The Beasts of Juarez R.B. Schow (reading the story of the .TXT) 📖

kid walked outside with his friends, saw the damage to his Blazer, then stalked over to Scotty and said, “Where are the guys who did this?”

“They were lying on the ground about five feet from where you’re standing. Just follow the blood drops, maybe you’ll find them.”

“Man, they did a number on your car,” the blonde with the college idiot said.

“Yeah, well…”

“You should probably pay your bills better,” the brunette said.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked. “I can’t hear you through those thin lips.”

When his investigator, Jackson Burke, arrived to pick him up, he got in the car right away. “Thanks man, I owe you one.”

“You still owe me four grand for the last job. Should I put this on the tab?”

“I’m sorry about that, man,” Scotty said sheepishly. “Tough times these days.”

“If you added up all your bar bills and actually made good on the money you owe me, how much of a dent into the four grand do you think you’d make?”

“A sizable one,” he said.

“At least you still know how to tell the truth.”

“Yeah, I remember that much.”

“Do you have any jobs on the horizon?” Jackson asked.

“Not really. Last I spoke with Leopold, he said most of his work was internationally based, and since the borders were shut down and travel restricted, he’s been sitting on his hands.”

“The border is open now,” Jackson said. “It’s WIDE open if you talk to anyone working for Border Patrol.”

“Maybe we’ll get a call then,” he said.

“Let’s hope.”

Jackson pulled up to the curb in front of Scotty’s house and said, “What’s she going to do?”

“Carly?” he asked. Jackson nodded. “About the time, the blood, or me still being drunk?”

“All of the above.”

“Well, she can’t sleep with my friend again,” Scotty said. “So what do I care?”

“She can always sleep with your friend again,” Jackson said.

“He’s not my friend anymore, so if she’s still doing him, it’s just some dude she’s banging on the side.”

“When did you become so pathetic?” Jackson asked, not a hint of humor in his voice.

“Depends on the date and the circumstances.”

“Leave her already,” he said as Scotty shut the door. Jackson rolled down the window because he wasn’t done talking. “Look at how badly you’ve let your life spin out of control over this broad.”

Turning around, he said, “True love can sometimes snip your nuts, Jackson. Maybe one day you’ll find that out.”

“Hopefully not the hard way,” he said before pulling away from the curb.

Inside, Scotty was as quiet as he could be, knowing Carly was sound asleep. He took off his shoes, slid off his pants, and laid down on the couch. It was uncomfortable but it was better than the asphalt he had been laid out on earlier, a lot more comfortable.

Later, when the phone rang, he saw that it was Leopold calling and thank God! But the way his head hurt, the way his entire body hurt, every single word Leopold said to him over the phone felt like a gunshot to his skull. He couldn’t keep this kind of pace anymore.

It was time to change.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

LEOPOLD WENTWORTH

Leopold gave Kiera a pair of black Jackie-O sunglasses and a floppy hat to wear, as well as a COVID mask and a sweatshirt. After that, the two of them walked through the airport’s concourse where they mixed in with the growing throng of travelers.

Unobstructed, hopefully unnoticed, they followed the signs to short-term parking. The Audi was exactly where he expected it to be and he found the key easily. They got inside the vehicle and Leopold fired up the four-hundred-fifty horsepower, twin-turbo V8. The throaty purr was music to his ears.

“Buckle up,” he said to Kiera who was ignoring the beeping sound.

She put on the seatbelt, took off the glasses and the hat, and then sat there quietly while he found his way to the freeway.

When he got an opening, Leopold stepped on the accelerator, launching them forward with a ferocious roar. A huge smile overtook his face. “If you don’t just love the sound of that, you’re not a true adrenaline junky.”

Grinning, he looked over at Kiera who was looking forward without a smile. The childish smile fell from his face in no time flat. “If I were the car, I’d be offended by your behavior.”

She said nothing.

“I met this cold fish a few weeks back,” he said. “Right before I ate it, the fish and I had the most splendid conversation, and do you know what the fish said?”

Not one single discernible muscle moved on the girl’s face. She might as well be caught in a waking coma.

“The fish said, ‘No matter what you think of me, I’m still a better conversationalist than Kiera the human robot.’”

He looked over at her as he said this.

Still nothing.

“And then I ate that fish with whole grain rice and a nice bottle of Chianti.” With her still refusing to budge, he said, “You’re officially freaking me out.”

He had already loaded an address into the phone; he just needed to let Google know he was ready to go. A single push of a button activated the audible navigation. The nearly-human voice gave him the first of the directions that would take them to a liquor mart.

With GPS technology allowing the tracking of cell phones and cars, the last thing he wanted to do was be on someone’s radar with his personal phone. He was still amazed at how the right people could not only reconstruct a crime scene but back-trace the movements of potential suspects. Whatever the case, he wasn’t going to be one of those Dateline Investigations. He was smarter than that. At least, he hoped he was smarter than that.

Neither of them said a word until they reached the liquor store. When he arrived at the store, he