El Casamentero de Los Angeles by JuliaBC
Chapter Five
When Zorro crept through Garcia's window that night, he was very surprised to find that the sergeant was still awake; still awake and clutching a saber in his hand as he watched the window.
"Aha! Do not move, Senor Zorro. I have you surrounded," Garcia said, jumping to his feet and letting the point of his sword touch the outlaw's chest.
Zorro, expecting a much warmer welcome than this, was too surprised to reach for his own sword in time.
"What is this, Sergeant Garcia? I thought I was helping you."
"You aren't," Garcia said. "The flowers ruined me."
"Did not Clara like them?" Zorro asked helplessly.
"Si, she did! No, she didn't," Garcia corrected himself. "She went absolutely demente over them! I have never seen Clara act like that, and then Senorita Nina tells me she is going to marry me, and a strange lady came by the cuartel so right now, Senor Zorro, as much as it matters to any not in the Spanish Army, I am ill with la gripe and unless you wish to be infected, I suggest you do not return!"
Shocked, Zorro merely let Garcia shoo him out of his office and rode home. Once there, he did not bother changing, or even going to the secret cave.
Magdalena bolted upright in bed when a masked figure vaulted over the balcony and into her room.
"What are you doing?" She scolded. "You might have scared me."
"But I did not?" Zorro asked, and continued the conversation by taking his hat and mask off.
"Your conversation did not go well?" Magdalena asked, slipping from the bed to take his things. "What about Tornado?"
"I left him in the canyon and took Torcedor to the balcony," Zorro responded. "I wanted to surprise you."
She scoffed, a faint blush on her cheeks as she helped him undress. "What about Garcia?"
"He kicked me from his office," Diego said simply, the last vestiges of Zorro fading away so that only her husband remained. "I had not even spoken yet when he leaped from his bed and pointed a saber at my chest."
"His instincts have gotten better?"
"He was waiting for me," Diego replied, his voice dry. He sat on the bed while Magdalena padded over to the secret passage, pressed the mantel and entered. He waited as she hung his things up, then gently grabbed her waist when she returned.
They sank into the bed, Diego was about to kiss her, when a furious pounding on the door interrupted them.
"I tell you, Inez, I will not tolerate this sort of behavior!" Francisco said, exasperated. "You married my brother, and I will not let you disgrace his memory like this."
"What is wrong with dressing up a little?" Inez protested, hands on her hips.
Magdalena watched the conversation amusedly. You'd almost think it was her he was criticizing. Growing up, she would never have thought Inez would ever be on the receiving end of an angry tirade. Especially not from her father. Francisco was one of the most gentle and patient men Magdalena knew, and she treasured her papa for it.
But por los santos! She had never seen him react as strongly as he had upon discovering his cuñada in the tavern at two in the morning.
She rubbed a still sleepy eye, and walked over to place a hand on her father's arm. "Papa, no one saw her, no one recognized her!"
"That does not make anything better," he grumbled, but when he covered her hand with his own, she knew the argument was won. "I think Inez should stay here until the masquerade, and until San Valentin's feast has passed. It makes fools of too many."
Above her protests, Francisco swept from the hacienda, leaving a disgruntled Inez with Magdalena.
"I think I am your chaperone now," Magdalena said amusedly, and Inez simply blushed.
"Now, please tell me why you were in the tavern," she pleaded, walking over.
"Like I already said, no one recognized me!" Inez protested. "I was disappointed, so I wanted something...sweet to drink."
"You were disappointed at two in the morning?"
"Well, confidentially," Inez began, leaning closer and lowering her voice. "This stays between us, but I was there since the angelus hour the previous night!"
She leaned back, arms crossed in a sign of rebellion, and Magdalena couldn't laugh at her aunt.
The masquerade seemed to be flying closer.
Magdalena and Diego had decided to surprise each other at it to create mystery; they both kept their costumes secret and Diego was to leave before she did.
She was looking forward to it. She hoped that Diego would recognize her soon, and that she'd be able to identify him in what she knew would be a sea of men.
The dress slid silkily over her fingers as Senora Rocío finished the alterations. The seamstress finished, and stood up with a sigh, pressing a hand to her lower back.
"Does it satisfy?" She asked.
Looking in the mirror, Magdalena knew it did. "It's beautiful," she said. "I know we already agreed on the price, but I think you worked hard enough to merit much more."
A hand on her pregnant belly, Rocío jerked it back down. "Do you mean that?"
"Of course," Magdalena reassured, as a maid came to help her out of the dress. "I know of many costureras in Mexico City that could not do as good a job as you just did."
Rocío took the offered purse with surprised hands, hands that quickly opened the bag and gasped at the contents. "Dona Magdalena, this is...!"
Dressed back in her street clothes, Magdalena waited as her costume was packaged. "De nada. Just answer one question. Did you make my aunt's dress?"
"Si, I did," Rocío said, slipping the purse away. "Very complicated. I liked yours, since it was such a simple design."
Magdalena nodded. "Muchos gracias."
After she left, Senora Rocío slipped into the back room. When she saw who waited for her there, she inhaled a gasp of horror.
In moments, for she knew it was better to not fight him, her visitor had left, bearing the precious pesos she'd been given to feed her fatherless children.
Rocío threw a vase at the wall and held back the bitter tears that threatened to fall.
"Si, I'd like to see the commandante!" Diego repeated to Private Delgado.
"You cannot," the Private replied, squinting at him through the hole in the gate. "He has la gripe. No visitors allowed. We are in quarantine."
"Now, Private, you and I both know that the Sergeant is not sick in the least," Diego said impatiently.
"We do?" Delgado blinked. "I did not know that. He made a quick recovery, didn't he, Don Diego?"
"Very quick," Diego growled. "May I see him now?"
"No," Delgado replied, and shut the hatch.
Diego turned away from the door, exasperated, and stalked back to where Bernardo waited with the horses. "Sergeant Garcia is keeping his masquerade going," he told him. "He still insists he is sick. I don't understand it. At the rate he's going, he will completely miss Don Marcos' San Valentin masquerade."
Bernardo signed something.
"Si, I did talk to him as Zorro, and got a few answers then, but nothing that would prompt Garcia to miss a night of wine, music, wine, ladies, wine, dancing..."
Bernardo moved his hands again. "Si, and wine too." Diego added. They both laughed, but Diego's laugh was short lived when he looked back at the closed cuartel.
"I'm worried about him," he confided. "Wait here just a moment."
As he turned away from the horses, heading down the small, shop lined street, someone collided with him.
He only barely caught the woman's arms in time, and her belly collided with his flat stomach. She was embarazada. And crying.
"Senora Rocío," he said, surprised. Careful, he held her tightly until she'd regained her balance.
"Buenos dias, Don Diego," she muttered. "Please, I am in a hurry."
"What is the matter?" He asked, fishing in his pockets for a handkerchief and handing it to her.
She took it reluctantly but didn't speak.
"Is it one of your children?" He asked, voice gentle.
"I was just remembering my husband," she finally said. "It's been almost six months now. I don't know how I'll manage without him when I have another little one." She rubbed her stomach, then held the handkerchief out.
"Keep it," he urged and she drew her hand back to herself. "You know you'd be alright. Why, my wife would never go anywhere else, and I think she mentioned plans to give you a bonus."
Surprising him, Rocío's eyes darkened. "Si. A very big bonus," she said, with anger and sarcasm in her voice.
Before he could stop her, she broke away from him and continued her path down the street. Diego ran back to the horses. "I need to talk to Magdalena," he told Bernardo. "I'll tell you what Senora Rocío said while we are on the road."
Bernardo was just as confused as Diego, and signed that he knew Magdalena had gone to the dressmaker's today.
"I wonder if she didn't pay," Diego said, frowning. "Otherwise, I truly don't know what might prompt Senora Rocío to such hysterics."
They reached the hacienda in good time, and Diego wasted no time in finding Magdalena.
Inez was with her, in the sala.
"Diego, how good to see you!" She cried, jumping to meet him. "Have you seen Sergeant Garcia at all?"
"Aunt Inez," he greeted. "Pardon, but I must speak to Magdalena."
"Of course," Inez said, but only sat down again. She watched the two expectantly.
"We are married," Diego said impatiently. "It's no longer necessary to chaperone us."
"Oh, I know," Inez said complacently. When she still didn't leave, Diego took Magdalena by the hand and led her into the study.
He wasn't surprised to see her covering her hand with her mouth to stifle the laughter that was trying to burst out.
"What is Inez doing here?" Diego asked.
"Remember last night?" Magdalena said.
"Your father came by," he said, not knowing anything else since he'd fallen asleep by the time she'd made it back upstairs.
"With Inez," Magdalena said, and explained the situation.
Diego looked completely flabbergasted. "She was where, at what time?"
"She is not allowed to leave our hacienda until after San Valentin's feast," Magdalena explained.
Diego resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "The things that happen when Inez is around..."
"Why did you need to speak to me in private?" Magdalena asked, placing a hand on his arm. "And why are you so tense? Are the two related?"
"Si," he said, and drew her down onto the step beside him. "Did you go see Senora Rocío today?"
Magdalena stiffened. "I thought we agreed to keep our costumes secret."
"We did, it doesn't have to do with that," Diego said.
"Well, I saw her," Magdalena answered.
"Did you pay her?"
Magdalena's eyes widened, then flashed with anger. "What kind of questioning is this, Diego? Do you think I am stealing from you? Si, I gave her a bit more, but if it bothers you, I can get the money somewhere else!"
"Calm down," Diego said, but Magdalena was standing.
"I will not calm down," she said. "You just accused me of—"
"I accused you of nothing!" Diego protested. "But Senora Rocío seemed to be of the opinion that she hadn't been paid yet, and I thought to check."
His only answer was the slam of the study door behind Magdalena.
When El Zorro rode that night, he made a very restless rider.
Tornado could sense his master's distraction, and more than once, Zorro only barely caught himself from slipping off.
"I'm sorry, Tornado," he whispered, sliding from the horse's back once they reached Senora Rocío's window. "I should be paying better attention to you."
Tornado turned his face away in response and Zorro sighed to realize that no matter who he spoke with, they'd be angry with him.
Holding the purse of money close, he slipped through the small window of Rocío's house. He only barely fit through, and bumped his head on an overhanging flower pot as he straightened.
He was surprised to see that Rocío was still up, or had meant to be. She sat in a chair next to a smoldering fire, the makeshift weapon of a rodillo in her hands.
What has been happening to her? He wondered, cursing himself for not recognizing signs of trouble before now.
Outside, he heard Tornado nicker nervously, but ignored the noise as he stepped closer to Rocío and she jerked awake.
"Senor, go—Zorro!" She gaped at him, then burst out crying. "Senor, why has it taken you so long?"
"I am sorry, Senora, I was too busy being selfish," he said. "What has been happening to you?"
"He has!" She said. "Every day, almost, he comes and demands payment."
"Who is he? Why on earth would you pay him?" Zorro asked. "What can he possibly hold over you?"
He watched with a small measure of pride when she took out the handkerchief he'd given her as Diego, and used it to wipe her face.
"I don't know who he is," she gasped. "But he first appeared two weeks again, and placed a knife at my sleeping child's throat. I—I had to give it to him!"
"Give what?"
"The payment for Dona Inez's dress," she explained. "It was so much."
Zorro leaned over her, his expression fierce. "Senora Rocío, I apologize for taking so long. This is something that I should have known about long ago, if I'd only been paying proper attention. I promise you that I will catch him and return your money to you. In the meantime, take this."
She took the small purse with hands that were wet with tears. "Gracias, Senor. I will pay you back if you catch him."
"Si, you will pay me back when I catch him," he soothed, and disappeared into the night.
It occurred to him that a few other people had been acting strange lately too.