Tequila Sunset

by Sam Hawken

“Sometimes.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  The girl waited a long beat, and then she said, “Yes.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t think I should say.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t want to get him into any trouble.”

  “Is there some reason he would be? Does he know about the drugs you keep in your room?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “You can’t say, or you won’t say?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Cristina put her pencil down and reached across to touch the girl on the arm. “Hey, look at me. Come on, lift your head up. That’s better. Just tell me this: does he know about your drugs?”

  The girl nodded.

  “Does he know where they came from?”

  “I really want to call my mother.”

  “You can call her when we’re finished. Does your boyfriend know where the drugs come from?”

  Another long pause. So long that Cristina thought she’d lost the girl completely. “Yes,” she said at last.

  “Where do they come from?”

  “Should I ask for a lawyer?”

  “Do you want a lawyer?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I tell you what: you want something to drink? I’ll bring you something from the machine. Then we can talk some more.”

  “Okay.”

  Cristina closed up her notebook and tucked it back in her pocket. She left the room, careful not to slam the door. Robinson came from the squad room. “I don’t need you yet,” Cristina said.

  “It’s not that. Someone’s here.”

  They went back to the squad room. Cristina saw McPeek from behind, watching Robinson’s monitor and the video feed from the interview room. The woman turned when they came close. “Cristina,” she said. “How are you?”

  “Working,” Cristina said.

  “Bob was just telling me this girl’s a known Azteca esquina.”

  “That’s right. We have a confidential informant that puts her with Emilio Esperanza, one of José Martinez’s carnales. He also tipped us off to some drugs being held at her house.”

  “If you know whose drugs they are, why don’t you just go after this Esperanza?”

  “We want to keep the integrity of the CI,” Robinson said. “We arrest the girl, get her to give us her boyfriend’s name and then it looks like we connected to him through her.”

  “And then you lean on him to give you something on José.”

  “That’s right.”

  “She doesn’t sound like she’s talking much.”

  “I just got started with her,” Cristina said. “If the soft touch doesn’t work, Bob will take over for a little while.”

  “Put a scare into her,” Robinson said.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Is there something we can do for you?” Cristina asked.

  “Not really. I stopped in to talk with your captain, thank him for allowing your cooperation. That’s all.”

  Cristina searched her pockets. “Bob, do you have a dollar for the machine? I can’t go back without a Coke.”

  “Here.”

  “You can feel free to stay and watch if you want, Agent McPeek,” Cristina said. “I can’t guarantee it’ll be exciting.”

  “I always like to watch professionals work.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Cristina said. She left Robinson and McPeek in the squad room and went to the soda machine for a bottle of Coke. She gave the girl twenty minutes and then she would tell everything. Cristina was willing to set her watch by it.

  EIGHTEEN

  “HOW’D YOU GET MY NAME?”

  “I told you, Emilio: your girlfriend, Alicia.”

  “Alicia wouldn’t rat on me.”

  “Looks like she just did.”

  “I’d smack that fat bitch if she said anything.”

  “Are you threatening her?”

  “No, I’m just saying. Hey, man, what about my car? You just left my car by the side of the road.”

  “It’s been impounded. You can pay to get it when you get out. If you get out.”

  “I’m getting out. My lawyer’ll have me out tomorrow.”

  “What lawyer?”

  “The one I get assigned by the Public Defender.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  “No, you get ahead of this: I’m not saying nothing ’til I talk to a lawyer.”

  “If that’s how you want to do it.”

  “That’s how I want to do it.”

  Cristina left Emilio Esperanza in the interview room and came back to Robinson. She checked the clock. “I’m going to be late. I need to call my sitter. Can you deal with getting asshole a lawyer?”

  “Sure.”

  Cristina called Ashlee and explained that she would be running into some overtime tonight and could she stay longer than usual? It was all right, but Cristina felt badly not being there for Freddie. Ashlee could handle most things, but Freddie could be very particular without meaning to be and he might not get to sleep like he should.

  “Oh, hey,” Robinson said with his hand over the phone, “McPeek asked if you’d call once you reeled in Esperanza. Her number’s on your desk.”

  She called and McPeek picked up right away, as if she had just been waiting for the call. “You wanted to know when we got him,” Cristina said. “We’ve got him.”

  “What’s he charged with?”

  “Possession of a controlled substance with intent to distribute, illegal possession of the firearm we found in his car, conspiracy to distribute a controlled substance and generally being a pinche cabrón. The DA’s office may want to pile on with more charges, but that’s more than enough to hold him for now.”

  “So you’re going to hold him?”

  “We can’t lean on him otherwise.”

  Robinson was talking in the background, his voice a comforting bass mumble. There was no way anyone from the PD’s office would have someone for Esperanza until morning and maybe not even until the afternoon. In the meanwhile they would sit on the man and let him wonder what they knew.

  “I’d like to bring in Madge Crompton from the DEA for this,” McPeek said.

  “What for?”

  “Just to see if we can work the federal angle a little bit. Esperanza might not feel the heat from the locals that much, but he’ll definitely know he’s in trouble if we scale up our offensive.”

  Cristina pushed a pen around on her desk with the tip of her finger. “With all due respect, I’d like to keep this in-house. Our informant, our bust.”

  McPeek was quiet, then she said, “All right, we’ll let it play out. I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page, working for the same thing.”

  “If it’s José Martinez you want, that’s what we want. Everybody wins.”

  “Keep me posted, Cristina.”

  “I will. Good night.”

  She got off the phone at the same time Robinson hung up. The live feed from the interview room was on her screen and Esperanza had his feet up on the other chair, relaxing. The urge to punch the image came and went. “Well?” she asked.

  “He’ll have a lawyer tomorrow,” Robinson said.

  “Good for him. Meanwhile we get to sit on our thumbs. I should have let you go in with him first.”

  “He was going to clam up no matter what,” Robinson said. “You, me, it wouldn’t make a difference.”

  Cristina watched Esperanza. He could have been sleeping. “I dropped the girl’s name on him and he didn’t miss a beat. I hope Flip is covered just in case this comes back at him.”

  “Esperanza talked when he was drinking. He could have told a lot of people.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Listen, why don’t you go home? I’ll do up the reports and we’ll meet back here tomorrow fresh,” Cristina said.

  “You sure? I know you have Freddie to think about.”

  “He’s covered for right now.
Go ahead.”

  “All right,” Robinson said. “Knock yourself out.”

  He got his things and left and Cristina was alone in the squad room. The door to Captain Cokley’s office was closed, the lights out. Cristina cracked her knuckles and turned to the picture of Esperanza. A uniformed cop was in the room now, hooking Esperanza up for an overnight trip to jail. The lockup was right across the street.

  She closed the window.

  NINETEEN

  FLIP WAS FINISHED WITH WORK AND HEADED out to Alfredo’s truck when he saw them parked in the same spot outside the fence as Emilio had used. They waved to him and Flip felt more irritation than concern. They were watching him, but they were doing it so openly that anyone could see.

  He went to the fence and one of the Aztecas came over. “I told José I couldn’t have you guys hanging around here,” Flip said.

  “I’m Nasario.”

  “Nasario, you need to get the fuck out of here.”

  “No, you need to come with me,” Nasario said.

  Alfredo was always the last to the leave the building and there were still workers filing out. There was still time. “I can’t come with you,” Flip said. “I got to go with my boss.”

  “José says you come with me and César. Now.”

  “I can’t—”

  “It’s not a request.”

  Nasario’s expression was flat, his eyes invisible behind sunglasses. Flip thought about saying to hell with it and just walking away, but they would not leave and there would be trouble he was not ready to deal with. “Give me a minute,” he said.

  Flip stopped Alfredo at the door as the older man locked up. “Hey, Flip,” Alfredo said. “Ready to go?”

  “Listen, Alfredo: some friends just came by and want to take me out for some drinks.”

  Alfredo looked past Flip to the fence line and beyond. His expression creased into a frown and Flip saw the disapproval there. But he couldn’t know. “What friends are these?” he asked.

  “Some guys, you know. I met them at a party.”

  “Your mother expects you at home.”

  “Tell her I won’t be too late.”

  “Okay, Flip. Whatever you say.”

  Flip left Alfredo in the lot and crossed the street to where Nasario waited. They opened the back door for him and he got in. As they pulled away, he saw Alfredo talking on his cell phone and he felt remorse. He did not like lying to Alfredo.

  They drove downtown to an apartment complex in a neighborhood Flip didn’t know. He thought they couldn’t be too far from the border here and maybe he could walk home if they’d let him. Nasario led him into the complex with César in tow.

  On the second floor of one of the buildings, facing a courtyard with a pool, they found the right apartment. Nasario knocked twice and the door was opened. Nasario stood aside to let Flip enter ahead of him.

  The apartment was dark, with just the light filtering in through drawn curtains. Flip took one step inside and he knew they were going to kill him. He stopped abruptly, moved back and bumped into Nasario.

  “Hey, what the fuck?” Nasario said.

  “I got to go,” Flip said.

  “Get your ass in there.”

  Nasario pushed him forward and the fear came swelling up again. They would cut his throat or just shoot him in the back of the head with a .22-caliber pistol. They knew and if he did not run, no one would ever find his body.

  There were others in the front room, sitting on a couch and some chairs. All of them were looking at him, looking through him, seeing him dial the cops and tell what he knew. Seeing him snitch.

  The front door was closed. Nasario and César were at his back. Flip’s breathing was shallow and he was sweating. They had to smell it on him, the panic. Nasario bumped him again and he stepped out into the ring of staring eyes.

  “Flip.”

  José’s voice brought him around. José stood at the entrance to the kitchen, a bottle of beer in his hand. He was loose-jointed and relaxed and he smiled. This was the worst part.

  “What’s the matter, Flip, you sick or something?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re pale as shit, man.”

  “I am? I am.”

  “Let me get you a beer.”

  Flip looked around at the others. Some of them had beers of their own and now they went back to talking amongst themselves. There was no more circle of accusation, just Indians talking to other Indians. Flip could breathe again.

  José gave Flip a cold beer with the cap off. “Have a drink. You look like you need it. They must work you extra hard at that warehouse.”

  “Yeah,” Flip said stupidly.

  “Find a seat. We’ll get started in a minute.”

  There was a spot at the end of the couch and Flip squeezed into it. The guy next to him gave him a little nod and some room. Nasario and César stood by the door like they were guarding it. José lingered at the kitchen, nursing his beer.

  After a while there was another knock at the door and Nasario opened it up. Flip saw Emilio step across the threshold with two more Aztecas at his back. Evening light shafted in and dazzled Flip’s eyes.

  “Here he is,” José said.

  The door was closed and the shadows descended again. Flip wondered why they didn’t turn on the lights.

  They pushed Emilio to the center of the room and this time Flip saw what he only imagined before: the probing gazes and the sudden stillness and quiet. Emilio stood up straight, but Flip saw himself standing there and being found out.

  “Okay,” José said. “Time for business.”

  The beer bottles were put away. Flip put his empty hands in his lap. His palms were sweating.

  “Emilio, you know why we’re all here, right?” José asked.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “For those of you guys who didn’t hear: Emilio got popped. They found his stash at his girlfriend’s place. He’s lucky they didn’t remand his ass. Guess the free lawyer worked out this time.”

  Flip found himself chewing his lip. He forced himself to stop.

  “I don’t ask much,” José said, “but you blew it, Emilio. Big time. I got people on the street who depend on you, man. I depended on you.”

  “José, I—”

  “Don’t talk. Listen. The only reason you aren’t taking a ride to Juárez right now is because you kept your mouth shut when the cops asked you questions. You’re dangerous to me, Emilio. You’re dangerous to all of us. You know things.”

  Emilio’s leg trembled. It was only a moment, but Flip saw it. He wondered if any of the others had. If it had been Flip standing there, he didn’t think he could hold it all in like that. His respect for Emilio increased.

  “You’ve been loyal and strong, Emilio, and I honor that about you. That’s why I called this trial. I want you to explain to everybody how you fucked up and how it won’t happen again. Go ahead.”

  Flip waited. Emilio swallowed hard and licked his lips. He caught Flip’s eye in the darkness. “Okay,” he said. “I fucked up. I trusted that bitch Alicia to keep our stuff safe. She must have opened her mouth to somebody because the police didn’t know it was me until she told them. I was real careful, I thought. And I won’t make the same mistakes. I’m gonna teach that bitch to keep her mouth shut and then I’m not gonna let anybody carry my weight for me. From now on I’m watching my own stuff. That way I’ll know who knows what and if they snitch, I’ll kill them myself. I’ll take them down to Juárez and see them burn.”

  Emilio fell silent and José allowed the hush to continue uninterrupted for a long time. Flip fidgeted in his seat. Finally José said, “I want everybody here to make a decision. Does Emilio stay, or does he go?”

  The verdict started at the door and worked its way around the room, every Indian rendering judgment in turn. Stay. Stay. Flip felt the pressure bearing down on him until it was his turn to say something and his mouth was too dry to form words.

  “What do you say, Flip?” José a
sked.

  Emilio watched him.

  “He should stay,” Flip croaked out.

  “Then the decision is made,” José said. “It’s unanimous. He stays.”

  Flip saw all the stiffness go out of Emilio’s spine and Emilio drew a ragged breath. He smiled a little at some of the brothers who congratulated him. There was the sense of something dark having passed over and when José put on the lights even the shadows were chased out of the room.

  When Flip picked up his beer again, his hand shook. He hoped no one would see.

  The gathering turned social and more drinks were brought from the kitchen. Flip didn’t know whose apartment they were in and it didn’t seem to matter. Someone ordered pizza. Emilio fell into conversation with two men Flip thought he might have recognized from the club. It was all so casual. Flip wanted to flee.

  He got up to use the bathroom and found José in his way. “Hey, Flip,” José said, “how’s it going?”

  “Fine, José. How are you?”

  “Better now. Emilio’s one of my best guys. I don’t like to see him in this kind of mess.”

  “He’ll beat the rap.”

  “Maybe. Like you beat the rap?”

  “Some guys aren’t lucky.”

  “Your luck has changed, I think,” José said.

  “You think?”

  “I think.” Flip started to go. José stopped him. “Listen, Flip: I wonder if maybe you and your boss could meet with me sometime. Sometime soon. I’d like to have a word with him.”

  “What about?”

  “Oh, this and that. You think you can set it up?”

  “I don’t want to get him into any trouble.”

  “No trouble, Flip. We’re just going to talk. What, you worried about your job?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Don’t be. I’ll take care of you. Just remember: sometime soon. When you have it all worked out, you call me.”

  “Okay, José.”

  “That’s a good boy.”

  “I got to take a leak.”

  “So go take a leak! Nobody’s stopping you.”

  Flip locked himself into the bathroom and a wave of tremors came crashing over him. His eyes were tearing up. He thought he might be sick. In the end he could barely piss, though he thought it would let go when he first stepped into the apartment. He sat on the edge of the bathtub clutching his hands together trying to will them to be still. Outside in the apartment there was laughter now, as if nothing had happened.