Blue Diablo (Corine Solomon #1)

Before I could answer, Butch barked twice. I guessed he couldn’t read maps. With a grin, Chance started the car. We’d steamed up the windows, so he turned on the defroster as we pulled out of the parking lot. The wet pavement made a shushing sound beneath the tires.

“It’s on the east side,” I said. “Are we sure this is the smartest course? They killed Lenny with Uzis or AKs or something.”

“Why don’t I drop you off at Chuch’s place?”

“And then you’ll go by yourself? No thanks. I’d suggest calling Saldana if we hadn’t already given him a mess to clean up today. He’s pretty pissed, you know.”

Chance nodded, offering a rather wicked smile. “Yeah, I got that when he started yelling instead of hitting on you. I didn’t mind the change.”

“That’s great, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

We came off the highway into town and followed East Del Mar to our address. It was farther out in the country than either of us expected, but when I saw the private landing strip, a feeling of dread boiled up. As if he sensed it, Butch whined and hid his head. A barricade with a NO TRESPASSING sign blocked the drive, though we could move it manually. If we were that dumb. Lenny probably had been.

“We shouldn’t go in.”

“No,” I agreed. “It’s private property. And I guarantee they’re up to something shady if they have small planes coming and going out here.”

“So we’re being sensible?”

“We have a dog to think about now, after all.”

In answer, Chance backed the Mustang onto the road and reversed. “We need a plan before we go bumbling around.”

“I agree entirely.” I thought as we drove, trying to pinpoint what was bothering me. “Why hasn’t the warlock attacked us again?”

“Good question. Storing power for another frontal assault, like at the warehouse?”

“I don’t know. And it bothers me.” I hesitated and then added, “But I might know somebody who can help. Her aid comes with a price, though. Maybe a steep one.”

“I’d be suspicious if it didn’t. Where to?”

“San Antonio. Butch might need a bathroom break first, though.” The dog poked his head out of my purse and yapped once. “You heard him—pull over a minute.”

“Yes, dear.” His amber eyes crinkled as he grinned.

After the Chihuahua did his business and had a drink, we got on the road. The miles went fast, but I didn’t pinpoint why until we were almost there. At some point over the last few days we’d gotten back on our old footing, easy and familiar. Most of all, I still liked Chance. It didn’t seem the right time to talk about us, though, given how much I’d discouraged him from getting personal until we wrapped all this up, one way or another.

As we entered the city limits, I said, “The club’s down near the college.” Chance didn’t need further directions. I guessed he knew Texas better than me. I remembered Twilight was on Main but I couldn’t remember the address, so we cruised a bit before I spotted it. “There we go. Pull over.”

Since it was early afternoon, I doubted they’d be open, but I hoped one of the employees might be around tidying up. Sure enough, we found the place locked, but I didn’t let that discourage me. I banged on the door with both fists.

Eventually a big guy with a white blond buzz cut came to glare at me. He could be anywhere from thirty-five to sixty. “Can’t you read, lady? We don’t open until four.”

He started to slam the door in my face.

“Wait! I need to locate Twila. Or Jeannie.” Maybe the ’tender would know how to find Twila. “Please, can’t you help? It’s important.”

“Are you a friend of Jeannie’s?” Suspicion laced his tone.

“Not really. I met her once. Saldana brought me to the club the other night and introduced me around. I met Twila and—”

“Oh.” He opened the door and stepped back. “So you’re gifted.” He said it so casually that I stumbled a bit coming inside. “I’m Bucky, Jeannie’s husband. Why don’t you come on in, pull up a stool, and tell me about the problem? Close the door behind you, mind. I don’t want any college kids in here before we open.”

I could see why the guy scared Saldana off even playful flirting. His hands looked as big as frying pans and could probably kill a man with one blow.

“Are you . . . gifted too?” I couldn’t get used to referring to it with such nonchalance. I’d spent my whole life pretending to be normal.

“Made, not born,” he said, somewhat proudly, I thought. “I participated in the Stargate Project from 1979 to 1981. I’m a fully trained remote viewer.”

“That’s clairvoyance?” Chance asked.

I was glad I didn’t have to.

“Yes, sir, it is. Before they stuck me in the program, I thought that was crazy talk. But there’s a lot more ’tween heaven and earth than you dreamed of in your philosophy, Horatio.” Hearing Shakespeare paraphrased with such a heavy twang put a smile on my face. “Now go on and tell me why you need to see Twila, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Chance did the talking. Since I wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to reveal, particularly to an ex-military bartender, I sat quiet while he talked. I guess he trusted the man instinctively because he told the story from start to finish.

That took a while and I nursed a watery Coke. When he finished, Bucky slammed a fist on the countertop. “Now, don’t that beat all. A man who’d take his revenge on somebody’s mama, well, I don’t reckon he’s any kind of man at all.”

That summed up my feelings too, but I didn’t think this was about Chance and me, after all. I felt sure it related to Yi Min-chin and her past that we’d tracked only as far as Nuevo Laredo and the zona.

“So anyway,” Chance said. “When Corine told me she might know somebody who could help, it sounded like a good idea. We’re just not equipped to handle this on our own.”

Bucky nodded. “Let me see if I can raise Twila. Just be aware that she’ll ask for something in return for her help.”

I nodded. “That seems to be the norm around here. We’re prepared.”

The blond bartender went to the back to use the phone. When he returned, he told us, “She’ll see you at five.” He handed us an address. “Bring the dog.”

Butch whimpered and hid his head.

Desperate Measures

We took the I-35 south and ate lunch at a Carl’s Jr. in Von Ormy because we wouldn’t leave Butch in the car and I couldn’t be persuaded to eat at any other fast food place. What can I say? I love those big juicy burgers. I fed half of mine to the dog, who showed his appreciation by biting my fingers, although not hard enough to hurt.

Then we found a PETCO on the southeast side of San Antonio and bought some basic supplies, such as a tiny stuffed bed, a leash, and a squeaky pizza that I liked more than the dog. We sure enough received some strange looks when we asked Butch what kind of food to buy. He preferred Hill’s Science Diet Lamb Meal & Rice Recipe.

At that point we’d wasted enough time and we needed to present ourselves at Twila’s place. The address Bucky had given us turned out to be a modest two-story in a reasonably affluent suburb on the fringes of the city. Given her persona, I expected something more Addams Family from her domicile, but she had peonies in the front yard, flower boxes, and a nice rock garden. I liked the glimmering pink stones that lined the flowerbeds too.

The rain had let up finally, leaving everything damp. I strode up the walk with what I hoped approximated confidence. Butch hung out of my bag, taking everything in, and Chance followed a few feet behind us. Gathering my courage, I rang the bell.

To my surprise Twila answered the door herself, though she looked no less exotic on an overcast afternoon than she had in the office at Twilight. Today she wore her braided hair up in a colorful scarf. Whatever she had in mind for poor Butch faded as soon as she saw my ex. Well, I was used to it. For his part, Chance stared at her as if he’d been hit with a hammer. Not so used to that.

She flashed a smile, bright and charming in her dusky face. “Bucky told me of your problem. Come in, let’s talk it over.”

I performed the introductions, not that either of them appeared aware of me. Twila led us into an immaculate living room furnished in black and white. I sank down onto a black leather armchair with a crunch. There was no way I could live with a carpet this pale. I’d spill sangria on it the first day I bought it, but I did like the lilies in a slim obsidian vase.

“Thanks for seeing us,” Chance said.

I suddenly understood what Eva meant when she said I ate him with my eyes, watching Chance do it to Twila. The way he stared, one would think he’d never seen a woman before. Okay, so she was beautiful—tall, shapely, and statuesque with eyes that shimmered like night on the Nile. I fidgeted while they talked softly on the couch, low enough that I might even call it whispering. I couldn’t make out the words.

There’s a reason people don’t hang around their exes, I decided. Butch watched me with moist-eyed sympathy, though to be fair he always looked like that.

Finally, Chance glanced my way and tossed me the keys to the Mustang. “Pick me up in a few hours, Corine? I think we’ve worked out satisfactory terms.”

I clenched my jaw and spoke through my teeth. “Absolutely.”

When I let myself out, they didn’t even look away from each other. I do not give a shit. If he wanted to whore himself out to the queen of San Antonio’s gifted, he had a perfect right. So much for his protestations of devotion, though.

I glanced down at Butch. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid. Any ideas?”

He barked twice but looked regretful about it.

I got into the Mustang. I’ve never been good at a manual transmission, so I ground the gears in getting out of the driveway. Butch put his paws over his head.

“I know, I know,” I muttered.

Truthfully I wanted to find the nearest ice cream shop and eat a hot fudge sundae, not that I cared what Chance did. No, sir. As I’d had a big lunch, I felt such self-indulgence would set a bad example for the dog. So we drove around until I found a park. He didn’t care for the leash and wasn’t much of a walker, but I didn’t think he needed to spend the rest of his life hiding in my handbag either, no matter how uncertain things seemed.

I needed to touch the life I’d left behind. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. So I rang up my shop in Mexico City, and Señor Alvarez answered on the second ring. We passed a few minutes chatting. To be polite, I first inquired about his health before asking about the shop. He assured me everything was fine and we’d turned a good profit, and I told him I’d be gone longer than expected.

“¿Puede trabajar otra semana?” I needed to know if he could work another week, as I didn’t look likely to return in a day or two.

“No hay problema,” Alvarez said. “Perdóneme, una cosa más, señorita. Un hombre pasó por aquí hace unos días, buscándola.”