Dragon Fruit Page 26

  The office door opened and Sanchez stepped into the room. ‘Come on, Zarlin. Let’s go.’

  At that moment, I realized there was something else I wanted to say to Wheeler. Call it pig-headedness – I wasn’t going to let it end there.

  ‘What you just said, Wheeler, about me not crossing your path? The same goes for you.’

  ‘Get her the fuck outta here!’

  Sanchez grabbed me by the wrist, and a few seconds later I found myself out in the hall.

  ‘Don’t be so goddamn stupid,’ he said under his breath. ‘You got what you wanted.’ Still gripping my wrist, he moved me down the corridor at a trot.

  The elevator doors closed on us, and he put his mouth to my ear.

  ‘The elevator’s bugged, understand? I’m driving you home. I got one or two things to say to you.’

  I pulled my arm from his grasp. ‘I drove here. I don’t need a lift.’

  ‘Like I said, don’t be stupid.’

  The elevator door opened. Together we walked down the hall to the lobby. Just before Steve Sanchez opened the door to my freedom, he leaned close again.

  ‘Trust me and everything will turn out OK. You’re gonna get in my car, in the backseat.’

  I followed him through the lobby, down the front steps, and around to the police lot in the back. Sanchez clicked open the doors to a dark green Camaro. I halted in my tracks. Was it smart to get in? My experience shouted no.

  ‘There are cameras everywhere, Zarlin, even out here. Don’t make a scene. You and me, we’ll take a drive. After I tell you one or two things I’ll circle back and drop you off at your car.’

  Still, I balked.

  ‘Hey, La Macheesma. Too scared to take a dare?’

  ‘I heard it all. I heard you ask about your brother.’ Steve Sanchez studied me in his rearview mirror.

  I didn’t try to mask my surprise. ‘You have Wheeler’s office bugged?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Do you know what happened to Brodie?’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, I do.’

  We were driving along East Beach. Sanchez turned left and pulled in near the bird refuge, the old estuary. He switched off the engine.

  I stared at the back of his head. ‘Tell me. ’Cause the truth is, when it comes to my brother I’ll never give up.’

  ‘I know.’ He rolled down his window and lit a cigarette with a Zippo before he began.

  ‘Wheeler had three cops beat up your brother. The idea wasn’t to kill him. Just to hurt him, to scare him near to death, so he’d keep his big mouth shut.’

  ‘Because Brodie knew too much.’

  ‘He knew about the smuggling. He’d seen us out at More Mesa, just like that guy you asked Wheeler about.’

  ‘Darren.’

  ‘Yeah. Thing was, your brother was nothing like Hartek. He was more like you – wouldn’t shut up. Kept telling people what he’d seen. Let’s just say, he wasn’t a fan of the police.’

  I felt like a statue – no emotions at all. Just concrete or stone. ‘So they beat him. And something went wrong.’

  ‘They left him there. And your brother, he vomited and choked. Choked to death. So Wheeler, he had them string him up. To make it look like suicide.’

  Everything had gone numb: my mouth, vocal cords, even my brain. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Sylvia.’ Sanchez turned around in the seat to look at me. ‘I love my little sister, you know? I’d kill anybody who hurt her. So I figure I know how it feels.’

  ‘I don’t know how it feels. Right now I can’t feel a thing.’

  Steve turned forward again. ‘No. But you will.’

  I looked out the side window. At that exact moment, a great blue heron lifted up from the far bank of the refuge. ‘Look,’ I said without thinking. ‘Look at that bird.’

  Higher and higher, its great wings stroked the air as it climbed.

  Sanchez started the engine. We remained silent as he drove. When we arrived back at my rental car, he pulled up alongside it.

  ‘The other things you asked Wheeler for? They’ll all happen, I can promise you that.’ He looked at me in the rearview mirror.

  ‘Just for the record, I didn’t know nothing about the kids. No way would I ever allow that, not on my watch.’

  ‘So, why? Why do you do it?’

  ‘What, the drug smuggling?’ He curled his lip. ‘That one’s easy. Been to south Texas? Ever lived in a shack with dirt floors?’

  ‘Were you—’ I stopped. I was afraid to ask.

  ‘What?’

  I broke eye contact. ‘Were you one of the three who beat up my brother?’

  ‘No, I wasn’t. But … I could have been. Yeah. Could have been me.’

  I put a hand on the door. ‘I’m not going to thank you, Sanchez. I don’t owe you a thing.’

  ‘Fine. But you owe my sister. She likes you, Zarlin. She’s the one who told me I needed to help you. And I like to try and give lil sis what she wants.’

  ‘Then you can thank Sylvia for me.’ I opened the car door. ‘Tell her if she ever needs a favor, I’m good for it.’

  ‘I think she’s already got something in mind. A rematch, maybe. Yeah, Hot Wheels told me to say she’ll be in touch.’

  POSTSCRIPT

  Stanford University crashed in flames, and we celebrated the incineration to the hilt following our victory.

  I passed Gabi’s apartment on my way home from the team party. A light was on, but though I was tempted I decided not to stop in. Rosie was spending the night with her Tia Gabi, and it was better if I didn’t interfere.

  I drove up El Balcon and pulled into the car shed. There was no moon, and the shed interior was as dark as the bottom of the sea. I edged out of the shed and stepped into the yard.

  The house was unlit. Mike must have gone to bed.

  I crossed the yard and stood at the bottom of the steps, fumbling for my key. When I opened the door, Dexter was right there waiting for me. He pressed his wet nose against my bare calf.

  I felt along the wall for the switch, then flooded the living room with strong light. I closed the door behind me and stood there for a moment, listening.

  All was still. Just as it should be, I reassured myself. And Dex was wagging his stumpy tail: there was no bad news for him to report.

  No bad news that the heeler was aware of, at least.

  Stop that, I ordered myself.

  For over two weeks, I’d felt a slight touch of dread each time I entered the house. Two weeks and three days. That’s how long Mike had been staying with me.

  He’d been desperate to get away from Trudy and her family: said he couldn’t stand seeing his nephew and nieces feeling sorry for him. But Mike’s own second-floor apartment in Santa Barbara wasn’t an option, not anymore. Not for a guy confined to a chair.

  I busied myself by picking up the bright plastic toys scattered over the living room and tossing them into the basket. I didn’t want to go into the bedroom. I was afraid of Mike’s depression, afraid it would one day drag him away.

  I opened the door into the dark hall. The bedroom door was shut, just as Mike had told me to leave it. I switched on the hall light, took a deep breath, and turned the glass knob.

  ‘Mike? Are you awake?’

  To my relief, he shifted in the bed, then rolled over onto his back. ‘Hi, Jaymie. Did you have a good time?’

  ‘I had a blast.’ The moment I said that, I felt guilty. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I hate that question. I told you, remember?’

  ‘Sorry.’ Then, to change the subject, to make him smile, I began to jabber away in a fake-happy voice.

  ‘We won hands down – those college girls got a lesson! You would have enjoyed it. I wish you’d come along.’

  ‘Turn on the light, will you? I’ve got to sit up.’

  As it happened, I was looking at Mike as I turned on the overhead light. I saw his dull expression change, in an instant, to one of horror.

  �
�Jesus,’ he croaked. ‘What the hell happened to you?’

  ‘Huh? It’s nothing. I thought I cleaned myself up.’

  He was struggling, dragging himself to a sitting position. ‘It’s nothing? You need to go look in the mirror.’

  I fled out of the room to the bathroom. Shit, no wonder I’d given Mike a scare. My bottom lip was swollen to twice its normal size, and my left eye socket was turning an inky blue. Dried blood encrusted my nostrils and spread in a cracked smear across my cheek.

  As I stared at my ghoulish image, I heard a choking sound coming from the bedroom. It grew more frantic. I spun on my heel and ran back to the doorway.

  Mike was bent forward at the waist and he was choking, all right. Choking with laughter, the jerk.

  He looked over at me, and his choking grew louder.

  It was the most beautiful sound in the world.

  Then, just as I joined in, his laughter turned to tears. I climbed into the bed and put my arms around him. Mike began to sob.

  At last he cried, for all he’d lost. I started to cry along with him, and that’s when he started laughing again.

  Dexter jumped up onto the bed and licked our faces. Those poor crazy humans of his!

  At last Mike’s laughter slowed. He wiped his eyes with the sheet and shook his head. ‘Yeah, Jaymie. I can see you had a blast.’

  He looked like he was going to start laughing or crying again. I stopped him with a hard kiss on the mouth.

  When we came up for air, I kept my eye – my one good eye – inches from his. ‘I want you back.’ When he started to answer I interrupted him.

  ‘No, you listen to me. I am so sick of this! I want you back now.’

  ‘You want me back, huh?’ He placed a hand on my cheek. ‘You might as well know the truth. There’s another girl in my life.’

  My heart tumbled down a steep hill and hit bottom. I knew Mike pretty well, and he didn’t look like he was kidding around.

  ‘What, some fucking nurse? That’s a man for you! I guess the saying is true – when guys get old, it’s the nurse or the purse.’

  ‘You’re neither one, that’s for damn sure.’ He had the nerve to laugh. ‘Nope, I’m talking about a bruiser of a girl who tried to twist the nose off my face this morning. She plays a mean game of peek-a-boo.’

  He’d fooled me for a minute, goddamn it! ‘Sorry. The bruiser won’t be back till the morning. Tonight you only have me.’

  ‘Looks like you’ll have to do.’

  ‘Yeah. Looks like I will.’ I couldn’t tell him how happy I was. I’d show him, instead.

  ‘Do me a favor, go wash the blood off your face.’ He gave me a gentle shove. ‘Tell you what – you can leave on those fishnets, though.’