Tequila Sunset (16 page)

“So is this a step up or a step down for you?”

“I like to think of it as a step up. There’s a lot of action happening here. Like I said, border security is a hot topic and Juárez is the hottest spot there is.”

Cristina looked around the restaurant. It was a tourist place, not meant for locals, but there were only Mexicans eating there and very few of those. The festive paint looked as though it could
use a touch-up and there was dust on some of the decorations on the walls. Everywhere there were cutbacks. She turned back to McPeek. “Why don’t you come clean with me, Jamie?”

“About what, Cristina?”

“You’re only in town three months and you already have a favorite restaurant in Juárez. Your task force—”

“Our operation,” McPeek corrected.

“Your
operation
is only six weeks old, but you have Mexican intelligence reaching back I don’t know how far. You know Matías Segura well enough that he brings you coffee. How long have you been on this? For real, this time.”

McPeek forked another bloody hunk of meat into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. She touched a napkin to her lips. “A year,” she said.

“Why all the misdirection?”

“It’s been a year since we got our first tip from the DEA. The rest of the time was spent laying the groundwork for the Mexicans’ cooperation. Plus there was getting all the ducks in a row on our side. I started working with Mark – Special Agent Gorden – last fall as his unofficial replacement. As soon as everything was set up, he went to California and I took over. Then it was just a matter of turning the ignition and seeing if the engine would start.”

McPeek hadn’t answered the question, but Cristina didn’t pursue it. If McPeek wanted to play things close to the chest then that was her prerogative. Cristina moved on to other things: “And did it?”

“Well enough. There are still some wrinkles to iron out, but overall I’m pleased.”

“And El Paso PD, are we one of the wrinkles?”

“Oh, come on, you’re not upset that we didn’t bring you in right away, are you? Because it was only a matter of time. This whole thing operates from the top down and, like it or not, local law enforcement is on the bottom of the totem pole.”

“At least I know where we stand.”

“What you should know is that we came to your captain asking for the best detectives he had to offer and your name came up, along with your partner’s. You ought to be proud of yourselves.”

“I am. I just want to know we’re full partners.”

“I wouldn’t ask you here if you weren’t.” McPeek held Cristina’s gaze from across the table. She offered her hand. “Partners?”

Cristina shook it. “Partners.”

“Now let’s enjoy the rest of our lunch and get out of here.”

TWELVE

F
LIP HAD JUST TAKEN HIS SHOES OFF AFTER
work when his phone rang. It was not Graciela. “Hello?” he said.

“Flip, it’s José.”

“Hey, José, what’s up?”

“I want to send Emilio around to pick you up, bring you to my place.”

“Is this another party? Because I have work tomorrow and I can’t be out late.”

“No party. I want to talk, but not on the phone.”

“Okay, I’m here. Tell Emilio he can pick me up anytime.”

“Keep an eye out for him.”

There would be no time for a soothing shower or even a quick rest on the bed. Flip put his new shoes back on. He found his mother in the kitchen. “I’m going out, Mamá,” he said.

“Again? You’re never home!”

“Come on, Mamá, it’s not so bad. I’m just going to chill at a friend’s house for a little while. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Are you going to see that girl, Graciela?”

“Not today, I don’t think so.”

“Too bad. She seems like a good girl.”

Flip went outside with his basketball and had time to shoot a few hoops before Emilio’s car arrived. He put the ball away and went down to Emilio. “Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Emilio said. “Get in. Let’s go.”

This time Flip paid attention to where they drove and he realized that he could probably make the walk to José’s place without too much difficulty. He was still unsure what José was doing living in a house in Segundo Barrio when there were better places to go with bigger houses and broad, green lawns. It wasn’t up to him to understand.

“You coming in?” Flip asked when they got there.

“No, not right now. I got some errands to run. I’ll swing by to pick you up after.”

“Okay. See you.”

The patio was empty of partyers and the grill was cold. All the party lights had been taken down. José’s Lexus waited under the shelter of the car park. Flip went to the front door and rang the bell.

The door was answered by a tall man Flip hadn’t seen before. The guy wore his shirt untucked, but Flip saw the bulge of a pistol in the front of his pants. When Flip came into the front room there was a second man, also carrying. The television was on.

“I’m here to see José,” Flip said.

“He’s in the kitchen,” the tall man said. “Go through there.”

“I know the way.”

The house seemed bigger without so many people crowded into it. The kitchen table was cleared of punch bowl and tequila bottles. José sat with his back to Flip, playing with a tablet computer. Flip saw cartoon birds being slingshotted into teetering buildings filled with green-faced pigs.

“You goddamned bird!” José exclaimed. He put the computer down, flipped its cover closed, and looked over his shoulder at Flip. “Come and sit down.”

Flip took a seat at the table.

“You want something to drink? Something to eat? I’ve got beer if you want it,” José said.

“No, thanks.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“No, I’m fine.”

José shrugged. “Suit yourself. Maybe next time.”

“Next time, sure.”

“Did you like the party the other night?” José asked.

“Yeah, it was good. Your barbecue is quality.”

“I don’t think the barbecue was your favorite part of the night.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean? I’m talking about Graciela. You hooked up with her, am I right? A little bird told me.”

Flip blushed and looked down to hide it. He remembered José’s familiar touch on Graciela’s back, the easy way he spoke to her. If she had told José, Flip didn’t know how to feel about that. His time with her had been strange and special. “Did she say something?” he asked.

“Graciela? No. She’s not the type to kiss and tell. But a party has a lot of eyes and they see things.”

Flip tried not to blush again. “I like her.”

“Hey, of course you do! She’s a likable girl.” José clapped a hand on Flip’s shoulder. “And don’t worry, it’s not like you have to stop seeing her or anything. If she makes you happy, I say go for it. A man like you, spending time inside, you need a good woman.”

“Yeah, okay,” Flip said.

José leaned back in his chair so he could reach the refrigerator. He fished around with his fingertips and snared a bottle of Dos Equis from the door. The bottle went between them. José twisted the cap off. “Anyway, it isn’t Graciela I wanted to talk to you about,” he said. “I wanted to ask you about something else.”

“Sure, whatever.”

“That warehouse where you work, it gets about how many trucks a day?”

“A couple dozen at least.”

“A lot of them come up from Mexico, is that right?”

“Yeah.”

José took a drink, swished the beer around in his mouth, swallowed. “Any of them stay overnight?”

“No, they come and then they go.”

“Where do the night shipments go?”

“Another warehouse, I guess. We only work days.”

“Okay,” José said. “Okay.”

“Why you want to know for?” Flip asked. “It’s just a job I do.”

“Be patient with me, Flip. I get curious about things and today I’m curious about this. I heard you go to work with the boss.”

“Yeah, he’s my mother’s boyfriend.”

“What’s his name?”

“Alfredo.”

“What’s he like?”

“I don’t know. Nice. Works hard. People like him.”

“Does he make a lot of money?”

Flip shrugged. “What’s a lot of money? It’s not like he’s rich or nothing.”

“I’m just asking, that’s all.”

“He does all right, as far as I can tell.”

José nodded and took another drink. “So he’s an honest kind of guy.”

“I guess. Hey, listen: you got to be careful if you send around people to see me,” Flip said. “My PO, he can visit my work anytime and if he sees me talking to some Indians he could violate me.”

“Are you worried about that? Getting violated?”

“I don’t want to go back to Coffield.”

“I don’t blame you. I tell you what: I’ll make sure if Emilio comes around, he doesn’t bother you any. How’s that?”

“That’s good.”

“You sure I can’t fix something up for you? A plate of anything? I’m not just good at the grill; I can handle myself in this kitchen.”

“No,” Flip said.

“All right,” José said. “I guess that’s all we need to talk about right now. Why don’t you go watch some TV with Angel and Fernando, wait for Emilio to come back?”

Flip stood up. José shook his hand.

THIRTEEN

M
ATÍAS FILLED OUT THE LAST FIELD ON AN
electronic form and clicked SAVE. He waited until his email pinged with a confirmation notice and then got up from his desk. His back was stiff and he rocked back and forth to make it pop.

“Matías.” Lopez was coming, a slip of paper in his hand, his step still uneven.

“I’m quit for the day,” Matías said. “Everything’s done.”

“Felix called. He wants you.”

“Carlos, I just want to go home.”

Lopez handed over the paper. It had an address scrawled on it in red pen. “You go home after you go here. You’re the one Felix wants.”

“What is it?”

“A fire.”

Matías winced inwardly and thought about handing the paper back to Lopez. “I hate those,” he said instead. “Is there nobody else?”

“Of course there are others, but Felix wants
you
. How many times do I have to tell you? So get out there and get it done.”

“All right, but I want credit for this time. Extra hours
at home
.”

“You get paid for overtime just like anyone else,” Lopez replied. “Now get going before the ashes get cold.”

Matías drove southwest to where the city thinned out into scattered buildings and shanties and houses that had never seen better days. Despite the dust he drove with the windows open. He caught the smell of the fire long before he got there.

It was in the back yard of a rundown, two-story home that looked abandoned. There was an empty pen for animals that were long since gone and a shed. Underneath the lengthening shadow of a live oak tree, a fire-pit had been dug twelve feet long and four feet wide.

Two PF vehicles were there and Matías saw six PF agents, including the figure of Felix Rivera. Matías parked away from the PF trucks. The wind shifted as he got out of the car and he was buffeted with another invisible cloud of stench. It was enough to make him want to retch.

There were no longer any open flames, but the mesquite logs in the fire-pit glowed white with heat. Two of the PF agents were working with long-handled shovels, fishing out large black hunks of what looked like charcoal. It was not charcoal.

Felix shook Matías’ hand. “Thanks for coming,” he said.

Someone had laid out white sheets on the dirt and spotty grass and the black hunks went onto the sheets. Matías saw three and assorted pieces. Still more were coming out of the pit.

“Where is forensics?” Matías asked.

“Coming. They’re probably lost.”

“It’s not easy to find. I almost got lost myself.”

“Well, now you’re here.”

“Let’s have a look,” Matías said.

They rounded the fire-pit. The heat coming from it was substantial and Matías felt for the PF agents in their black uniforms, digging in the ashes for more cooked bits. Near the pit were three discarded plastic gasoline cans and a box of matches that had hit the ground and spilled. Away from the property, perhaps ten meters off, there was a thick stand of mesquite trees.

“How many?” Matías asked.

“You can see the three. I think that’s a fourth one there.”

“Who called it in?”

“Anonymous. There’s not a public phone within five kilometers of this place, so it was probably someone on their mobile. We’ll
trace the number, but I don’t have high hopes.”

“They probably called it in themselves,” Matías said.

“Most likely.”

Matías watched as one of the PF men dislodged a heavy chunk of blackened flesh from underneath a bed of roasting mesquite. This one still had a head attached, though the features were burnt into obscurity. When he circled completely around to the sheet, he saw the remains of three torsos and most of five legs. The heads came separately, severed through the neck. One section of arm was only elbow and the flesh immediately above and below the joint.

“They were dismembered first,” Matías remarked.

“At least they didn’t go into the fire alive,” Felix said.

“I’m sure they were very thankful. Goddamn it, where are our forensic people? This whole area should be cordoned off and picked apart centimeter by centimeter. Look for cigarette butts, discarded brass, footprints, anything.”

“They’ll get here.”

“I
hate
fires,” Matías said.

A crosswind blew and the blistering hot coals were fanned into life again. Now that Matías had gotten a chance to grow used to the smell, he was able to pick out the gasoline stink from the overpowering odor of burned human flesh. “I’m sorry I called you out,” Felix said, “but I knew you’d take it seriously. Not like some of the others.”

“Of course I take it seriously,” Matías said. “What other way is there?
Madre de Dios
, it’s the worst goddamned thing in the world. I can almost stand the bodies even when they’re in pieces, but when they burn them…”