Page 54

You Couldn’t Have Mentioned It?

The past six months, it had been more and more challenging for Hector to decide which part of the day was his favorite. He loved them all.

He poured the kibble into the troughs, then checked the board and saw four more dogs had been placed in homes that day, and even better, only two new rescues had arrived. The way Brenda’s model was working, it was only a matter of time before every stray around had found a forever home, and in the meantime, they were safe and cared for.

Hector waved adios to the staff and walked down the path and through the gate to the resort side of their property. He passed the row of casitas and caught the sun on the horizon, quickening its descent into the Pacific. Live music from the patio wafted through the coconut trees, and he checked his watch. Happy hour was in full swing. Hector skirted the entry fountain, cut through the open-air lobby, and slid two pieces of paper across the front desk to Andre. They lifted a bit off the counter in the breeze from the ceiling fans. “The couple in 4C are adopting Ranger, the black lab mix. They’re taking him back to Philadelphia, and Casita 6 are taking the beagle mix, Scout, to St. Louis.”

Andre nodded, pushed his bifocals up his nose, and studied the papers. “Cool. That’ll make Brenda happy. I’ll get the paperwork going and line up the arrangements with the airlines.”

He turned back to the computer.

Hector rounded the end of the counter and ducked his head in the office. He waved and moved on, not wanting to disturb Larry, who was readying a deposit and in the middle of counting money.

Money. It’s always about the money.

When Brenda had first told Hector that Padma suspected there was money—and millions at that—missing from the casino, and the husbands had something to do with it, Hector had thought that even a barber, a guy who did whatever needs doin’, and his wife could use a retirement plan.

Back in his mother’s living room, Hank had asked why he didn’t put a gun to the husbands’ heads and take the money and run. Hector had considered it, but then he’d have a target on his back, and that was no life for Brenda. Plus, he’d spent a lifetime around bad people doing bad things and he’d learned it pays to be patient.

With one look at Padma he’d known not only would she never follow through on any career promise she made to Brenda, but she could even be dangerous to his wife. He loved that Brenda couldn’t see it. And she didn’t need to. That’s why she had him. Then, when he’d met Farid and smelled his sickly breath and felt the weak squeeze of his handshake, Hector saw that Farid and Padma would either fuck each other over or expect to be fucked. All he had to do was wait on the sidelines.

That was the one thing Hector liked about working with bad people—or in Padma’s case, essentially good people in the habit of doing bad things: they’re predictable. While he hadn’t exactly predicted Farid would level his gun at Elmer, he hadn’t been surprised. And in that moment, Farid had opened up another line of possibility. Now if the money didn’t make it back to the casino, Farid wouldn’t kill the wives—because dead guys can’t do anything.

Opportunity had knocked, and Hector had been patiently waiting by the door. When Larry had walked him through the Virtual Safety Deposit Box and the subsequent bank transfer Farid would have to set up, Hector had paid close attention and asked the right questions.

Farid should never have messed with the dog.

While Hector had comforted the quaking Elmer, he had looked from the dead creep to his briefcase, and when his eyes had landed on Farid’s laptop, he had done a quick risk assessment. Then he had done what he always did. He had done what was best for him and Brenda.

He’d stood, picked up Farid’s laptop from the table, lifted the corpse’s finger to unlock it, and then he’d clicked on the Virtual Safety Deposit Box icon. When it had called for facial recognition, grateful for his clean shot, he’d held the laptop in front of Farid’s dead face.

Bingo.

The VSDB had opened, and there sat the nine-million-dollar bank draft, its transfer to the casino bank account pending. Hector had used Farid’s dead face again to cancel the transfer, and then he had signed into his own anonymous email account, the one he kept for times when he, well, needed to be anonymous. He had attached the nine-million-dollar draft and had sent it to a numbered company that owned another numbered company that owned the San Salvador Animal Rescue. He had tucked the laptop on Farid’s chest and later destroyed it when he returned to clean up the body.

The husbands and wives thought Padma and the casino had the money.

Padma thought Farid took the money and ran.

Farid was going to kill a dog. Fuck him.

And that’s the nice thing about doing whatever needs doin’. No one really knows what kind of money that pays, or how much there is in the offshore bank accounts. People can speculate, but they don’t know. So, when a barber looks like he’s worked hard and has been able to cobble some funds together to buy a rundown resort on the coast of El Salvador, and he’s able to make cash deals for renovations, and hire people who he knows can take care of things, and build a community, no one asks where his money came from. They may wonder, but they don’t ask.

But most importantly, for Hector: happy wife, happy life.

He looked for her now and found Brenda at the far end of the dining room, standing in a swath of setting sunlight, watching over happy hour by the pool.

It was still early for dinner service, and the dining room was deserted as Hector walked by the louvered windows that gave onto the patio, when a familiar voice filtered through the slats and the hairs on his arms stood up.

“I had a close call one time. I had a break-in but didn’t have my phone with me. So, after my husband died and the girls and I—you met Nancy and Shalisa, right? They’re in the pool. That’s Nancy doing laps, and that’s Shalisa, floating on the rubber ducky. She’s on the phone, probably talking to Bob, he’s her new boyfriend. Look, she’s waving. Cheers!”

A pause and the voice continued, “When we moved to Boca Raton, with our friend Marlene—she said you’re taking her to dinner later. She loves to dance. Do you dance? Oh, great. You’ll have fun. Anyway, I insisted on a landline. About a month ago I answered the phone . . .”

Another pause and the clinking sound of cocktails arriving at the table.

“Gracias. You know how it is—you answer the phone and either they want to clean your ducts, or you’ve won a cruise.”

Hector could hear the response of a male chuckle. He sidled up to the other side of the shutters and stood still. He checked, and Brenda was still at the far end of the room, arms folded, focused on the patio.

Hector sighed. What the fuck had she done now?

The voice carried on. “Well, this time when I picked up the phone, they told me I’d won an all-expenses-paid trip for four, to this place. Sure, I thought. But I’ll go along with it. We’re doing okay, but we’re on a budget. We each got a cash settlement of a hundred grand when our husbands died—we didn’t even make a claim, just got an email from the boat manufacturer and a deposit in our accounts. And Nancy and I have a bit of a pension. Oh my God. I’m talking so much. Well, we sure could use a vacation, so I said to the woman on the phone, send the tickets. And they showed up by courier. When we went to the airport this morning, we weren’t even positive there’d be a flight. Or what it’d be like when we got here. What kind of resort has an animal rescue attached to it? There aren’t any pictures online, you know. No social media presence at all. So it was a real leap of faith, but here we are. Voilà. Cheers to you, Manuel. How long have you been a widower?”

Hector heard the clink of glasses and then the slurp of straws.

The man’s voice, heavy with a Latin American accent, said, “My. I’ve never had a margarita this good. Have you?”

There was no reply.

Hector heard a chair scrape against the flagstone, and he pushed back the shutter to take a peek. Yep. There they were. Marlene was under an umbrella, her nose buried in a tourist brochure, and Nancy and Shalisa were in the pool. A handsome, older man sat alone, sipping a margarita with an empty chair beside him, the partially full glass and straw hat his companion had abruptly abandoned sitting on the table in front of him.

Brenda slipped her arm around Hector’s waist, and he put his around her shoulders. He raised an eyebrow, then jumped when something brushed his shin. He crouched down. “Elmer! They brought you too! Good to see you, bud.”

He looked up at Brenda. “An all-expenses-paid trip for four, plus a dog. What have you done?”

“I’ve just put some people with a shared history in the same geographical area to see if there’s still any chemistry.”

Hector shook his head. “You sound like you’re lining up your high school course schedule, but you’re messing with people’s lives.”

He ruffled Elmer’s fur as the dog leaned hard against him. He looked up at his wife. “And you couldn’t have mentioned it?”

Brenda smoothed her husband’s hair. “You guys would all have said no. Your mother approved.”

Hector gave Elmer’s chin a final rub, ran his hands over his own face, and stood.

Their greeting completed, Elmer trotted out through the dining room doorway to the patio. His nose high, he sniffed and then followed Pam’s scent along the pool’s edge. He was closing the gap behind her when he caught another smell. His ears popped up, and he sniffed again, turning his head in time to catch Hank coming out from behind the bar, drying his hands on a white linen towel. Elmer’s rear end vibrated, and he bounded three quick steps toward his old friend before forcing himself to brake, wait, and watch.

Seeing Pam, Hank jerked to a stop. Elmer sat down, and his tail cautiously swept stray grains of beach sand left and right across the flagstones while his eyes traveled from Hank to Pam and back again. His tail stilled as Pam slowed and then paused ten paces from her husband.

The couple locked eyes for a long moment, and then Pam said, “You remind me of someone I used to know.”

A corner of Hank’s mouth turned up. “Funny. I was thinking the same about you.”

Pam crossed her arms. “The man I’m thinking of left me. A while back.”

Hank gave two slow nods. “I bet he had a real good reason to leave someone like you.”

Pam raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

“I do.”

Hank crossed his arms. “Mind you, the woman I’m thinking of did some crazy shit to me. Like cray-zee.”

Pam nodded twice. “I bet she thought it was a good idea. At the time.”

Hank raised an eyebrow back. “You think?”

Hank looked off and squinted into the setting sun. Pam gave a subtle shrug and a small smile. Elmer had never seen Pam look like this. Happy and sad at the same time. He could tell she wanted something. And he did too. But he wasn’t sure they were going to get it.

Then Pam said, “I bet she wishes none of it ever happened.”

Hank brought his eyes back to her, and they glistened as he said, so softly that Elmer could barely hear, “I bet he does too.”

Hank tossed the towel over his shoulder, smiled, and opened his arms wide. Elmer bounced up, and his tail whirred like a helicopter rotor. Pam held Hank’s gaze; she waited half a beat and then sprinted to her husband, stretching her arms around his waist, nestling her cheek against his chest, and slipping into place like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle that had been sitting unfinished, for too long, on a dusty card table. As they embraced, Elmer pushed his way between them, his tail tickling their bare legs.

In the dining room, Brenda slid her finger in Hector’s belt loop and leaned into him.

Hector’s eyes lingered on Pam and Hank. “You realize that could have gone sideways.”

Brenda rested her head against his shoulder. “Hec-toro. You, especially, know everyone deserves a second chance.”

“I guess.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind Brenda’s ear. “Ay, Dios mio, amor. Fasten your seatbelts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.”

She looked up at him. “Airplane!?”

“No. Bette Davis in All About Eve.”

Hector grabbed her hand and led her away. “Let’s get out of here quick. We don’t want to be around when Andre and Shalisa see each other.”