“I know. But fears are often like that. Irrational and stupid. I’m sure you fear something. Thoughts keep you up at night and you can’t subdue them.”
He looked at her carefully, and she didn’t like the way his eyes lingered on her, as if he wished she would reciprocate and share a deep fear of her own.
She feared this town, this life, but most of all she feared the future.
She grabbed a piece of ribbon and toyed with it, evading his gaze. “We need to try the poison again.”
“Sure, at some point,” he replied carelessly, as if they were talking about a Sunday outing.
“When? Cándido suspects there’s something going on.”
“He doesn’t know anything. Calm down.”
“I am calm.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” she said, although that was a lie. Cándido made her nervous, and she was certain he’d sniff out the truth soon if they didn’t spring into action. She pressed on stubbornly. “I’m not prepared to spend the rest of my life waiting.”
“I’m not prepared to spend the rest of my life in jail if we act too rashly,” he said with a jagged smile. “Don’t you think it would be a bit funny to have two deaths in a house only a few months apart?”
“We didn’t kill Nepomuceno.”
“No, we didn’t. But it doesn’t matter, it would still look funny. Besides, wealmostkilled him.”
“What do you mean?”
“He had the bottle in his room. For all we know, he took a sip.”
“He did not,” she said hotly. “He took the pills because he was stupid. He was a damn fool.”
“It could have been both things. Thank God they didn’t perform an autopsy.”
“It was the pills. It wasn’t us!”
He shushed her. “Calm down. Someone will hear you.”
She felt like crying. But she didn’t want him to see her weeping and she shook her head, wished the tears away, and let the anger that was boiling in her blood warm her tongue. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone and we need to act. Stop being an idiot.”
“We need to take it easy for a while.”
“Then you’re not going to do anything? You’re too comfortable getting free meals and lodging to want to leave.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a complicated thing, murder, and I’ve never killed anyone.”
Although his caution was understandable, she felt inordinately angry at his response. It was his composure that affected her; he seemed perfectly calm while she kept thinking about every word Cándido had uttered. That man was dangerous. Besides, she was fed up with waiting. She’d been waiting her whole life for something to change.
“I’m not good at these conspiracies,” he said. He shrugged, looking almost like an innocent lad.
“Apparently all you’re good at is fucking,” she said, with a vicious disdain that made him narrow his eyes at her.
She expected him to insult her, but that jagged smile seemed to slash his face with a clean brutality, and he snorted.
“How would you know that? Have you been listening intently behind closed doors? Pressed your ear against a wall and tried to hear when I made your aunt orgasm?”
She felt her face grow warm with shame while he draped an arm around the mannequin’s shoulder and tossed her a challenging grin.
“You’re a filthy pig.”
