Chapter Sixty-One
Nathan
I nursed my beer and my disappointment as the suspicious knot of men dispersed. It could take weeks for me to catch the attention of the cartel, and the thought was excruciating.
How long before Bree’s trail went cold, and I never saw her again?
I slumped at the bar and fell into the rhythm of it. All the regulars shifted when a new song came on the jukebox. Heads turned when the door opened. Everyone looked down, gauging their drinks when someone ordered another round.
The door opened and I glanced up with the rest. Except this time, I noticed that everyone’s glances ricocheted off the man quickly. Suddenly pocket change, old receipts, and the ceiling were more interesting. I watched him a few more beats, then looked back at my dwindling beer.
The man nodded at someone behind me and marched across the bar, not even acknowledging the bartender. He shook hands with his friend and then there was a secondary exchange. From over my shoulder, all I could see was the movement but it confirmed my suspicions.
After unfolding a tight wad of cash, the man approached the bar and ordered a whiskey. He paid in cash and left a generous tip. The bartender served him with tight lips and a curt nod. It was all professional curtesy and no warmth.
He was a drug dealer.
I slumped down further over my last sips of beer. If this was a drug dealer and closely connected with the cartel, there was a chance he had seen me before. Drug dealers had notoriously good memories for faces, and no amount of red hair dye or hats would confuse him.
I stared into the shallow swirls of my beer and tried to remember. The missing memories were there, like fish under the surface, and I shook my head, trying to drive them up to the light.
I couldn’t remember if he and I had met before. The frustration of it burned in my chest. As a SEAL, I had to recall target faces with 100% accuracy. I could still see every detail of hundreds of faces, both good and bad, but I couldn’t recall if this mid-level drug dealer had ever seen me before.
It was so distracting that I almost blew my cover by pulling a big bill out of my boot and buying a double-shot of whiskey.
“Need a round on me?” the man asked as if he could read my thoughts.
I straightened up only marginally under his sharp review. The drug dealer sized me up in a matter of seconds and decided I looked like I could use a few favors. My breath slowly released as he patted me on the back and took the stool next to me.
He was going to do me a favor in order to get one in return. It was exactly what I wanted.
The bartender poured us two shots of whiskey. He didn’t make eye contact; the way people shy away from the faces of animals they know are bound for the slaughterhouse.
“You don’t look like a man who likes to take things for free.” The drug dealer nodded to my untouched whiskey shot. “I’m sure you’ll pay me back. Wanna know how I know that?”
I nodded.
“I got some friends who need a little work done. They pay well as long as you know how to keep your mouth shut. That seem like something you could do?” he asked.
I remembered my earlier persona and chuckled. Then I took the shot and turned to face the drug dealer. “I’m willing to take a gamble if you are,” I said.
“You a betting man?” He didn’t even wait for my nod. “No offense, brother, but you don’t look like you’re very good at it.”
I shrugged. “Everyone has their runs of bad luck. I’m not broke yet.”
The drug dealer sized me up again. “You look strong, I’ll give you that. So maybe you can handle the trouble your mouth gets you in.”
“Look, buddy. I don’t know what sort of weird set-up this is, but I’m not interested. Thanks for the shot.” I stood up.
Ever con-man knew in order to hook the mark, you had to pretend to walk away.
“So, you’re not that desperate? I heard you were in here begging for some action,” the drug dealer said.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I had clocked everyone in the bar but I still couldn’t tell who was his informant. They were a smooth, almost imperceptible team.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “What’s the job?”
The drug dealer stood up and turned me to walk with him. In my ear, he said, “Why don’t you come back here tomorrow, same time, and I’ll have all the details for you.”
“One more shot to seal the deal?” I asked.
He chuckled and slapped me on the back. “Done.”
The bartender caught the drug dealer’s quick nod and poured me another shot of whiskey. By the time I sat back down on my stool, my new contact was gone. I kicked back the shot and ordered a beer.
“Looks like I might be coming into some money soon.” I laid down the rest of my petty cash.
I was hoping the bartender would give me some sort of warning, or at least make some comment about the shit I had just stepped in, but he was silent. That meant it was bad. Why warn someone when it was already too late?
I fidgeted my full beer around in my hands and wondered what sort of entry level job I would be assigned. How long would it take me to work my way up the ranks and find Adrian Juarez?
It seemed more likely someone would recognize me tomorrow and all hell would break loose.
Either way, it would be a long time before I was able to see Bree’s sweet face again.
The thought punched a deep ache into my gut. Bree would be heading across Colorado by now, on her way to a new life. Would she go to the coast like she’d always daydreamed? Or would she head off to find her estranged sister?
My mind began to track Bree and my muscles twitched to leave the dim little dive bar. I could track her from Springer, New Mexico, and maybe catch up with her before she crossed state lines again.
“Got a lot on your mind?” a woman asked from a few stools down.
I shook my head. “Not really,” I lied.
The woman flipped back thick, dark hair. She was attractive even though her lips were painted too red. Her weary eyes still flickered at me, dancing down over where my arms stretched my stolen shirt. She shimmied her shoulders in a flirtatious dance.
“Bored, then. I can help with bored,” she said.
I was sure she could. The woman leaned against the bar, making her ample cleavage even deeper on more on display. I could feel the man to the right of me shooting jealous glances past me to her. Any other man in the bar would have taken her generous offer.
All I could think about was Bree.
I shook my head. “Not much for conversation tonight. Thanks anyway.”
The woman took the rejection with only slightly wider eyes and turned to consider her options in another direction.
I slammed half my beer and tried to shut out the bright daydream blazing through my head. The alcohol and the close brush with a cartel member had sparked an escape route. All I wanted to do was walk out the door.
I would head straight to the field where Maggie had taken Bree across. It wouldn’t take much for me to find their trail. I’d be across the border in a few hours and on my way to the Greyhound station in Springer.
If Bree had already moved on, I would take the first road leading to the coast. I tried not to smile as I realized my best move would be to check in at every diner along the way. Bree had a soft spot for her old profession, not to mention a healthy appetite. I imagined finding her in the same way we first met, except she would be in the booth and I would slide in across from her.
The sweet daydream dissolved, and I tried to wash away what was left with the rest of my beer.
Reality returned and I slipped off my barstool. The whiskey had already worn off and all I felt was tired. I needed to get back to the motel and get a solid night’s sleep. Tomorrow I knew would not go easy.
The bar customers glanced as I pulled open the door and left them to sink back into their places and wait for the next person to come in.