Stranger Danger (13 page)

He touched her shoulder and nudged until she faced
him.
 
His expression might have been set
in stone, grim and serious, but his eyes were sad. “
Caca pasa,”
he said. “Get dressed, grab your stuff. Leave the phone
and let’s get the hell out of here while we can.”

Shit happens, he’d said and Sara agreed.
 
It did.

Chapter
Nine

Santiago gunned the old truck down the road with
speed, the tires singing against the pavement.
 
When he wheeled from the back road onto the two-lane highway, the truck
rocked. Sara grabbed the dash with one hand, afraid they might crash.
 
“Do you have to drive this fast?” she asked.

“Unless you want them to catch up to us, yeah, I
do,” he replied. “We don’t have a lot of time,
querida.”

“How long?”

He took a long swig from the Corona he’d pulled from
the fridge before they hauled ass.
 
She’d
been tempted but settled for a bottle of Pepsi for a much needed caffeine
fix.
 
Under normal circumstances she
would’ve screamed like a banshee over starting the day with a beer but considering
what they faced, she opted not to protest. “Thirty minutes, maybe.
Less than an hour, without any doubt.”

If she’d made sure her phone was off, they might
still be sleeping. “I’m sorry, Santiago.”

Despite his maniac speed, he removed one hand from the
wheel to touch her. “Stop apologizing,” he told her. “It’s not your fault and
like I
said,
caca
paso.”

Sara nodded.
 
“So
what are we doing and where are we going?”

His short laugh rang hollow.
 
“Good question,
chica.
 
I’m working on it.
Confiar
en
mí
.”

“I do trust you. She rested her hand
on his thigh and leaned closer. “You know that.”

“
Si.”

What she needed was reassurance. “When
this is over, Santiago, I want to be with you. Whatever happens, however,
wherever, I don’t want to lose you again.
 
It was hard enough the first time.
 
I don’t think I could stand a second.
 
Promise me we’ll be together.”

He guzzled the rest of the beer and
tossed the empty bottle onto the passenger floorboard.

“
Voy
a hacer changuitos, la muñequita.
It’s what I want, too,
but I can’t promise, only hope.” Santiago crossed his fingers as he spoke, an
echo of his words. “I have a few ideas, but I need a little time to think about
whether or not they’ll work.”

A promise would be better but hope would do for the
moment.
 
“How will this all end?” she
asked, curiosity fueling the courage to ask.

Santiago shrugged. “I don’t know.
 
Worst case, we both end up dead or I do.
 
Best case, I work something out with Enrique,
if I can, if word hasn’t spread outside the local M13 that Javier is really
me.
 
If it has, we’re fucked.
 
They’ll hunt me until they catch me, Sara,
and we would always be looking over our shoulders.”

His words upset her fragile emotions. “But…”

He lifted one hand from the wheel and put a finger
across her lips.
“
Cállate,
querida.
 
Right now we need to
figure out where in the hell to go, and then I have to decide what to do.
 
You’ve lived here long enough to help me think
of somewhere to go.”

“I don’t know,” Sara said. He’d thrown her a curve.
“You said something about a cheap motel.
 
There’s still a few along the old Highway 71 business corridor.”

“That was before, not now.
 
Flea pits are the first place they’ll
look.
 
Is there somewhere in Missouri or
Oklahoma?”

“I don’t know what you want.”

His laugh reminded her of a cold wind blowing
through dry grass, harsh and brittle. “Neither do
I
,
not exactly.”

Sara racked her brain. “There’s Branson, amusement
parks, music theaters, tourist attractions.”

Santiago rejected her idea.
“Too
glitzy, too busy.”

“Springfield and Joplin both have some cheap, old
fashioned mom and pop style motels and there’s some all along I-44,” she said,
thinking out loud. “Eureka Springs wouldn’t be very good because the streets
are narrow and steep.
 
It’d be too easy
to get caught.
 
Maybe a fishing camp somewhere
in the hills or one of the casino hotels in Oklahoma would work.”

Without swerving at all, one hand on the wheel, he
leaned over and kissed her, swift and hard.
“
Gracias.
 
That might work.
 
How many casinos are there?”

“A lot but only a few have hotels.”

“Have you been to any of them?”

“A few times but I never stayed overnight. I went to
a couple of seminars, took Catie and the other employees out for a holiday
girls night, and once with one of my neighbors.”

“Good.
 
Then
you can tell me how to get to one, but we need to make a stop at a discount
store along the way.”

She didn’t ask why, just nodded and provided
directions to travel north toward Neosho, then west into Oklahoma.
 
They stopped at the first Wal-Mart Super
Center they passed.
 
After a few days on
the run, something as ordinary as shopping seemed odd.
 
After Santiago parked near one of the
shopping cart racks, he climbed out of the truck, but she hesitated.

He turned back and frowned. “What’s wrong, Sara?”

“This feels weird.”

Santiago laughed. “Every other woman I’ve ever known
loves these damn places.”

“I usually don’t mind.” Sara had no idea what the
source of her tension might be, but she opened her door.
 
He provided a hand to help her down. “What
are we doing, anyway?”

“I need a throwaway phone and some other
things.
 
You probably could use some
stuff too.”

“Like clean underwear.
 
That’s at the top of my list.
 
I thought we didn’t want any phones, though.”

“I need to make a call or two.
 
Pay as you go phones are harder to
track.
 
Let’s get this over with.”

The weekday morning crowds were light, but as Sara
grabbed a shopping cart, she scanned the other shoppers in an effort to spot
anything suspicious. Elderly ladies, some with suspender-wearing husbands in
tow, young mothers with infants and toddlers, housewives, and a few
professionally dressed people moved through the store, ordinary as a loaf of
bread or a gallon of milk.
 
She released
the breath she’d been holding and relaxed a little as she steered the cart
toward ladies wear.
 
“I’ll meet you up
front in a few minutes.”

He grasped the side of the basket with enough force
to bring it to a halt. “We can’t split up,” he said. “Stay with me.”

Sara tilted her head to gaze up at him. “I thought
we weren’t in much danger here.”

“Probably not but stay close.” As he spoke, Santiago
moved beside her.
 
Side by side, they
pushed the cart through the store, each adding things.
 
She enjoyed the domestic activity and savored
it.
 
Maybe someday, she thought, they’d
do this without fear.
 
As the items
stacked higher in the cart, she thought about the small amount of money in her
purse.
 
“Santiago?”

He glanced up from reading the pay-as-you-go phone
package.
“
Si?”

“If I use my credit or debit card, won’t they be
able to track us that way?”

“It’s possible but don’t worry.
 
Don’t use it.
 
I’ve got plenty of cash.”

Once it sank in, she gulped and nodded. “Okay.”

As a gang member, as the enforcer or as he’d called
it, a “bad
hombre
”, he would.
 
She hadn’t thought of that reality. His
wallet must be fat, because he selected additional items for her, things she
wouldn’t have considered otherwise.
 
After he paid and the multiple bags were stowed in the truck, many
tucked into a suitcase Santiago bought, they headed west into Oklahoma to the
casino hotel.

It towered over the two-lane highway and surrounding
countryside, every bit as out of place as an alien spaceship or dinosaur.
 
The hotel stretched six stories toward the
sky and the casino wing spread out toward a vast parking lot, over half filled
even on a weekday.
 
  

Santiago parked the truck in a row of other older
vehicles.
 
He gathered their luggage as
she stepped down and they entered the lobby together.
 
The space featured a free standing central
fireplace, but Santiago turned to the front desk.
 
He requested a room with a king size bed and
booked one for three nights.
 

“Would you like me to charge one of your credit
cards, sir?” the clerk asked.

“No, thanks,” Santiago replied in a lazy Texas style
drawl. “I prefer to pay cash.
 
I won down
at Tulsa and like to spread my wealth if you know what I mean.”

Anywhere else, Sara thought, the clerk would’ve
questioned it, but not here.
 
“That’s
fine, sir. Can I see your driver’s license, please?”

Sara cringed within.
 
Here’s where it all goes to hell.
 
“
Si,”
Santiago
said and produced a Texas license.
 
She
peered over his shoulder to read the name – Juan Gonzales.
 
Juan apparently lived in Fort Worth, but his
official photo was Santiago.
 
Seven
minutes later, they walked into a deluxe king room and she shook her head. “So
you have a fake Texas driver’s license, too?”

He grinned. “
Si,
of course I do.
 
It’s for backup and
right now, I’m damn glad I have it.
 
Nice
room, don’t you think?”

She glanced around.
 
The huge bed sat beneath a trio of Native American artwork across from a
big screen television on the opposite wall.
 
Through the open drapes, Sara admired the panorama spreading out over
the countryside.
 
Santiago flopped down
in an easy chair as she nodded. “Yes. I just wish we were here under better
circumstances.”

Santiago snorted. “I dreamed of being somewhere like
this with you for years,
la muñequita.
 
Despite the reason, I’m glad we’re
together.”
 
He leaned back, closed his
eyes, and sighed.

“You look so tired.”

Without opening his eyes, he nodded. “I am.
 
And my shoulder hurts like hell.”

Fatigue lines cut deep into his face, adding age
beyond his years.
 
The way he sat,
slumped in the chair, he reminded her of his late papa. The set of his lips
indicated more than a little pain.
 
Sara
settled onto the floor at his feet and put a hand on his knees.
“
Mi corazon,
how much?”

“
Me duele muy mal.”

“Then you need to take something to help.” She
stretched for a suitcase with some of their purchases tucked inside. “We bought
some ibuprofen and acetaminophen, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, but give me the tequila. It works better for
me.”

“I know it does. Why don’t you take a long, hot
shower, then I’ll change the dressing.
 
Then you can drink tequila and sleep.”

He caressed the back of her head,
then
sifted his fingers through her hair. “Okay.
 
No matter how much I drink, wake me up for supper.
 
I want a steak.”

If he hadn’t been in pain, she would’ve wanted a
kiss, then more.
 
“Sure,” she said.

* * * *

A spectacular sunset filled the western sky with
vivid orange tempered with a rich purple and stark black.
 
A few clouds added some softness.
 
Sara faced it, bare beneath her nightgown and
stretched.
 
She’d slept enough that a
lingering drowsiness remained.
 
Santiago
joined her, his hands warm and heavy on her shoulders. Without turning, she
asked, “Are you hurting less?”