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Lee’s arm came behind me on the booth and he twisted fully toward me. “First, Teddy. Bottom line is he’s not a good guy. Hittin’ you is the least of the shit he’s done. There’s all kinds of justice. Hank delivers justice his way. I do it my way.”
Um…yikes!
Lee kept talking (unfortunately).
“I’m in a dangerous business and I have enemies. You’re in my life now. I have to let it be known that if anyone fucks with you, there will be consequences.”
“Simple as that?” I asked, trying not to let on that he was kind of scaring me.
“Not simple as that. I didn’t like standin’ in my kitchen listenin’ to you tell me someone hurt you. It was a pleasure puttin’ my fist in Teddy’s face and feelin’ his nose break. He’s a big guy, he could have really hurt you. He’ll think twice before hitting a woman again.”
Holy crap.
“Do you have a problem with any of that?” Lee asked.
“Yes,” I answered honestly.
“Can you deal with it?”
“Yes,” I answered, again, honestly.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
That was no lie, either. I really didn’t want to talk about it. In fact, I was going to deal with it by using denial so talking about it would automatically defeat my dealing with it strategy.
Lee watched me closely, as if he was reading his special Indy Lie Detector Test, and then he leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine.
Guess I passed the test.
The waitress came back with the drinks.
If there was any fairness in the world, everyone would be able to have salsa from Las Delicias. Crisp, fresh onion, just enough cilantro. After a few margaritas, Ally and I could even make a case for salsa from Las Delicias bringing peace to the Middle East.
I picked up a chip and scooped a healthy serving of salsa. “What’s gonna happen to Teddy?”
“If he’s smart, he’ll skip town,” Lee said, scooping his own chip.
“Is he smart?”
“Not really. Coxy had two smart guys, Rick and Pete. Though in the end, apparently not that smart. Rick’s dead. Pete’s in jail facing kidnapping, assault and possibly murder, two of those against a cop’s daughter. They’ll want to give him his shoelaces, but they’ll do everything by the book and be thorough to make sure he gets nailed. Pete’s fucked.”
I grabbed another chip and broke it in half, the better to scoop the salsa. I didn’t have a lot of time to spare Pete, who I suspected was the guy I called Sandy. Pete had tied me to a chair and shot at me, twice. I didn’t know what Lee was talking about with regards to shoelaces, but I had no problem that he was fucked.
“Who do you think has the diamonds?” I asked Lee.
“I have the diamonds.”
“What?”
Okay, I shouted it. The other diners turned to stare. But what the fuck?
“Keep your voice down,” Lee warned.
“Did you just tell me you have the diamonds?”
Lee nodded, still turned toward me, eating his chips and salsa with his right hand, his left arm fencing me in on the back of the booth.
