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Tasha, his granddaughter and my old friend, leaned in to kiss me on both cheeks. “How’ve you been?”
I nodded once. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
Her red lips curled up at the corners. “Then I won’t be offended you didn’t call.”
“Is that you, Tasha?” the old man asked.
“Sí, abuelito,” she answered. “I’m right here.”
“I recognized your perfume.”
As did I. Tasha and I had hooked up enough times to turn me into a dog whose mouth watered at the hint of Chanel No. 5.
“Tsk, tsk, Cristiano,” she said quietly to me. “What are you doing sneaking my grandfather into dark corners?”
Tasha had a powerful bloodline. Her mother—the daughter of a self-made, well-connected Russian mobster—had been married into a Mexican dynasty. Natasha—Tasha or Tatia—had been born the baby of her family and was more interested in the spoils the arms and narcotics trade afforded her than the business itself. But she knew more than she let on. And she could be of use to me now.
Fleetingly, I wondered what my Natalia at home would think of me standing here with Natasha, the woman I’d teased her about in La Madrina weeks ago. I’d told my then-unknown future bride that Natasha had sucked my cock like it’d end in a mouthful of gold. And she had, but I’d said it to shock Natalia. What would my bride say about it now that she’d given me the gift of her beautiful mouth? I’d heard repressed tremors of jealousy in Natalia’s voice before—over Jaz, Sandra, or just at the prospect of my infidelity. After I’d fought so hard for just the chance to earn Natalia’s devotion, I gave in easily to the satisfying feeling that she might one day be possessive over me.
Or that maybe she already was.
Without thinking, I picked up my mezcal, then froze as the old woman’s words from earlier filtered through my consciousness.
I’d dump that out if I were you.
Strange woman. And seemingly very intuitive. I didn’t believe in clairvoyance but perhaps she’d seen something. I glanced into the dregs of the glass feeling better than ever and tempted to finish it off. But I was too far from the safety the Badlands’ walls to take any chances.
I set it back down. “I’m looking for remaining members of the Valverde family,” I told Tasha.
The Owl answered. “You want the locations of their gravesites?”
Tasha pursed her lips to suppress her smile. “There’s your answer. Now, how about we get a drink?”
Not so fast. Clearly, the old man’s mind wasn’t completely gone. “I don’t believe they’re all dead,” I said, though I’d been told they were plenty of times.
“They might as well be.” Tasha crossed her bare arms. “They haven’t been relevant in years.”
I arched an eyebrow at her. “Then giving me information on them shouldn’t be a problem.”
With a sigh, she squatted at her grandfather’s side. “Grandfather? What do you know about the Valverdes?”
“I know nothing about nothing,” he said.
She glanced up at me as she spoke to him. “You know so much, though. It’s me, Tasha. Are there still any living members of the Valverde family?”
“Who? What?”
“Listen to me, abuelo,” she said firmly, and then repeated, “Where are the living members of the Valverde family now?”
He grumbled. “They’re all dead. All of them . . . but there are men in the south who say otherwise.”
Tasha covered his hand with hers. “Where in the south?”
“If you’ve hit Guatemala, you’ve gone too far.”
I would’ve laughed if I wasn’t desperate for this information, which could not only bring some peace to my world, but also get me where I was meant to be—back home. Running the Badlands. Unearthing things most thought were better left to rest. And teasing, learning about, and sleeping by my Natalia.
“Which town down south?” I pressed.
“Go fuck yourself,” he said. “I know nothing about nothing. Where’s Elena?”
“She’s not with us anymore, papi,” Tasha said. “You remember.”
Perfect. I’d been reduced to getting information from, first, an aging mystic-for-hire, and second, a once great man who now didn’t know his own wife was six feet under.
Tasha shook her head and stood. “I think that’s the best you’ll get. ‘I know nothing about nothing’ is his mantra.”
“I just need to know which town,” I said.
She took my cigarette from my hand and placed it between her lips, staring at me as she took a drag. “Use that devious brain you’re so famous for.” She parted her lips, and smoke curled around us. “Where would you hide? If it were me, I’d look for either the deepest hole or the highest mountain.”
I shifted my gaze behind her and nodded at Max. “Take him back.”
When Tasha and I were alone, she set the cigarette on the ledge next to my drink, pressed a hand to my chest, and leaned in for a kiss.
I drew back. “I’m married now. Didn’t you know?” I teased, since it was unlikely she’d heard.
