Chapter 1 [Hotel de las Americas—Mexico City—Three Days After "Reactions"]
Celebration permeated the facility's banquet chambers. Debauchery and Vice had made their illicit rounds throughout the evening. Dancing, Drinking and Card Games echoed throughout. Toasts to triumphs past, present and future were exchanged.
But then again, such events did attract all sorts….
A lone man in a top hat and a fine suit strode across the fine carpet and tile floors. He'd step over the occasional overindulgent celebrant whose Siesta could not wait for a return to a room. A fat cigar puffed away under a dark mustache. Unlike many he had played with, the night had rewarded him in handsome fashion. He mused over his fat wallet. Perhaps he would give some money to his debtors….
…perhaps it would be time to leave town and find games elsewhere….
At least they could have sat down! He rolled his eyes. "Is there not any class any longer?" He started down the stairs. He knew a coach would be waiting for the train station. Perhaps he'd go to Veracruz? Acapulco's gaming tables held some profit.
His boots clopped down the polished stairs.
Just as he reached the glass doors, Don Fernando stormed into the lobby. Exhaustion reddened his eyes. Mood had soured. Defeat stung from the Cannons' and Montoyas' hands. Rafael suffered in the Gringos' prison in Tucson. Three more of his brothers laid akin to pobrecitos in the town's dirty excuse for a graveyard.
At least El Pavo Real Sebastian lay in that same exiled plot….
¡Haré ese Buck Cannon pague! Fernando spat on the fine floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other man. "Domingo."
"¿Don Fernando, cual es el problema? Soy un Don como Ud." Don Domingo straightened himself. Indignation curled his lip.
Fernando coughed. "Oh you have not heard then? Tu hermano está muerto. El rancho de tu familia es mío. Mi hermana y su esposo vivirán allí ahora. No eres Don." Menace crackled in his eyes.
Domingo raised an eyebrow. "One cannot simply evict a Don from their rancho. You cannot simply insult me, Don Fernando. I have done you no harm. Did I not lend you a rather large sum? You have not paid me."
Fernando's laugh echoed throughout the lobby's expanse. "You? You who owe all of Mexico City for your lifestyle call on me for a debt? I collected Honor's debt from your brother, Domingo. I will hang your nephew's carcass from the front wall of that Rancho."
"Do what you will. I have not spoken to them in years. Their affairs are their own. My affairs are mine." Domingo took a puff from his cigar. He blew it right in Fernando's face. "Instead of insulting me perhaps you should see to your own business? I knew Sebastian's jokes and schemes would do him in one day. That is why I could care less." He stuck the cigar back in his mouth. He sniffed and pushed through the glass door. He got in the carriage and headed for the train station.
Dispossession? Debt sagged on Domingo's shoulders. Despite Bravado's claims to the contrary, he knew that the City would hunt him down without that protective status. As much as he hated to do it, he had to head north…but not to Veracruz. Rumor whispered that his niece and nephew lived on a gringo ranch in America.
That is where he'd go….
Fernando watched the carriage roll away down the cobblestones. Indignation narrowed his eyes. Still Opportunity had dropped him the perfect foil. He knew Word leaked from city to city. Soon…very soon…Domingo wouldn't have a place to pitch a tent in Mexico. And then, the troublesome pest would head north toward his family.
Trojan horse anyone?