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“Alright fine,” said Silas. “Yes, he talked some more before we cut him loose. But very little of it had to do with your brother Evan.”
I stepped into the kitchen eagerly. “What did he say?”
“He ‘remembered’ where he’d seen Evan. Some place on the east side of town. A restaurant, right near the lake.”
“Rightonthe lake,” Santiago corrected him. He reached for the bottle and refilled his shot glass.
My heart started pounding again. In a good way though, like in the shower.
“He definitely remembered your brother,” said Silas. “He said he was acting weird, though. Wouldn’t talk.”
I thought back to Evan’s worst, most strung-out times. He always retreated into himself, always kept unusually quiet. That part made sense.
“Most of what we found out had to do with the Ancellas though,” said Silas. “He was a cartel soldier, just like we thought. Quite nearly a boss, except…”
A few seconds of silence ticked by. “Except what?”
“Except it looks like he’s working with the Lozanos to ripoffthe cartel,” Santiago cut in. “A piece of knowledge that’s as useful as it is dangerous.”
Cody looked abruptly worried. He hadn’t looked anything like that before.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Silas countered. “I mean, we had him digging a hole out in the desert. The guy thought he was going to die. He could’ve been telling us anything he thought we wanted to hear.”
“But we made some calls,” Santiago interjected. “Turns out everything he was saying was pretty much legit. The stuff we could check on, anyway.”
Cody pointed to the vodka bottle. This time Silas slid it over.
“Think he’ll keep quiet, then?”
“If he knows what’s good for him, yes,” said Santiago.
Silas nodded his agreement. “He’s dead if he doesn’t.”
“He’s kinda dead anyway,” Cody pointed out, pouring himself a drink. “I mean… you’re helping an American crime family cross a Mexican cartel. As far as get rich quick schemes go, this one really fucks with your life expectancy.”
“That place on the lake,” I spoke up finally. “Do we know where it is?”
Santiago and Silas both nodded. “Sure do.”
“Maybe they have cameras,” I said excitedly. “Maybe we could pull their surveillance tapes and see which night Evan was there!”
Cody gave me a proud, approving smile. “And with whom,” he added.
Silas and Santiago were still leaning with their hands on the counter. It was late, they were tired, and they’d been out all night. Even so they looked ruggedly hot, all covered in dirt and sweat and dust.
Silas was the one who caught me looking.
“You want it clean or dirty?” he asked me abruptly.
The question caught me completely off-guard. “W—What?”
“You heard me,” he repeated firmly. He jerked his head at Santiago. “We’ve been talking about you all night. Running through scenarios.”
I gulped hard, as my body went flush with heat. “You have?”
Santiago nodded slowly, pushing his shot glass away. “And every one of those scenarios involves taking you to bed with us.”
Their eyes settled upon me, like wolves on a stray sheep. And then there was that one tiny word. The gut-churning, butterfly-inducing word that indicated I was in for something twice as hot, and ten times more exciting:
