gather his things. “Just how far in debt are
you?”

“Thanks to my poor excuse for an
ex-husband? Still ten grand. And that will only get me back to the starting
point.”

Gabe considered her words for a moment,
then went into the living room, picked up his bag and brought it back, dropping
it at her feet. “Don’t get the idea I like you, or anything. I only commit
random acts of kindness once every couple of years or so. That should be enough
to get you out of the red.”

She eyed him suspiciously, squatting to
open the bag. Her eyes almost bugged out of her head. The bag was filled with
money. “I-I don’t know what to say. What’s the catch?”

“You don’t have to go around telling
everyone.” He turned his back on her and walked away. “Nobody I know would
believe it anyway.”

Lolita quickly zipped the bag shut when
Francis came back down the hall.

“Ready?”

“Won’t take me but just a few minutes.” She
smiled, slinging the bag over her shoulder as she headed to the bedroom.

“What’s in the bag?” she heard him ask
Gabe.

“Just a little souvenir I picked up at
Juarez’s. Nothing you’d be interested in.”

“What, you’re a klepto now?”

“I figure I earned a token or two. Call it
compensation for losing all my formerly intact nose hair.”

Chapter Fourteen

Mississippi

She intended to ignore him for the duration
of their stay in the rundown mansion. Seth only allowed it for two days.

He came to her room that evening, where she
was holed up reading a book she’d found on one of the living room shelves.