Chapter 1
A coyote scampered across the street and disappeared into the bushes as the car’s headlights swept across the dirt parking lot. The vehicle pulled up to the front of the crumbling stucco building, exhaust fumes visible in the wintery desert air. The driver killed the lights, climbed out, and headed up the walk to the entrance, where a red neon sign in the front window flashed “Caliente! – Mexican Eatery.” With each flash, the garish sign fleetingly illuminated the abandoned downtown streets that surrounded the low-rent eatery.
Inside, the place was all but deserted. Pendant lights hung over scattered tables and booths, casting them in pools of dim light that took on a feverish glow whenever the sign’s crimson light pulsed across the room. A waitress met the man at the door, carefully avoiding eye contact as she led him across the room to a table in the far back corner, where an overweight, balding diner in his mid-fifties sat in the shadows, his broad shoulders hunched over a plate of seared meat strips and vegetables. His coat was tossed on the seat beside him. The strobing light gave his polyester shirt a translucent quality, continually revealing the outline of his undershirt beneath. He grabbed a steamed tortilla in one beefy hand, piled it high with meat, peppers, and guacamole, and took a massive bite.
The waitress left without offering the newcomer a drink or bringing him a menu; his demeanor told her he wouldn’t be staying long.
The new arrival, a man in his early forties, with a thick moustache and flat, black eyes, took off his wide-brimmed hat and sat down. He scanned the table, his eyes lingering on the jagged edge of a serrated steak knife that sat just to the side of the dining man’s plate. The teeth glittered as the neon sign flashed on and off.
“How you been, Harvey?” the man asked as his eyes traveled from the knife blade to the sweating man across the table.
The bald man looked up, wiping guacamole from his mouth with his shirtsleeve. “Fine ‘til you got here.” He snatched up the knife and sliced off another chunk of meat, which he pulled from the blade with his teeth. “How did I know they’d be sending you?”
The man watched with disgust as Harvey assembled another messy fajita. The meat’s fatty red juices glistened on the plate as he returned the knife to the table. Just as Harvey was about to take another bite, the man set a thick envelope on the table between them.
Harvey lowered his hands and studied the envelope warily. “What the hell is that?”
“Open it.”
Harvey bit off another mouthful, set the remainder on his plate, and slid it away. The plate clinked against the edge of the knife as Harvey pulled the envelope open and ran his chubby fingers through two thick wads of crisp, clean hundred dollar bills. He thumbed through one of the bundles and looked up.
“It’s a start. I assume there’ll be more where this came from.”
The man shook his head. “One and done, Harvey.”
“They think this will keep me quiet?” Harvey sputtered. “They owe me a whole hell of a lot more than a one-time payment. This is just an insult-”
“They don’t owe you jack-shit. You should be grateful they’re offering you this much. I suggest you take it and keep your fat mouth shut. Or better yet, pocket the money and get the hell out of town.”
Harvey slashed off another piece of meat and shoved it in his mouth. The blade flared in the light as his hand quivered angrily.
“So now you think I should leave town. Listen, son, don’t go giving me advice, okay, because I could squash you.”
“Those days are long gone,” the man said as his eyes again locked on the glint of the blade.
“Don’t forget, I know everything that’s going on here. The folks you’re working for know exactly what it will take to keep me quiet.” His cheeks flushed with anger as his eyes narrowed. “So go back and tell them that unless they want me to take this public, they’re gonna have to meet with me in person and work out another long-term arrangement.” He slammed down the knife and shoved the envelope back across the table. “And you can tell them to keep the chump change. I want a piece of the pie, not some bullshit bribe.”
The man across the table sat quietly, the muscles in his jaw tensing and relaxing as he seemed to consider the demand. Beneath the table, he was quietly pulling leather gloves onto his calloused hands.
Harvey used the lull in conversation to fix himself another messy portion. “Don’t think for a minute that I won’t talk,” he mumbled as he again shoveled food into his mouth.
“Oh, I don’t doubt you, Harvey,” The man said as he calmly slid the envelope into his coat pocket, stood, and pulled on his hat. “The problem is, I was sent here with two options, and accepting a counter-offer wasn’t one of them.”
Harvey glanced up at him from the corner of his eye.
Suddenly, the man grabbed the steak knife in his gloved hand and brought it to Harvey’s throat. The edge of the serrated blade bit into the bulge of Harvey’s sweaty neck. Harvey’s eyes bulged in abject horror as air wheezed from his stunned mouth. Then the blade sank into the flesh of his throat, cutting a path deep into his windpipe. Hot air and burbling blood coursed through the attacker’s gloved fingers as he held the blade tight and sawed deeper and deeper into Harvey’s neck. His other hand was clasped over Harvey’s mouth, pushing his head against the back of the booth. The man stayed that way, stealing a glance over his shoulder at the empty restaurant. Even through the leather, he could feel hot, wet air seeping from Harvey’s mouth. After a moment, he released his grip, dropped the knife onto the seat he’d so recently vacated, and let go of the heavy-set man’s body. Harvey slumped forward, his head bouncing on the table with a sickening thud.
Harvey’s killer pulled the gloves from his hands and slipped them into his pockets, then he turned and walked out of the restaurant, snatching a peppermint from a dish by the register as he headed out the door.
Harvey’s head lay resting on the table. His lifeless eyes stared straight ahead as the red light flashed on and off. On and off. The blood continued to course from the gaping wound in his neck, soaking into the tablecloth and saturating the fabric.
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
