Chapter 1

by Ann Whitaker

  “She means book,” Berto said.

  “Yes,” she said, “they’re giving him the book. He’s in big-time trouble. Tell her what else the paper said, Nick.”

  Nick stretched his arms and smiled with satisfaction. “His father, a former chief of police, was quoted as saying his son has shown ‘disrespect for the police force and a lack of moral values and honor.’”

  So much for being innocent until proven guilty. Gee. His father must really be ashamed.

  I stood up. Time to head back to my apartment and let the Espositos celebrate in private. “Is that it?”

  They all looked at me. “Isn’t that enough?” Nick asked.

  “It will do. It will definitely do.”

  Nick walked toward me, and before I could stop him, his arms wrapped around me. “Thank you, Julie. You’re our hero.” I gave him a stiff hug in return, glancing toward Babe. I knew how it felt when your man touched another woman.

  I kept my face blank. “What makes you think I had anything to do with this?”

  But the way they all kept smiling at me, you’d have thought I’d caught a killer. Though I was happy for them, the whole episode merely emphasized my own unhappy state. Come Sunday, all my ties with Waco would be severed forever.

  In the meantime, Berto helped with the dogs—with Carmen none the wiser—and Nick and Noche seemed to be batching it fine. But then, I found a note under my door from Nick. He had to make a quick run to Mexico for Berto, but I could put Noche in his apartment whenever I needed.

  Carmen, meanwhile, was caught up in planning the dogs’ coming out party, her eyes lighting up whenever she talked about it. “With Butch in jail, now we can have a double celebration. I’m so glad Barbi will be here for the dogs’ debut. Rosa is making turkey tamales, and I’ve hired a mariachi band from San Antonio.” She clapped her hands in excitement. “Everyone’s going to dance and have a wonderful time!”

  Whenever I expressed reservations, she called me a “pooper,” but I did have reservations. “Are you sure you aren’t overdoing this, a party for the dogs? They’ve both learned a lot, but we don’t know how they’ll react around a crowd and a band. I’m not really sure anyone is interested in seeing them heel and sit.”

  Carmen stomped her small foot. “Of course they’ll be interested. Who wouldn’t love mis perros? Everyone will love them. And mis niños will be perfect.”

  I hoped she was right.

  With Nick gone again, time slowed to a basset hound’s pace. I told myself I’d be better off once my tempter was out of range for good. After Sunday, I’d never see him again and could resume my life in Big A.

  Maybe I’d date Marlon. I might even marry Marlon. He had the pedigree. He’d said he liked dogs, and he’d asked me out again, but I’d had to tell him I was too busy for now. I was busy.

  Or maybe I’d marry some guy my mother picked out. Ha. Who was I fooling? I’d rather live as a nun than settle for a guy my mother chose. I’d take a vow of poverty and chastity and devote my life to caring for dogs. But then, that’s pretty much what I’d already done.

  Toward the end of the week, I sat outside my apartment in a chaise longue, drinking an ice-cold glass of chardonnay, watching the sunset—a merging of blue, pale orange, and pink. I should have felt content. I’d done the job I’d been hired to do, and I’d helped bring harmony to a marriage.

  Instead, I felt nothing but emptiness. I went inside and poured another glass of chardonnay, deciding to treat myself to one big pity party. Back outside, I moved my chair to another spot in a clump of trees near Nick’s apartment for a better view of the lake.

  Over the lake, as the sky slowly darkened, more stars appeared. I must have fallen asleep, because I dreamed of soft voices, speaking in the musical cadence of Spanish. Then, a voice deeper than the rest, speaking English, broke the mood. I awakened with a jerk.

  A voice from the direction of Nick’s apartment hissed. “Be quiet. We don’t want to wake anyone up.”

  My eyes popped open. Nick! Why was he sneaking around in the dark? And who was with him? Babe? The thought brought a lump to my throat.

  The darkness amplified each small sound. I didn’t move. Footsteps shuffled across his porch and a key slipped into the lock. Inside, Noche gave a low growl, then began to bark.

  Nick whispered a notch louder. “Dammit, I forgot about the dog. You guys wait a minute.” The shuffling footsteps stopped. “Let me go in first.”

  The door squeaked open, and Noche bounded out with barks of welcome when he saw Nick. “Yes, I’m happy to see you, too. Off. Quiet. Good boy. Good quiet.”

  Peering around a tree, I saw Nick squatted down, stroking Noche’s thick curls and heard Noche whine with pleasure. Lucky dog. Then Nick stood, and behind him I made out Carmen’s gardener, Ramón, and another man I didn’t recognize, both holding large garbage bags.

  They left the door open as they entered the apartment. Noche followed.

  I crept closer.

  Nick waved his flashlight toward a closet. “Put them in there.” The closet door opened and closed, and the men reappeared on the porch.

  “Gracias. Here.” My eyes were gradually growing accustomed to the dark. Nick pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and passed them to the men, then locked the door. The men then began the trek back toward the big house with Nick in the lead.

  I glanced at my watch. The luminous hands read two a.m. A car engine roared to life in the distance. Then all was quiet.

  Was Nick coming back? I waited, unmoving, knowing what I had to do. When five minutes had passed, I sprang into action.

  The key to Nick’s apartment lay on an end table in my living room. I grabbed the key and a flashlight from the kitchen. If Nick came back and caught me, I could always say I heard Noche bark and thought he needed to go out.

  As I slowly opened the door, Noche nuzzled my hand and yipped, still excited with all the late-night activity. “Shhh. Quiet. Good boy.”

  Inside the apartment, I flipped on my small flashlight and crept to the closet, but when I tried the knob, it held firm. Locked. I tried the door key, but it didn’t fit. What could be so valuable Nick needed to lock the closet? I shined the light around the edges of the door, then got down on the floor and tried to peer under the gap at the bottom, but the carpenters had done their work well. Then I spotted something.

  At first I thought it was some leaves and twigs one of the men had tracked in. Then my mind flashed back to our New Orleans trip and the ICE men. I thought of all the trips Nick had made to Mexico. Sherlock Holmes would be proud of me. Using my deductive reasoning, I knew what I was looking at. I’d seen it in the movies. Acapulco Gold. Mary Jane. Weed. Marijuana.

  Nick was a drug smuggler.

  Chapter Nineteen

  If Nick’s love for Babe hadn’t been enough to convince me he was the wrong man for me, I now had tangible evidence. Out of all the losers I’d fallen for, none had turned out to be drug dealers. I imagined myself, baby on my hip, visiting Nick in Huntsville State Prison, surrounded by barbed wire and armed guards. My brain told me I had to quit visualizing myself with Nick at all. My heart was having a harder time letting go. I gathered the dried stems and leaves and returned to my apartment. About an hour later, I heard Nick’s door open and close, followed by Noche’s excited barking.

  Should I tell the Espositos about Nick’s nocturnal activities? Did Berto know? Was Nick working for Berto? I prayed it wasn’t so for Carmen’s sake. I finally fell into a fitful sleep and awoke early the next morning with a sleep-debt hangover.

  After three cups of strong coffee, my head began to clear. Then came the knock on my door. I peeked out a window. Nick stood outside looking rested and carefree, his hair still wet from a shower. Damn. I hadn’t showered, my hair was a mess, and I was still in my nightgown and robe.

  I opened the door a few inches. “Hi, Sunshine.” Evidently the man didn’t need sleep the way I did. Another strike against him.

  “Don’t Sunshine
me,” I said, scowling.

  He drew his head back in mock affront. “Sorry. Just trying to be pleasant. I thought you might be glad to see me since we won’t be housemates much longer.”

  “We aren’t housemates now,” I grumbled, avoiding his eyes. I was in no mood for pleasantries. “So how was Mexico?”

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” I didn’t answer but opened the door wider. He walked in and made himself comfortable on my couch, stretching his long legs out as if he lived there. “Let’s just say it was a productive trip.”

  No kidding. I wondered about the street value of a closet full of marijuana.

  The time for games was over.

  “Listen, Nick. I know what’s going on. I might be a little slow, but I’m not stupid.”

  He looked perplexed. With his acting skills, he should go to California. He and Babe could star together in a soap opera.

  “You could have been truthful with me from the start. Was that too much to ask?”

  He pulled his legs in and sat up straight. “You have a lot of nerve talking about the truth. What about Philip? What about your house in Abilene? You call that being truthful?”

  “I didn’t lie.”

  His eyes looked sad. “No, but you led me to believe you had a boyfriend and that you were a mere vet tech.”

  “Wait a minute.” I started to steam. “What do you mean by mere? There’s nothing lowly or shameful about what I do. That’s more than I can say for you. I know what’s in your closet.”

  His face seemed to pale. I remained standing and smiled, knowing I’d finally touched a nerve.

  “How could you possibly know?”

  “I was outside last night when you brought it in. I saw you.”

  He stood, walked over to me, and put his hands on my shoulders. His denim eyes darkened and burned into mine. “You were spying on me?”

  I shrugged. “You gave me the key. And Noche needed out.”

  Nick raised an eyebrow.

  I raised one of mine, mimicking him. “So I was snooping.”

  “But the closet was locked.”

  “Let’s just say I saw evidence of the evidence.”

  He squinted at me and shook his head. “Someone must have really screwed you around for you to be so suspicious of men.”

  I ignored his observation, folded my arms across my chest, and took a deep breath. “What would Carmen say if she knew?”

  He pushed away from me. “Surely you wouldn’t stoop that low. Would you? Ruin everything for her? I thought you had more integrity than that.”

  “You’re talking to me about integrity?”

  I turned away from him, but he grabbed my arm and made me look at him. This time his eyes pled. “Please, promise you won’t say anything.”

  I jerked away. “I suppose Berto knows all about your activities?”

  “Of course he knows.” Nick’s words were clipped. “And he won’t be happy if you tell Carmen, so don’t do something you’ll regret.”

  Before I could reply, he stormed out the door, shutting it hard behind him.

  Was he threatening me? With that in mind, I decided the news could wait. I had no desire to sleep with the fish in Lake Waco.

  That afternoon, I worked the dogs for the last time, but my heart wasn’t in it. I would miss them. They’d been the only constant this whole month. Afterward, I walked up to the big house so Carmen could brief me on her party plans. From the number of people working at the house that day, you’d have thought a marriage was in the works, not a dog party.

  Carmen stood at the foot of a ladder near the main staircase, issuing instructions on where to hang colored lights. When she saw me, she smiled and wiped her hands on an old towel. “Mi hijo is coming from New York!” she said excitedly. “Our son, Bobby.”

  Bobby and Barbi. You didn’t get more American than that. Bobby’s arrival must be the big surprise.

  “You’re going to love him. He’s so smart. And handsome.” She eyed me suggestively, making me laugh.

  I thought about Nick and Babe. “And much younger than I am.” Older men, younger women—no one gave it a second thought. But older women and younger men—it happened, but the social stigma still existed.

  Carmen confirmed my thinking. “You don’t have a younger sister, do you?”

  “Hate to disappoint you. I’m the baby.”

  Carmen continued chattering, mainly about Bobby’s success at his Wall Street job. I tuned out, my thoughts straying back to Nick’s closet and how to tell Carmen about the drugs. By now I’d convinced myself Berto’s entire fortune had been built around drugs, the imported furniture business serving as a front for laundering dirty money. That’s how it worked in the movies.

  I would wait till after the party to tell Carmen, but I did intend to tell her. Why spoil her fun for this one night? My news would keep. Nick was right about that.

  Carmen hugged me excitedly, then explained her plans. To kick off the party, she and I would parade down the main staircase with Noche and Blanco, while the mariachi band played a fanfare of some sort. She swore she could handle Blanco with her uninjured hand. I could lead Noche, since he was the more spirited of the two.

  She was too excited to notice my disinterest. Nick’s activities had dampened my spirits to the point I was no longer in the mood to show off the tricks I’d taught the dogs, but if anyone deserved a night of happiness, it was Carmen. I would do it for her. Besides, when I dropped the drug bomb on Sunday, her life would never again be the same.

  After Philip’s pool therapy, during which I saw no sign of Nick, I spent the rest of the afternoon in my apartment, cradling Philip in my arms. Around five, someone knocked on the door. Hoping it wasn’t Nick, I got up quietly and peered through the window. Carmen stood outside.

  As soon as I opened the door, she grabbed my hand and, over my protests, began pulling me with her toward the big house. “Come with me. No questions.”

  I followed, dumbfounded. When we got to the house, she led me upstairs to her bedroom to a walk-in closet with an adjoining dressing room the size of a small bedroom. She eyed me up and down, then ordered me to strip to my underwear and started pulling dresses from their hangers. “You’re a little taller, but other than that, we’re the same size. That means these will be shorter on you, but that will work. You’ve got great legs. I’ll bet you haven’t even thought about what to wear tonight, have you?”

  “I do have a dress.”

  Carmen whipped a frothy crimson gown off its hanger and tossed it on a chair. “Let me guess—yours is plain and black.”

  “Yeah. But it’s all-purpose.”

  “Not tonight. Tonight, you’re going to wear something special. Something bright. This is a party, not a funeral.”

  Carmen ignored my reluctance to play dress up, and I was too depressed to fight her. I tried on at least five different dresses until she settled on a very short yellow number with sequined spaghetti straps and a little flounce at the bottom. “That’s it,” she announced. “Look at yourself in the mirror and tell me that’s not sexy. It goes great with your new tan.”

  The dress was beautiful and fit perfectly, but the face staring back at me looked tired and glum.

  Next, Carmen moved to a wall full of shelves holding a collection of shoes Imelda Marcos would envy. “Slip these on,” she said, handing me a pair of black sandals with three-inch heels and an ankle strap.

  “Berto calls these my fuck-me shoes.”

  Despite my mood, I laughed. The only shoes I owned these days were of the fuck off variety. “Carmen, no way can I walk in those!”

  “You’ll have to learn. You want to look nice for Nick, don’t you?”

  “For Nick? Whatever gave you that idea?”

  She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I’m not blind. I see how he looks at you. Why do you play so hard to get? Nick isn’t the kind of man women pass up, given the chance. And Nick doesn’t give many women a chance.”

  “But
you said he’s a ladies’ man.”

  “No, I said women are crazy about Nick. I could count on one hand the ones he’s gone out with since we’ve known him. Since Sandy left him.”

  “Sandy?”

  “His fiancée. Five years ago. She suddenly decided she didn’t want to live in Texas and moved back to Pennsylvania. Nick’s business was here, but she hated everything about Texas—the heat, the people. It was a bad match from the start, but after he lost his mother—Mrs. Worthington—he was lonely. When Sandy left, he kind of gave up on women.”

  But what about Babe? Was it possible Carmen didn’t know? I certainly wasn’t going be the one to tell her. My news of his drug dealing would be a big enough blow.

  She pulled a bag from a shelf, stuffed the dress and shoes in it and thrust it at me. “You’re different from most women he meets, but if you don’t give him some encouragement, he’s going to give up.”

  “Did Nick tell you that?” I felt a small glimmer of hope, but Carmen quickly extinguished it.

  “No, I have a feeling about these things.”

  “Ha. That’s where you’re wrong. Nick is not interested in me. I know he’s your friend, but men like him aren’t the kind to get serious about. They only lead you on for the challenge, then dump you.”

  “Julie. I keep telling you, you’re good with dogs, but you’re terrible when it comes to judging men.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  Poor Carmen. So naïve. I hoped she wouldn’t shoot the messenger when I told her about the drugs.

  That evening I hobbled up the walkway to the house in Carmen’s fuck-me shoes, wearing the yellow dress with the flounce at the bottom. Strains of Mexican ballads wafted through the night air, filling me with a deep melancholia. Despite all the craziness of Waco, I’d felt more alive here than I had in years. Life in Abilene seemed drab by comparison.

  As I approached the house, I was shocked at the number of people. There must have been a hundred outside, in addition to those in the main living area. Two large doors opened out into the backyard where tables, laden with enough food to feed a small country, had been set up to accommodate the overflow. Everything from Rosa’s special turkey tamales to flautas, shrimp, and guacamole. A chocolate fountain stood in the center with large strawberries and other fruit for dipping.