Page 17 of Tango

“No, you have a brother—”

I cut him off. “Less is easier to remember. I know Frank asked you to help me, and I know you’re doing your job, but the only way this whole thing will work is if I have some say in creating my own world.”

“Fine.” He pulled out a Jarritos soda from the fridge and handed it to me. “Have you met the priest yet?”

“No.”

“Let’s do that now, then.” We stepped outside, and he snickered at the heat. “If it helps, you’ll never get used to it.”

He was right.

A knock at the hotel door jolted me back to the present and I grabbed a metal coat hanger and untwisted it quickly. I wound it around my fist, then inched close to the door.

“Who is it?” I called.

“Room service.”

“I didn’t order any room service.”

“I know, but a Frank Washington did.” I lowered my fist and opened the door a crack. I kept my boot against it as I swept my gaze over his shoulder and down the hall.

All clear. I rolled my eyes at Frank’s not so subtle alias.

“Ah,” the man sensed my mood, “why don’t I just leave it here, and you can wheel it inside your room.”

“Good plan.” I waited until he left then quickly pulled the cart into my room. I locked the door and wedged a chair under the handle. I tried to shake off the feeling of unease about being in a hotel room by myself with no real weapon.

I had to focus minute by minute. If I looked too far ahead my mind would spin out. The smell of steak found me, and suddenly I felt starved.

I ate the meal and drank the beer that came with it. I glanced at the bar fridge and wished I could have another, but I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. I couldn’t afford to alter my head in any way. I didn’t bother to wheel the cart back out; they’d get it when I left in the morning.

I picked up the laptop Frank had sent and put it on the table. I opened it and logged in to the server for my house in Rosarito. I needed to download my files. Even though I’d installed safeguards, I knew I couldn’t risk my videos, audios, and emails might end up in someone else’s hands. While the files downloaded, I checked the live camera feeds around and inside the house.

The entire perimeter crawled with Castillo’s men. I tapped another camera and brought up the living room feed and inched closer to the screen. Alejandro paced the floor. He was obviously pent-up and tugged at his hair. He kept looking out the window, then would look at his phone and began to pace again. Who was he waiting for?

I grabbed a water glass and moved to the couch, then pulled out the phone. I dialed the number by heart and waited for it to connect.

“Chili,” he answered.

“You alone?”

“Jesus,” he hissed. “Just a sec. Let me.” I heard him walking then everything went quiet. “What the hell happened?”

“What do you know?”

“Just that you got ambushed and you and the girl are missing.”

“Did Frank call you?”

“He did, but I couldn’t answer. Castillo came by.”

What? That made me nervous.

“When?”

“Early this morning, like six thirty.”

Huh. “What’d he want?”

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