Muerte Con Carne (15 page)

He pushed away from the table and jogged into the store. The old man at the counter started when Felix burst in, put his hands up and smirked.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa there. What’s this all about?” The man wore an old trucker’s hat with a red bill, and his gnarled hands looked oil-stained.

“The taco trailer. Where the hell is it?” Felix didn’t realize he was crying until the snot dripping from his nose oozed over his lips. He wiped his face, took a long deep, rattling breath.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, boy. Scared me half to death runnin’ up in here like that-”

“Just tell me where it is!”
Felix slammed his knuckles onto the counter, nearly catching the man’s hand. “Please…it’s an emergency.”

Whatever smirk the man had worn only a second before was gone, and he straightened his posture and widened his nostrils, flicked the bill of his cap. “Now you wait just a goddamn second there, boy. I don’t know what in the hell this is about, and you runnin’ up in my store like you wanna do sumpin’ to me.”

“No, I mean…I’m sorry. A friend of mine, she could be in trouble. She
is
in trouble.”

“And what in the hell does that have to do with the food truck?”

“That man, he took her. The same son of a bitch that pulled a knife on me just yesterday. He’s got her and…oh god!” More tears came now and Felix covered his face, tilted his head back, and screamed into his hands.

“You tellin’ me ol’ Cristobal and Alma got your friend kidnapped? Nah, not them, boy. You got your shit all mixed up.”

Felix stomped forward, and before he had a chance to slam his fists to the counter again, the old man pulled a pistol out from under the register and had it pointed at the middle of Felix’s face.

“I’m thinkin’ you should leave, boy.”

***

The sun was like an open flame, licking her flesh with heat as she ran across the dirt yard and toward the pickup. She checked over her shoulder and Gustavo burst through the door. Blood trickled from the four prong wounds on his shoulder. The crotch of his blue spandex pants was dark with grease where the food had spilled.

The wrestler smashed his fist into the side of his head, then again as he snarled at her. He raised both fists into the air and circled in place, slapped both pectoral muscles with open palms, then lowered his head and charged her.

“No!” Marta reached the truck and tugged on the door handle with her injured hand but had no time to register the pain as the door pulled open and she dove into the driver’s seat and slammed the door and locked it.

No keys. Her hand leaked fresh blood into the hardened towel wrapped around it, and it dripped onto her bruised shin.

Gustavo slammed his body into the driver’s door like a parading rhino. The truck shook, tossing Marta into the center console.

She flipped down the sun visor, checked the floorboards, under the seats, popped open the glove compartment. No keys.

“Shit! Shitshitshitshit!”

Gustavo rattled the door, then threw his shoulder into it again. It felt like he could roll the goddamn thing over if he wanted to.

“Leave me alone! Get away!”
Marta scooted into the passenger seat, reached over her shoulder and locked the door.

Gustavo pressed his face into the glass of the driver’s door window, his breath fogging it, drool running down in clear, bubbly trails. He cocked his head back, his face blurring through the haze he’d created on the glass, and then his head smashed into the window.

Marta screamed, winced at the slitting pain in her throat.

The glass beaded up, frosted, and now Gustavo was nothing more than a blue blur. His head smashed into the glass again, breaking through, and he shoved his face through it, glaring at Marta with wide eyes, his teeth bared and bloody. He roared, misting blood over Marta’s legs.

She reared her foot back and slammed it into his face, the heel of her shoe smashing his nose and chin. Gustavo absorbed the blows like a tree trunk, didn’t even turn his head as he continued to push his face past the shattered safety glass.

He yanked his head out, reached in and unlocked the door. The door was nearly thrown off the truck when he swung it open and reached for her.

“No! Please…p-please no!
Ahhhh!
”

She pummeled him with kicks, and more blood flowed from his head and face, but he never slowed. His callused, rough hand grabbed her by the calf, and he dragged her back toward the house in a cloud of dust.

***

Felix lifted his hands to ear level, palms out, and shook his head. “I don’t mean to shout and I’m not looking for any trouble with you. Those people. The ones that run that trailer…they got my friend. I’ve got proof, and I just want to find her. Please, you have to help me.”

“I told you, boy. Cristobal and Alma, they’re good people. Been sellin’ food here on my lot for years, never caused me no trouble. I known that family a helluva lot longer than I known you. Now get the fuck off my property before I blow your nose to the backa yer head.”

Felix felt like his head would pop from the pressure. His hands shook and he backed toward the door, but he knew this man knew something. He could help, but it was clear he had no intention of doing so. Felix spoke through his bared teeth. “You don’t understand. I’ve seen it. They…they-”

“Put the gun down, Burl. I got it.”

Felix was actually relieved to hear the sheriff’s voice, but when his arm was twisted behind his back and the cuff was locked over his wrist, he tensed up, tried to spin and face the man. “What are you-”

“Don’t fight me, son. Don’t you dare.” The sheriff grabbed hold of Felix’s other arm and twisted it behind his back, snapped the cuffs shut. He led him out of the store and into the sun’s brutal rays.

“Sheriff, please. My friend, she’s in trouble.
We have to help her!
”

“Your friend, huh? Thought she was your wife.”

“She’s not…it doesn’t matter! I’ve got video, I can show you. They fucking kidnapped her!”

“What’d I tell you, son? Told you if I caught any more shit from you, if I had to haul my ass back into this shit hole, I’d haul you off. And that’s just what I mean to do.” He slammed Felix stomach-first into the patrol car, spread Felix’s legs and started patting him down. “You got any weapons or drugs on you, best tell me now.”

Felix grunted in frustration, but kept his calm as best he could. “Just let me show you the video. You’ll see, and then you have to help me find her. That goddamn bastard that pulled a knife on me, he’s got her. Shit…god only knows what he’s doing to her.”

The sheriff patted Felix’s ankles, and when he stood, his face was beat read and sweat-glazed. The sores on his lips glowed pink. “What’s this about a video? I’m not followin’ you, son.”

“I’ll show you. At the motel. I…oh god. I love her, sir. I love her and if anything happens to her I’ll fucking die.” Heavy sobs filled his face, and he leaned over and rested his head on the car’s roof as they took over.

“Goddamnit.” The sheriff opened the back passenger door, then ushered Felix inside.

“No! You can’t do this…just let me show you. Please, just let-
”

“Stop your damn yelling, all right? We’ll make a stop at the motel. Tell me, son, if your friend is in trouble like you say, how in the hell do you have a video of this?”

Felix told him everything. The sheriff shook his head and casted continuous backward scolding glances at Felix as they made the short drive to the motel.

“And it’s no goddamn wonder she goes missin’. Messin’ around out there? My god, you kids are stupid. Just plain fuckin’ stupid comin’ out here for this shit.”

“I know. It was a mistake. I tried to tell her but she wouldn’t listen, was too fucking stubborn to listen to reason…” He stopped himself as his anger reached a boiling point. Took a breath as they parked just outside of the front office. “We had a fight. She went off on her own without me…and now…”

The sheriff stepped out of the car, opened Felix’s door, spun him around, and uncuffed him. “Don’t do anything stupid, you got me? Take me to your room and let’s see what in the hell this is all about.”

The sheriff took his time following Felix up the stairs. Felix struggled to catch his breath as he stormed toward the room.

Marta’s door still hung open, and the second he stepped over the threshold, his heart got to hammering, his palms sweating.

Maybe the sheriff knows where these bastards live. We can go there straight from here, get Marta the hell out of there.

But Felix stopped short of the bed. The laptop was gone.

“Wait…my computer is…no. Oh hell no!”

He ran in circles around the room, searching every nook and cranny but found nothing. The sheriff had his arms crossed over his bulbous belly, his eyes narrow slits that burned twin holes in Felix’s face.

“Sheriff, I’m not bullshitting you. I was telling the truth! It was…it was that fucking asshole down at the desk. He heard the screams…he, he unlocked the door for me because he heard them.”

“Look. I don’t know what you kids are tryin’ to pull here, but-”

“Trying to pull? What could I possibly gain from this? My laptop was sitting right here on this bed. That bastard saw it, knew it was in here, and he took it. I’m telling you, there’s no other explanation.”

“Why would he do that?” The sheriff’s tone was like a teacher scolding a kindergartener.

“I don’t know! Because he fucking hates my guts maybe? And I think he’s got cameras in his room. I can’t prove that, but I’m telling you, he was watching us, when we were…”

“When you were what, son?”

Felix threw his hands in the air. “It doesn’t matter, okay? Please, can we just go talk to him? If he took it, for whatever reason, he doesn’t realize what’s on it. Maybe if you tell him-”

“Tell him what? I ain’t seen none of this footage you say you got.”

“Please, Sheriff.
They have her right now!
” Felix nearly told him about the giant Lucha Libre he saw in the video, but held that back. His story was crazy enough, and now he’d already threw in his suspicions of cameras in the motel rooms. He knew the sheriff probably thought he was some out-of-towner, paranoid lunatic, and he didn’t want to add that Rey Mysterio with gigantism was holding Marta captive. “Please, sir. I’m begging you.”

The sheriff’s lip curled and he wiped the sweat from his brow, then nodded toward the door. “Come on, then.”

Felix jogged past the sheriff and down the stairs. He blew into the office and growled when he saw him.

The man sucked on a flat, peppered piece of jerky and was leaned up against the counter staring down at a Lusty Latina magazine laid flat beneath him. When Felix burst in, the bell exploding with violent jingles above him, the man flinched, gave a half smile. When the sheriff followed behind, the man folded his magazine up and tossed it somewhere under him, stood up a little straighter.

“What’s this about, Sheriff? Ain’t you gonna lock this prick up? After everything he done?” The man’s jaw was slightly swollen from where Felix had hit him, but not much. He rubbed the bruised spot as his eyes bounced from the sheriff to Felix.

“Look, Lindsey. The man says he had a laptop in his room and now it’s gone. If you-”

“Are you accusin’ me of takin’ it? I don’t have his fuckin’ laptop.”

Felix held his breath to calm his shaking body. His fingertips dug into his palms as he stared at this Lindsey. The name didn’t fit the fat jerky-sucking pig in front of him.

“The man says his friend was kidnapped. Says there’s something on that laptop that can help find her. So if you got it, and I’m not sayin’ you do, but if you might know where it is, a woman’s life may depend on us getting it back, you got me?”

Felix stepped forward, softened his face. “You can keep the laptop. Just let me show the sheriff the video, okay? After that, it’s yours.”

Linsey’s face burned maroon, and he seemed to be thinking over his options as he chewed the end of his jerky strip. Then he shook his head. “I told you, I ain’t got yer fuckin’ laptop.”

The sheriff exhaled through his nose, stood there for a minute studying the man.

“Sheriff, I ain’t got it. Okay? Shit, I thought you was comin’ out here to help me, not accuse me of shit. This asshole’s tryin’ to get back at me, that’s all this is. Can’t you see that?”

“You evil motherfucker! You know you have it…
You’re helping them kill her, you fucking bastard!
” Felix started to charge the man, but the sheriff caught him, wrapped his arms around Felix’s chest.

Lindsey snorted, snickered. He spat on his own floor and pointed at Felix, his eyes on the sheriff. “Get his ass outta my office. I want a restraining order against this asshole.”

Felix fought the sheriff’s grip for a minute, but was dragged backward and out the door. The sheriff released him, but stood in front of the door and put one hand to his pistol.

“You know he’s lying. I know you saw it in his face.” Felix paced back and forth in front of the door, trying to catch a glimpse of Lindsey over the sheriff’s shoulders.

“What I think don’t mean shit, son. I have no proof to back up anything you’ve told me. But I’m gonna do you a favor. I’m gonna let you drive on outta here.”

“What? You…you’re not going to help me? Marta, she’s probably fucking raped, maybe dead by now, and you aren’t going to do shit about it?”

“What I’m gonna do is let you get in your car and drive outta here. And that’s exactly what you’re gonna do. This whole business is giving me a headache and pissing me off, and I should toss you in the back of the car and take you in, but I’m tryin’ to cut you some slack here.”

Felix turned his back on the sheriff, stared out into the vast desert. He wanted to scream Marta’s name, but instead just screamed. His muscles tightened to the point of aching and he dropped to his ass in the dirt.

The crunch of the sheriff’s shoes behind him. “I’m sorry, son. I am. But you say you two had a fight, right? What’s to say she didn’t up and leave town already? Head on home, wherever that is, and I bet she’s waitin’ on you.”