Baja Blues: The Boy Who Played With Marbles (Liza McNairy Mysteries Book 2)

by Dan Glover

  "Please, Padre... you must save my child... she has been taken by the devil."

  These poor peasants and their superstitions. The girl was no more possessed by Satan than her father was possessed by the alcohol he drank nightly. Yet what of the bad thief? Was he not also possessed? And if Christ was truly an exorcist, why didn’t He cast out the demon that the man might die a penitent?

  "Have I committed such sins only through my own folly?"

  There was no answer nor did he expect one. The tired old portrait of Jesus Christ seemed especially tattered today... the grime of ages soiling the face and the humidity causing the features to smear. Were those tears streaking His face? What was he doing praying to an old painting he'd salvaged from the dump? But no, that wasn’t where his words were directed.

  God heard all, saw all. He must know the travails of one Fabulinus Fletch, His own exorcist... the one charged with casting out the unholy from those misbegotten souls who'd run afoul of demons and imps. Yet could he be certain? That was the question that so vexed him at times like these... when the end seemed near and yet impossibly far away too.

  Perhaps he should warn the girl before she had a chance to use the contaminated drugs doled out by Arturo. Yet in doing so, wouldn’t he be reneging on the promise he made to God and to the Son? Let the child sleep and in her repose the Lord would gather her into His arms and heal her sins. Either that, or the devil would have his due. Did it really matter one way or the other?

  Arturo was an artist... a man blessed with a God-given talent. That he had to earn a living went without saying. Even a thief had their redeeming qualities. And Arturo was always at the ready, prepared to sacrifice his time and even his soul in carrying out the deeds foisted upon him by a world broken and besmeared with heartache and sorrow.

  "Bring this child before me, Arturo... that I may lay hands upon her precious body to drive forth Satan."

  Chapter 38—Bullets

  (And Dragons)

  She wasn’t in the cabin when he returned even though they weren’t gone an hour. And it was clear she'd read the note he'd left as it lay crumbled on the nightstand. Did she do these things simply to aggravate him? Or was her mind in such a muddle from the smack that she could no longer function as a normal human being?

  The beaches were already crowded, the sun bearing down warm and disinterested with thunderheads forming purple and malignant in the west far out over the ocean. Though he walked up and down the shoreline he couldn’t spot her... had she gone to their secret place by herself?

  Then he saw the something man... heard him barking out his song... somethin' for de nose... somethin' for de head... and he knew. The man had sold Liza a bad batch of heroin. He'd dreamed the same scene only a night ago... saw her lying lifeless and hollow-eyed in the ravine just over the craggy outcroppings of rock that marked the end of one beach and the beginning of another... their secret place.

  He was a crow... no, a dragon. Flying so high in the air he couldn’t see the ground... only the endless expanse of sea rolling out below him blue and tremulous like the hide of some great sleeping beast. He'd fly to her but she'd be already dead... the warmth seeping from her body... blood running from her nose, down her chest, coagulating in a pool beneath her head, soaking that gorgeous blonde hair, turning it as red as that precious streak that she was so proud to wear.

  He should just do it now... take the gun he carried in his ankle holster and shoot himself... put the damned thing right into his mouth so there'd be no mistake. Do it right the first time, damn you. But first, perhaps he ought to put that bastard who killed Liza out of his everlasting misery... something for the nose, something for the head... a bullet for each, you chingada piece of shit.

  "Danners... what you doing out so early, buddy? I thought you slept till noon every day."

  The voice shocked him out of his resolve to end things. Just what he needed. Hank Lupo in the flesh. And who was the gorgeous woman he was with? Oh... Bernice Cooper... Jesus, he hadn’t realized how put together the woman actually was. Knowing she was Reilly's mother, he envisioned an old fat black woman with enormous breasts drooping down to her belly and an ass a mile wide. But Bernice was anything but.

  "I'm looking for Liza... have you seen her, Hank?"

  "No... I can't say that I have. You look worried though. Come on. Me and Bernie'll help you look for her."

  "Mr. Forthright... I hear tell that you're a psychic. Can't you find your partner by telekinesis or some such?"

  "No, I can't, Ms. Cooper. I don’t work like that."

  "Danners here has to dream his shit... right, my boy?"

  "Yeah... that's right, Hank. Could you please check the women's johns, Ms. Cooper?"

  "I'll doody do that for you, Mr. Forthright... right after we have ourselves some breakfast. Come on. Hank's buying."

  "No! Now! Liza's life is in danger."

  "I do believe he's serious, Bernie. Go on... please check the johns like he asked... we'll take a look around the area and meet back here in five minutes. Then we'll go to breakfast. Okay?"

  "Lord, you white boys sure know how to treat a girl. All right then. I'll be right back. And I'm expecting some special treatment later on. You know what I mean, Mr. Lupo."

  "Well... where do we look first, Danners?"

  "Those rocks just down the beach... I keep seeing her lying there... I'm not sure I can handle it if..."

  "Come on, big boy... I'll race you."

  Hank must've made it all of ten strides before he pulled up lame, leaned over, put his hands on his knees, and vomited into the sand.

  "Jesus... I didn’t realize how out of shape I am... tell you what, Danners... let's take our time. I'm right behind you."

  Not far down the beach he could see Reilly Cooper and Elena Stamper kicking up sand as they cantered toward them, a look of anxiety on the man's face. Had they inadvertently stumbled across Liza somewhere? And if so, was she still alive?

  "Where's my mother, Hank? I know you've been with her."

  Oh, thank Christ... Reilly was just worried about Bernice.

  "She's checking the lady's bathrooms for Liza... what, did you think we up and eloped on you, boy?"

  "I ain't no one's boy, boy."

  "Liza wasn’t in her cabin when we got back, Reilly. I need your help finding her. Can you cool it for just a minute?"

  "Sure, Danners... I'm sorry. It's just..."

  Bernice Cooper was waving at them from the veranda that overlooked the beach, motioning for them to hurry. He stuck a hand in his pocket and palmed the Naloxone. God, don't let them be too late.

  Chapter 39—Hungry Giants

  (With a Taste for Men)

  So here she was procuring heroin for the people she'd hired to find Eduardo's killer. What kind of stupid shit was that? She had to admit though... it was a beautiful morning to drive to Ensenada, the ocean undulating and blue on her left and the Pinacate volcanic fields barren and foreboding on the right.

  Would the warehouse still be there? She had no idea. It'd been fifteen years since she made the trip with Tortuga. But things stayed much the same in Mexico, even with the drug wars raging and the cartels fighting amongst each other for supremacy. Yep. As long as the Giant of the North was hungry, Mexico would keep supplying its ravenous appetite for drugs.

  Tortuga... he'd once been a beautiful young man full of life. Elena had loved him... at least as much as a seventeen year old girl was capable of doing. But he'd grown into mal hombre... a bad man, and not only on account of his dealing drugs to the Americans flocking to the beaches of Santo Tomas.

  "Wait here for me... these people don’t trust foreigners."

  The heroin available in the warehouse was cheap and potent and the men who sold it killers and worse. Would they remember her? Unlikely. That didn’t matter, as long as they remembered the name Tortuga. And if he was still dealing dope, she imagined the warehouse in Ensenada was where he was getting it.

  "¿Qué quieres, señorita?"


  "Ocho gramos de heroína, por favor."

  "Danos un nombre."

  "Tortuga."

  "Ah, si señorita. Muy bueno."

  That should be more than enough. Even if McNairy and Forthright were fiends, four grams should last them a week. By then, hopefully, the case would be solved, they'd be on their way home, and she'd have the satisfaction of knowing what had happened to her little brother all those years ago.

  Driving back to Santo Tomas she expected to see Forthright to at least sample the wares but the man merely tucked the package inside his pocket. So it wasn’t for him. Ah. McNairy was the junkie. She'd noticed something just a little off about the woman... a frailty of sorts. So that was it. Interesting.

  She'd gone ahead and tooted a line at the warehouse... just enough to tide her over until they got back to Santo Tomas... that and to alleviate any anxiety the boys might feel selling to a stranger. Plus now she had four grams for herself. No telling how much longer she'd be here and buying from Tortuga bothered her more than perhaps it should.

  It initially irritated her that these two supposed detectives were spending their time lounging on the beaches and snorting smack and all on her dime. Now, she was beginning to see that wasn’t the case at all. The drug use was more palliative. It was something the woman needed to maintain. Elena could appreciate that. In her case it was an endless stream of men... Reilly Cooper being only the latest.

  "Remember... you owe me, Danners."

  "You have no idea... Elena. You saved my life today. Whatever I can do to repay you, just ask."

  "Find out what happened to my brother. That’s all I want."

  She should've been there for him. Normally they rode the bus home together, and if she did decide to skip, she'd always make sure to be waiting at the stop for Eduardo. He was her responsibility... not because mother told her that, but because he was her brother. She'd all but raised him herself what with the hours mother worked at the resort... often double shifts... and all for nothing.

  It wasn’t right the way the employees were treated. She knew that now more than then... what with being married to the head honcho of the goddamned place. Johnny and his big bad daddy used the people of Santo Tomas like they were nothing... pawns to a pair of kings. Maybe that was why she took such delight in screwing the help behind her husband's slimy little back.

  She always felt so dirty afterwards. She'd go home and shower but nothing could wash away the shame. On the other hand, when Johnny found out, she wasn’t embarrassed in the least. Instead, she felt like a woman for the first time in her life... powerful and alive. Like today... walking into that seedy warehouse and purchasing the shit for McNairy and Forthright... and admit it, Elena... for yourself too.

  Maybe she'd missed her calling. Hell, with what she knew, she could start dealing. That little warehouse in Ensenada contained more drugs than a pharmacy, and the price was right too. Buy low. Sell high. Wasn’t that how capitalism worked?

  Back in the States she'd read how an epidemic was sweeping the nation... how heroin abuse was at an all time high, pardon the pun. Overdoses were the new norm. Even grade school kids were getting involved. Was the future really so bleak that everyone simply desired to zone out and forget about it? Yep.

  Chapter 40—Favors

  (And Debts)

  She just happened to see Fletch the letch standing on the veranda watching her make the proverbial furtive purchase from the something man... noticed a tiny smile crinkling the corners of his mouth. Why? What was it Danners had said in that note? Not to buy anything from the something man? Ah... so that was it. Fletch and the something man were in cahoots.

  She'd only bought a gram... just something to tide her over until they got back to Los Angeles. Now, she crumpled up the paper packet in the palm of her hand and let it drop into the ocean. What if Danners was mistaken? Didn’t matter. She learned long ago how it was better to listen to the man than to ignore him.

  When he noticed her watching him Fletch turned and walked into the nearby restaurant. She considered going back to the cabin and waiting for Danners but instead she followed the priest at a safe distance... far enough back that he wouldn’t realize how she was tailing behind him.

  Fletch took a table in one of the darkened corners of the room while she sat opposite him in a booth with its partition situated in such a way that he couldn’t spot her. Within a few minutes the something man appeared ambling down the aisle surveying the patrons of the restaurant until he spotted Fletch. Liza pulled the white sun sombrero Danners had given her down over her face so he wouldn’t spot her. The booth was close enough to Fletch that she could hear every word the two connivers spoke.

  "Did you do as I asked mi amigo?"

  "Si, Padre... esta hecho... you will have no more worries from la mujer."

  "I knew I could count on you. Muchas gracias, Arturo. I am forever in your debt."

  "As always, mi Padre, it is I who owe you. Still, may I ask a favor?"

  "Of course... Soy todo oídos."

  "Un amiga de mi amiga, Padre... el Diablo tiene ella. Can you help us once more?"

  "You know I can, mi amigo. You must bring her to me... bring her to La Iglesia de los Cinco ángeles. First, though, let us partir el pan."

  Friend of a friend my ass... these two were plotting another kidnapping. Where the hell was Danners when she needed him? She hadn’t thought to take her cell phone with her... hell, she only planned on buying some candy and going right back to the cabin. And she couldn’t get up and leave now... not without being spotted. But when Fletch and Tortuga left they'd walk right past her. One of them was bound to see her.

  She needed a diversion... someone to make some sort of scene, to distract Fletch and his partner long enough that she could make a getaway, find Danners, and get to that damned church in time to stop what was about to happen. Was that Bernice Cooper? If so, where was Hank Lupo? She thought those two were an item.

  If it wasn’t her, the woman would just think she was loco. If it was Bernice, it might be just the opportunity she was looking for. Taking a chance and waving to her, Liza managed to catch the woman's attention. Sure enough, it was Bernice.

  "There you are, girl! We're looking all over for you!"

  Jesus, what a fucking mouth. Maybe if she shouted just a little louder they might hear her all the way back in Los Angeles. At least she didn’t call her out by name. Probably forgot it by now what with all the fuckery going on.

  "Shhh, Bernice... whisper! These men sitting behind us are dangerous. Where's Danners? Where's Hank?"

  "Why... they're just outside. Did those two peccadilloes assault you? If they did..."

  "No... nothing like that, Bernice. I need you to find Hank. Tell him to come into this restaurant and cause a scene. Get loud with the staff. Create a diversion."

  "Be right back, sweetie."

  So what now? All she could do was to wait and pray that Fletch and Tortuga ate a hearty meal... to give Bernice enough time to find Hank. You don’t believe in that shit any more than I do, Lizzi. Yes, I know, sissy Lissi... a thousand kisses deep.

  Chapter 41—Lovely Hides

  (And Mind Readers)

  "She wants me to what?"

  "Oh, go on, darling... Liza needs your help."

  "Why can't Danners do it?"

  "They'll recognize me, Hank... I talked to Fletch not three days ago. If I go into that restaurant raising hell he'll see me and know something is up. Go on... don't be such a cunt."

  "And just what am I supposed to be all upset about, Bernie?"

  "Tell you what, honey... I'll go with you. We'll sit down at one of the tables. The glasses have spots on them... you know, from the dishwasher. You are an insensitive and irate American snob who can't stand shit like that on his goddamned dishes. Make that known in as loud a voice as you can. It'll work... believe me."

  "What if they call the police?"

  "We'll go your bail, Hank... don't worry darling. And besides, you might m
eet someone you like there... or somebody who likes you."

  "For ten cents I'd knock your false teeth right down your throat, Forthright."

  "Here's two nickels... look... rub them together... that makes ten... right, sweetie?"

  "Will you two boys kiss and make up? Liza's in trouble and all you're doing is acting like a couple of schoolyard bullies."

  "All right, Bernie... come on... let's do this thing."

  What the hell had Liza gotten herself into now? Christ. This was bad business. He was a deputy sheriff in Los Angeles but here he was just another crazy gringo. Odds were if he went into that restaurant screaming and shouting he'd be led out in handcuffs and showed to the nearest lockup. That was all he needed.

  Bernie was right. There were spots on the glasses. He hated that shit. They probably had some lowlife in the kitchen washing the dishes in day old bathwater and rinsing them with what they lovingly called agua pura... pure water, right. This was bullshit.

  "Hey! Camarero. Get your culo over here. Now!"

  Jesus... the whole restaurant was looking at him. And he hadn’t counted on the waiter being as big and as ugly as he was either. Why oh why did he ever get involved with McNairy and Forthright? He could be sitting on the beach sipping on a margarita and watching Bernie strut her stuff. Instead he was about to get pounded into the floor by Cisco the kid.

  "I'm sorry, senor... but this is a family restaurant. Please... I must ask you to leave."

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Liza making her exit, sombrero and all. According to Bernie she had followed a couple of perps into the restaurant and overheard them talking some shit. But she'd gotten herself into a spot. If she got up and left, they'd see her and know that she knew... and if she waited until they left, again, they'd see her.