Ch 7, The Benefit of the Doubt
Pote brought a woman of about 35 years, as thin as he was heavy, with brightly bleached hair and heavy makeup. Pote liked them blonde and skinny! Noted! James was not impressed; on the contrary wondered how much business Pote discussed with her, because she did work at the depot of the Luciano guy.
The fiesta place was called 'Aire Ke Respiro', spelled exactly like that, as if making a joke with Spanish spelling, to which comment Teresa just smiled and assured James that everything inside was 'right'.
George, Bilal and the other four Somalis showed up for not more than 15 minutes and left for 'another type' of bar to the sleazy part of town. According to Teresa 'another' just meant 'jazz', which made both Pote and James look at each other suspiciously.
As Nora hung onto Pote's arm most of the time, James didn't bother engaging in anything but a general conversation and focused on sipping his drink. When the women went to the dance floor to mix with the crowd, James could feel Pote wanting to talk. And he finally ventured: "Thanks for taking care of her!"
"You're welcome!" James didn't feel like opening up just because he had decided to return Pote's text in the wee hours of the night to tell him Teresa had been with him.
"I know you don't like me…", Pote added, and James raised his eyebrows. "And I gotta apologize to her for the…ahh…cooking incident…but I have my doubts and that's what makes me a good judge of character!"
James laughed outright: "I see…and I know you don't trust me…but I didn't betray you or her…and she trusts me now…so you can lighten up!"
"I have…I'm sitting here with you, aren't I?…Not doubting your intentions!" Pote grumbled.
"My intentions are good!", James wasn't sure how that slipped and as expected Pote grumbled again: "Are you already proposing?….'Cause I'm not her father!"
James stood up taking his smokes out, which was a clear indication where he was going.
After two more drinks Nora had dragged Pote on the dance floor as the Latin song "Nostalgia" by Taburete (Nostalgia (Live) - YouTube Music ), that had always been a hit came on. To James's surprise Pote knew the salsa steps just as well as he knew to cook. Nora didn't fall behind in her skill and Teresa told him her father was Spanish.
"This rhythm reminds me of country music block dancing…the way it's done in the wild… wild west of Lone Star State!" James mused.
As Teresa only raised her eyebrows, he explained: "Everyone lines up in several lines and follows the same steps…something like a Macarena dance!"
This brought a light of recognition to Teresa's face, and she said: "If they do this here, are you gonna dance with me?"
James smiled and shrugged as Teresa disappeared into the crowd. A few songs afterwards they played a Mexican song ''Llorar" by Los Socios del Ritmo (Llorar - YouTube Music) and the people on the dance floor lined up exactly like James had described the country block dance he had seen in country pubs in Texas.
To his surprise Teresa appeared from the crowd and pulled him by the hand onto the dance floor, where he could see Pote and Nora two lines in front of them ready to bounce.
Teresa told him to follow the lead's steps or just her steps, if it was easier, and as the music kept flowing, James got the rhythm and the simple steps and let go with the flow.
Whenever he would catch Teresa's eyes, they were full of life and happiness, and he felt his heart flutter with excitement. Until on one turn his gaze spotted the woman from the Rib fest, dressed the exact same way, just the beanie hat was missing. She was dancing two lines behind them but was positioned to have a clear line of vision on them. His heart plunged, constricted and his mind went into its soldier mode. He missed a few steps and had difficulty getting the rhythm back, so when the song ended and applause filled the air, he was glad to go back to their table.
He didn't see the woman till the end of the evening. As soon as Pote and his date left, he told Teresa he felt like calling it a night.
They walked hand in hand in the cool night and as other people around them were leaving too, Teresa stared at the shiny outfits of the girls and felt a little embarrassed by her jeans, T-shirt and sneakers, the same outfit she had worn the other day.
Suddenly she wished she had gone to her apartment to put makeup on or done something ot her hair…because it felt like a date. She caught herself wishing her sneakers were new and chic instead of these standbys, meant not to attract attention and be easy to run in; she wished her top had spangle on it and looked more sophisticated than domesticated.
She looked up at James and wished he looked less mouthwatering and less 'bad boy', who seemed not to care she didn't wear a sparkling revealing outfit, and who had had eyes only for her the whole evening. That's when she realized that with James, she could be who she was; there was no need to pretend, to dress up or to worry how she looked.
So, she said: "I know I should go back to my place to …ahh…change…but I really don't want to…But if I'm imposing…then I'll go!"
James seemed startled. Then he said a brief 'no, definitely no' and in a minute added: "You wouldn't need clothes now, would you Teresa? In my place?...And if you do… you can borrow that shirt again!"
Teresa felt light on her feet as he unlocked the door for her and told her he'd be back in 20 as he wanted to buy chips, smokes and other supplies from the 24-hour convenience store down the corner. She was sure he had gone to get condoms and, smiling to herself hopped in the shower.
Rosita had been prepared that Mendoza's man could be dangerous, but as she looked in his angry eyes, while his steely arms held her immobilized in the dark corner, she felt fear riding in her chest.
She didn't miss the jolt of surprise the man couldn't hide when he saw she was young, practically a teen.
"Who sent you?" James said through his teeth.
Rosita had been paid well but had no intention of dying for the woman across the ocean. Besides, she had already given her the addresses of the two apartments where she had spotted Mendoza. Rosita had hoped to find out more about her associates; that's why she had followed her in the evening.
She clearly remembered her brother-in-law from Culiacan saying over the phone that the woman across the ocean was 'very powerful', so Rosita decided to spare her attacker the truth that the information had already reached its target. Stalling seemed like the only possible option: "I don't know her name!" Rosita said.
"HER name? It's a woman!" the man repeated.
"So, Camila Vargas is on to us!" he said more to himself than to Rosita. At this moment the girl used his stance that had relaxed, turned sideways, kicked him viciously between the legs and pulled herself out of his grip.
"Wrong move!" James scrambled to his feet and ran after her. He caught up with her in a dark alley a block away and this time her eyes, darting left and right, scared him. He stared at her and repeated: "That was a wrong move!"
She visibly cringed with fear and her eyes reflected the ones of Suzie, the 6-year-old that had sung him a song and played with him, and then had run into the blaze, deaf to his cries to stop. He felt his lips form the word 'no' as he was losing focus. His trained peripheral vision registered the spy girl trying to escape again.
His face lost color. His stomach took a nosedive as his arm flung forward and made contact with her body. She was not only young, but athletic and obviously had some self-defense training as she took the blow but stayed upright. There was a quiver on the right side of her mouth like she was fighting back tears: "I don't want to die for her!". The words rumbled off the girl's chest.
James's head gears were churning again. The anger swelled, pressing against his skull. His heart plummeted down a dark shaft because he knew he had to kill that young woman, as she had followed them and would tell Camila their whereabouts, but all he could see was Suzie's cute smile and bright big eyes. Eyes, that were shut forever because of him.
His eyes got the sucker punched look, which made the spy girl execute a direct frontal assault and take him by surprise again.
James was certain it was the years of training, not his brain, that kicked in, took over and made him pin her to the wall, hands tight behind her back. He could hear his heavy breathing and her whimpers.
However, he knew that subtle interrogation would get him squat, so he said, trying to sound scary: "You got two choices here! Choice one, you tell me exactly what that woman knows and promise that you would talk to her in two days' time…Choice two, I kill you here and now!"
The girl turned her head and gave him a stunned look. It was a bluff, but it was a good one and it drew blood as if she doubted his abilities. She shivered and said: "My husband said that woman was scary…and you're poking your nose where it doesn't belong…no one goes against De La Pena and his allies!"
James exhaled a deep breath he had been holding: "Do you know if she is in cahoots with De La Pena?"
"If I tell you, I choose option one and you let me go!" The girl seemed to have gotten her bearings.
"And you show me your ID now, and swear you keep quiet for two days!...Because I will come back and find you!" James's brain was estimating they would clear Malta in two days tops, as long as he was able to get the needed time!
He had to make it work as he was so afraid of failing Teresa!
He was hitting the bottom as he felt his hands were shaking. His hands! He was always calm and composed, and on top of his game! And he realized his soul was praying the girl really had taken the deal, because he knew his hands wouldn't have the wherewithal to crush her neck as he had done to Diane Douglas back in Dallas just a few weeks ago.
James looked flushed and hurried as he unlocked the front door and threw the keys at the table. He dragged his hand nervously over his face, which to Teresa signaled the need to intervene. And as she had negligently put on his shirt, without buttoning more than two buttons, she got to a few inches in his space and took his hands in hers.
His mind was obviously on something else than what she had planned for them, so she had to act fast and before he knew it, she had pulled his body onto hers and her mouth was grazing his.
"I can't stop thinking about us!" she whispered in his mouth. "About last night…!" She undid the two buttons on the shirt and let it open, as her hands dragged his on her ribcage. He exhaled shakily and felt her hands, guiding his to her sides.
"You know…you got the hottest hands and I want them on me, like this...", and she kept moving hers over his as he took a forced breath and squeezed his eyes.
"What's wrong?" Teresa saw his face and froze as if struck by lightning. James's reaction to her seduction was very much off and she was shocked out of her lustful moment.
He stuttered: "Me...being here...is what's wrong…Me being in your life and your biz!" The woman he loved wanted him and was plainly seducing him, and he could take her in a split second but how would he tell her afterwards he hadn't had the strength to remove the threat to her person and her dearly earned business...to tell her she was lusting after a coward? A grunt of pain escaped his chest.
"What?" Teresa didn't pull back, but her hands kept squeezing his as he pulled them from her ribcage.
Unsure how, but he got hold of his emotions and said with a more stable voice: "We are blown here! Camila had someone follow us and we have two days to leave!"
"How exactly did this …ahh…happen?" Teresa wrapped his shirt around her body as he lit a smoke and told her about the spy girl and the deal, he had made with her.
"Do you believe her?" Teresa said as she was getting in her jeans.
"Not really…that's why I'd like to clear tomorrow at latest…but the only other option was to…ahh…", he was looking for a synonym of 'kill', but Teresa interjected:
"I understand…no need for collateral damage…I'm calling Pote and then George!"