The Serpent's Bite (27 page)

“Why this sudden interest in our welfare?” Courtney asked, beginning to harbor dire suspicions about his answer.

“I don't understand,” Scott said, his words barely audible.

“Here is plan,” Tomas said, surprisingly commanding in his tone. He lifted a finger. “You listen.”

“Shouldn't Dad hear this?” Courtney said, looking toward her father's tent. Her fright was palpable.

“You pay me hundred thousand American dollars, you understand what I say?”

Courtney was stunned.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Scott said, raising his voice.

“You listen. You pay me one hundred thousand American dollars. I hear how much money your
padre
got. I take you out of here. You get me money. You understand what I say?”

“You can't be serious,” Courtney said. She looked at her brother. “Where the hell is he coming from?”

“No argue. You brother and sister, right?”

“Oh, Jesus,” Scott sighed.

“You think your father like brother and sister fucking together?”

Courtney felt her knees go weak. Scott's expression clearly showed his reaction.

Tomas's smile broadened. He turned to Scott.

“You fuck your little sister, gringo. Me sure your
padre
no like. Big sin. Very bad.”

His smile became laughter, which turned into a mocking guffaw.

Courtney felt her heartbeat accelerate and bang inside her chest.

“You lousy son of a bitch,” Scott said, starting to move forward. Courtney held him back.

“Don't make it worse, Scott,” Courtney snapped. Her first reaction had been disbelief.

“Could it be worse?” he said, retreating. “We're being blackmailed.”

Her mind was reeling. Internally, she felt physically sickened, fighting nausea.

“His word against ours,” Courtney said, barely managing to find her voice.

“You expect my father to believe what you saw?” Scott pressed.

“I no expect that.” He smiled, showing his gold teeth glinting in the sun. “I got pictures. Mucho pictures. This morning. You fucked good.”

Courtney could barely contain a dry retch.

“Son of a bitch!” Scott cried. “You took Dad's camera.”

He moved forward again. This time he grabbed the Mexican by the shirt. “You show those pictures to anyone—you hear me?—
anyone
, I'll kill you. I promise. I'll kill you.”

“Scott, please,” Courtney cried, trying to get him to disengage. The Mexican looked at him languidly, unafraid, continuing to smile. She felt herself calming. Face the facts, she urged herself. Think!

“Slimy bastard,” Scott mumbled.

“Enough, Scott, please,” Courtney said sharply. Slowly, Scott reluctantly released his hold on the Mexican.

“Remember my words,” Scott said, pausing. “Hombre.”

Courtney felt herself calming, her mind groping for a way to handle this. Dad would know how, she thought suddenly. The irony felt bitter. There was no Daddy solution available here. She and Scott were on their own. We're in deep shit, she cried to herself, repressing a hysterical giggle.

“If you really listened to our discussion, Tomas,” she said, finding her voice again, “then you know we're both broke and won't be getting any money from our father until he makes arrangements.”

“Si
. I listen. I understand. You think I dumb Mexican?”

“It might take time. I can't tell you how long.”

Tomas did not respond for a moment, obviously turning over all possibilities. Their father had said he would make the arrangements as soon as he got home. Tomas had heard.

“I figure deal this way. You got cash now. I take. Then after, you find way to get me one hundred thousand from
padre
.” He tapped his ear. “I hear.”

“This is crazy,” Scott said. “We can't guarantee that.”

“I patient wetback,” the Mexican said, smiling.

“Scott's right,” Courtney said.

“Your problem,” the Mexican muttered. “You find way. I got pictures. You give me lump sum or in pieces. You no pay, I show
padre
.”

Courtney had read enough movie scripts to know that she and her brother were clearly in a “double bind” plot device. The Mexican held the whip hand. He had stumbled over his main chance. Exposure was likely to shock their father into banishing any idea of coming across with his promised largesse, despite his professed love for his children. For him what they had done was beyond the pale.

On the other hand, they might confess and opt for his forgiveness. They would be betting on his sense of fatherhood and sentimental nostalgia—a long shot. Other scenarios crossed her mind. He would have the camera in his possession, and they
were still in the wilderness about to traverse the most dangerous mountain trail in Yellowstone. She shot a glance at Scott. Was he having the same thoughts?

She had met many people like Tomas in her lifetime, cunning, street-smart, living on the edge. He had already proven his ingenuity. She felt seriously challenged by the danger Tomas posed.

“Suppose our father changes his mind about the money?” Courtney asked.

“He could do that,” Scott chimed in, as if his sister's question was a hopeful sign.

“Then there is the question of time. It will take time for him to provide the money.”

“Amigos,” Tomas chuckled. “I Mexican.
Cuándo
you give me money, I give you camera.”

He makes it sound so reasonable, so easy, Courtney thought. Their father had indicated he was going to make provisions, but they had not talked amounts or frequency. Only when he died could they expect the kind of money that Tomas was asking.

“I don't think we can deliver,” Courtney said. “I think you misunderstand, Tomas. Getting our hands on that kind of money in a lump sum would be near impossible.”

“She's right, Tomas.”

“Your problem children,” Tomas said, mimicking their father.

“It's impossible,” Scott mumbled.

Tomas spat into the ground.

“Fuck you both,” Tomas said chuckling, showing the glint of gold teeth. “We leave tomorrow before light. You tell
padre
.”

“He might not agree,” Courtney said. “It would certainly bother him to leave Harry alone and drunk in the wilderness.”

“You make him, Señorita. He your
padre
.”

“We can't make him do anything against his will,” Scott said.

“He's right, Tomas. He could say no.”

“He say no, I show him pictures.”

It was, of course, a viable threat, although Tomas would gain nothing by such a revelation. Of course, she was certain that she and Scott would lose everything as well. Their father would be appalled, of course, certainly shocked and stunned by the evidence.

An incestuous relationship on the part of his children would be too difficult for him to accept. Any largesse on his part, she speculated, would be over. Such conduct would be unacceptable to him, offensive, and forever mark them as evil, bad seeds. She had no doubt that they would be written out of the will, forever alienated.

It was clear that she was dealing with someone shrewd and calculating, hardly a stereotype of the dumb, exploited Mexican. This was one sinister and canny bastard. Worse, he had nothing to lose.

She tried to assemble her thoughts, searching for how to cope with this. Scott, too, must be turning over different scenarios, perhaps featuring violence. He had already threatened murder. Nor did she dismiss such an option offhand.

“A hundred thousand dollars,” Courtney said. “Seems like a bit much.”

“Are you actually bargaining with this bastard?”

Courtney ignored the comment.

“This is business, Scott,” Courtney said, turning again to Tomas. “Say half. Fifty thou.” Courtney said. “Be realistic, amigo.”

“I no bargain,” Tomas said, shaking his head. “I go back to Mexico rich man. No more bullshit from gringos. No more curse from Harry. He thinks I ‘fraid he send me back. With hundred thousand American, I go back rich. I no care about you people. You all crazy, greedy bastards.” He poked a finger into Scott's chest. “Now you get me my money. Hundred thousand American. No less.”

“That's a new one on me,” Scott snickered. “A Mexican that doesn't bargain.”

“One hundred thousand American,” the Mexican persisted. “I take you out of here. You give me money. I give you camera with pictures. I wait no more than month.”

“And if we don't agree?” Scott asked.

“Leave it alone, Scott,” Courtney said. “He's got us by the balls.”

The Mexican watched them for a long moment with feral eyes and then smiled broadly.

“Si, amigos
. I got you by cojones.” He illustrated by cupping his hands over his genitals. “I not stupid,” he said. “You give me trouble, I give camera back to your father …” He smiled as if he enjoyed the repetition. “With pictures.” He looked at Courtney with contempt. “You good fucker, lady,” he said. “Maybe you give me some.”

“You'd have to kill me first, amigo,” Courtney said, staring into the Mexican's eyes.

Her comment had a suggestive ring to it. Then her mind filled with possibilities and assumptions. She knew, of course,
that he was reacting to his own version of desperation, gambling on their vulnerability, seizing an opportunity that presented itself by chance.

To accept his terms, they would have to live with the possibility of more blackmail money for years until their father was gone. Then it would no longer matter. She allowed herself to contemplate other options. Old movie revenge plots unreeled in her imagination. An errant image saw him with his genitals sliced off and stuck in his mouth. She giggled then met his gaze and returned his smile.

“Now you go. We meet at dawn near horses. We take one mule for gear.”

“Suppose our father won't go?” Scott said.

“You make him,” Tomas said.

He turned and then turned again to face them.

“You don't fuck me, we be all okay. You fuck me, I fuck you.”

“Not to worry, Tomas,” Courtney said, thinking,
Not unless we fuck you first
.

“What if Harry wakes up?” Scott said, exchanging glances with Courtney.

Tomas shrugged, turned, and walked back in the direction of the camp.

He stared at them for a long moment as if he were assessing their commitment. Then he turned and walked toward the horses.

The two siblings walked back to camp in silence.

C
onvincing their father to leave camp under Tomas's guidance and without Harry proved to be a tough task.

“We can't do that to Harry, leave him drunk out here by himself,” their father protested. He was still half asleep. “I'm not comfortable with the idea.”

“It's not a question of comfort, Dad,” Courtney argued, but with careful tact. “The man can't function. There's plenty of food, and he does know the way back. He'll have his horse and the mules, and we'll be back in a day. Harry will be fine. Once he gets off his bender, he'll understand and find his way back. This is, after all, his turf.”

“The least we could do is wait and try to reason with him.”

“Dad,” Courtney persisted. “You can't reason with a drunk, especially one on a bender. He can't function, and any hopes of him miraculously sobering up won't wash. We're at risk here, and we had better recognize it.”

“Let me think about it.”

“No,” Courtney pressed. “We have to leave by dawn. Tomas has prepared everything. We have to sneak out of here while Harry is sleeping it off.”

She shot a glance at her brother.

“I'm scared of this man, Dad. We have no choice. He could be leading us into danger. Tomas says he can get us back to the trailhead in a day. He's taking us over Eagle Pass.”

“Eagle Pass?” Temple was stunned. “Talk about dangerous. Remember your Mom's experience?”

“It's the fastest way out of here,” Courtney said. “Please, Dad. We're not hurting Harry. Hell, he'll be glad to get rid of us.”

Temple grew silent, obviously contemplating a response.

“And Tomas is fed up with his treatment,” Courtney pushed, appealing now to her father's feeling for the so-called underdog. “He has been abused terribly by this man, especially in his drunken state. And he has agreed to take us for the cash we have. How can you beat that? Please, Dad. Scott is scared. So am I. And we worry about you.”

“Dad,” Scott said, trying to hide his impatience. “The man has not fulfilled his obligation to us. He's been downright nasty and insulting. He doesn't deserve any consideration.”

“Harry will be fine, Dad,” Courtney pressed. “He's been paid. We've got to think of ourselves.”

Scott watched his father's face, a beacon of indecision.