by John Silver
It was easy to get them to leave with him after a couple of drinks. He had a rule if he had doubts about killing them. If they touched him, they died. Some were subtle and deceptively innocent, like holding his hand and squeezing it after he said something. Some were less subtle, touching a foot against his and leaving it there. Some were bold, running a hand up his inner thigh…whores…
…The man tossed the shovel into his truck and loaded Jason's body in the back of the pickup, covering it with the green blanket. He got in Jason's truck, started it and drove toward the Juarez-El Paso border. A short way from the border, on the western edge near the base of the mountains, the man pulled onto Nadadores Street and stopped at the dead end near the storage yard. He pulled Jason's body from the back of the pickup and placed him next to the cab on the driver's side, leaving the door open. He rifled through Jason's pockets and the pickup cab. He took Jason's Glock, wallet, badge, watch, and an old 1923 Peace silver dollar that was in Jason's pocket. He rubbed the coin between his fingers and took a final glance at Jason. Satisfied it looked like an ambush or robbery, he turned and walked toward Escobara.
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