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Not five minute later, the knock came. Three, two, two.
I opened it and Lee walked in. “He’s gone. Time for lunch. Let’s roll.”
* * *
I waiteduntil we were rounding the Brown Palace when I asked, “How did Terrible Teddy’s face get like that?”
“Me.”
“You hit him?”
“He touched you, you said it hurt. I found him and beat the shit out of him.”
Oh…my…God.
“Please tell me you didn’t do it in that little room,” I said quietly.
“It was before he was put in the holding room.”
At least that was something.
I was silent while Lee drove. I’d taken off the gunbelt and put it in the trunk with the one Lee took from a drawer in his desk. His was stocked like Vance’s.
Lee parallel parked the Crossfire in a choice spot in front of Las Delicias.
I loved Las Delicias. It was the best Mexican restaurant in Denver if you didn’t count El Tejado. Though, I really didn’t have to choose since El Tejado was officially in Englewood.
I was also silent while they sat us in a booth and Lee slid in beside me rather than across from me.
I turned to him, looked down at the seat then up at him.
“Let me guess, you aren’t much of a booth sharer?” he remarked.
I shook my head.
“Me either, but I’m attempting to control the environment.”
I looked beyond him. He was turned toward me, his back to the restaurant.
“Wild Bill Hickock got shot with his back to the door,” I informed him.
“I’m not controlling the room. I’m going to attempt to control you.”
Uh-oh.
The waitress came and slid a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa on our table.
Neither of us had opened our menus. We didn’t need to.
Ally and I went to Las Delicias or El Tejado at least twice a month, sometimes more. Dad joined us on occasion. Hank joined us most of the time. Even when he was on-duty, he’d come in for a dinner break. Every once in a while, and looking back it had been much more often in the last year or two, Lee came. He was with us so often I could order for him. He’d have three chicken burritos, smothered with lettuce and cheese, and a beer if it was evening, iced tea during the day.
Lee looked up at the waitress and ordered a diet pop for me, an iced tea for him, his burritos and my bean tostada and burrito chicharrone smothered with lettuce and cheese.
I guess Lee could order for me, too.
He turned back to me. “We’re here because it’s good and it’s fast. We have things to do.”
I nodded. I was still dealing with being totally freaked out so I wasn’t processing much. I was just hoping I could process my burrito and tostada or I’d be paying for a professional cleaning of the Crossfire.
