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Mouth hung wide, he stares back in silence, the argument undoubtedly cocked at the back of his throat failing to break free, as if he’s contemplating the possibilities.
“I’m going to be in a new church. You can’t stay at the rectory there.”
“I’ve got enough cash to float me about for a month in motels.”
“And that’s how you’d choose to spend your life savings? Holed up in a motel somewhere?”
“Damon, I feel safe with you. If being holed up in a motel means I stay close to you, then yes. That’s exactly what I choose.”
“And your apartment?”
“I’ll pay one more month and go from there. Look, I can’t talk you out of going, I know that. But I’m not letting you go there alone.”
“And if something happens to me. You won’t try to play some avenging angel and get yourself killed?”
“Only if you promise to do everything in your power to keep something from happening to you.”
He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. It sucks that I’ve had to back him into this corner, but every word I’ve said is true. I have no one for me here, and having no one is dangerous. “What if there’s a better path for you, Ivy? One with marriage and children and a happy life?”
“Seems to me, going along with you is the best way to sweeten those odds.”
Lips pressed together, he seems to chew on his thoughts, before his shoulders sag in defeat. “Fine. You’ll come with me and stay in a motel outside of the city.”
“Not too far outside, though.”
“God help me, if anything happens to you …”
“God will have to help himself. Can you imagine me trying to get inside the pearly gates?”
His lip lifts to a slight, crooked smile. “No. Oddly enough, I can’t.”
“Neither can I. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” I crawl across the bed to where he stands beside it and push up to my knees. Snaking my arms around his neck, I let him pull me in for a kiss to my forehead. “When do we leave?”
“Week’s end. Square away what you need to before then.”
“What’s his name?” At the unyielding look in his eyes, I glide my thumb across his lips that refuse to speak it. “If you fail to kill him, I’ll need to know who’s coming after me next. It’s hard to run from a faceless shadow.”
There’s a moment of hesitation before his eye twitches the way it does when he’s about to give in to me. “El Cabro Blanco. The White Goat.But from what I’ve gathered of the man, if he kills me first, you won’t even see him coming.”
28
Damon
Calexico is a border city, spanning about six hundred square miles, directly across from Mexicali. If one were to drive through, they might think it nothing but another heavily-influenced Mexican town in California, but this city happens to exist in the shadow of its sister across the border, making it one big, extended multicultural family.
There isn’t much here, no main strip, really, and the only entertainment seems to be the local theater up the road. Homes and open spaces. And fields. Lots of fields. At a glance, it doesn’t seem like the kind of town that’d house gangs, or one of the more dangerous men in the crime world, but as I’ve come to know, looks can be quite deceiving.
I’ve got Ivy set up in a small, but clean, motel, about twelve miles north of here in El Centro, one of the bigger nearby cities. One I hope she’ll blend into without getting noticed. Hard to expect from a woman who never goes unnoticed. Even ten minutes away seems too far, for the way this place makes me uneasy, but there might be some logic to staying right under the Goat’s nose.
I turn the car into the parking lot of Our Lady of Guadalupe, toward the parish offices at the back. Exiting my car, I notice a kid, maybe sixteen, or seventeen, leaning against the wall of a cheap motel across the street. When I nod at him, the kid flips me off.
Nice town.
Inside the building, a short, pudgy woman, pushing sixty, is sitting at a desk, and she greets me with a smile. “Hello,” she says with a strong Spanish accent. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Father Damon Russo.”
“Ah! Welcome,Padre! We’ve been expecting you! One moment.” She pushes up from the desk and hobbles off toward what must be offices behind her, stopping at the first door on the right. “Padre Damon está aquí.”
