Little things like walking into a shop and buying things denied to me for so long stop me from arguing. “Thank you.” I take the money, pick up the scarf I pretended had caught my eye, then step into the cute little shop, coming out a few seconds later with my purchase in my hand, and change in my pocket.
Slowly we edge our way around the colourful displays. I’m keeping my eye out for anything resembling a post office, but nowhere has a post box outside. Reluctantly, I’m going to have to ask my companion.
“Miguel. My father wanted me to write to Drew. I’ve got a letter to post. Where do I send it?” I ask nonchalantly, trying to contain the excitement that I’ll be able to get my letter and warning to Drew, while kidding them I’m sending the draft my father wanted sent.
“That shop there. She’ll sort you out.” I glance in the direction he’s pointing.
“Um, how do you say I’d like to post a letter in Spanish?”
“I’ll come in with you.” He sounds decisive.
I don’t want him to see the address on the envelope. “No, if this is going to be my home, I’ve got to learn to do things myself.”
His look now is approving. “Deseo publicar una carta.”
I thank him and go into the shop he’s directed me to. When I repeat the words he told me, the woman nods her head. I pass over the envelope and the money. Pleasant smiles are exchanged, and I’m back out on the street, my heart leaping at the thought my letter will reach Drew and warn him.
Feeling lighter as though I’ve rid myself of a burden, I resolve to enjoy the time I’m in the fresh air, even if it means I have to ignore the three armed men with me. After some more time just walking around, Miguel takes me into a little café. The two guards wait outside. I have coffee and some sort of cake. He tries to engage me in conversation. While I’m not abrupt, neither am I forthcoming. He’s not here as my friend, he’s one of my father’s men. Despite my hopes earlier, there’s no way of slipping away and seeking help. Miguel’s my jailer, as much here as when he locks my bedroom door at the compound. I trust him as much as my father, and that means I don’t trust him at all.
I sense Miguel would show an interest in me if I allowed it. There’s something about the way he keeps accidentally touching my hand, or when he stands just a little too close. His nearness makes my skin crawl;I don’t like him. His mouth opens and the right words come out, but there’s an air about him that suggests he’s cut from the same cloth as my father.
The slight liberties he takes worry me, and make me think of Tse. If Tse was my companion, I’d lean into his touches, welcome them. The fleeting thought of the man I’m unlikely ever to see again brings a wave of sadness.He said he’d come with me.But he’s got no way of finding me. I turn away before Miguel can question the tears that come to my eyes, as I allow myself to realise how much I miss Tse.
When we exit the cafe, Miguel asks one of the others a question in rapid fire Spanish. For a reply, the guard touches his pocket. For some reason he seems to look smug.
Then we’re back in the car, and now descending the mountain, retracing our path. On the journey back, Miguel doesn’t try to make conversation.
Chapter 28
Mouse
“Yeah?” Having been interrupted I take the opportunity to take out my stash and papers and start rolling again. My brow creases as I observe my unusual visitor. Prospects know better than to interrupt me while I’m working. My interest is piqued as I suspect he’s got a good reason.
Matt shifts on his feet. “Thought I ought to let you know. I picked Drew up from school today. He asked to go back to the trailer park, seems a book he needed was there.”
I nod. All good so far.
What Matt says next has the hairs on the back of my neck pricking. “Fuckin’ trailer was a wreck. Someone had been through it, and through it good.”
“Neighbours?” It wouldn’t surprise me. The people who live there are as poor as shit, and an abandoned trailer fair game. Couldn’t even blame them.
“Nah. TV was smashed. Thieves would have taken it. I reckon someone was trying to find something. Info where Drew had gone, perhaps?”
Narrowing my eyes, I consider the prospect. He’s a smart one. He’s not been involved in our discussions, and only brothers know Mariana’s father wants to get his hands on Drew. Seems we might have brought the fight Stateside.
“Drew okay?” I ask.
“Yes, and…” Matt looks like he hasn’t quite finished, but he pinches his nose. “He was upset, obviously. Took some time pokin’ around. Found the fuckin’ textbook he was after—one of the only things not destroyed. We went to the manager’s office to see if anyone saw anything. Of course they didn’t. There were a couple pieces of mail waiting there. One a bill, and one which upset him. Think you need to talk to him, Mouse. Oh, and the manager said someone had been hangin’ around the park. A Hispanic, but he couldn’t give a better description. He couldn’t say it was him who wrecked the trailer. Oh, and I secured it as best I could.”
Wondering what could have caused Drew to become more distressed than the destruction of his home, I start to stand. Matt holds up his hand. “When we left the trailer park, I noticed we’d picked up a tail. I stopped that damn car, changed places with Drew. Took some evasive actions and managed to lose whoever it was.”
Now it’s me that’s troubled. “You did good, Prospect.” When it comes to deciding whether to patch him in, he’ll get my vote. “When you stopped to take over the driving, he approach you?”
“Nah, stayed well back. I had my gun handy in case. Looked to me like he wanted to find where we were heading, rather than wanting a confrontation on the street.”
I purse my lips, thinking. First thing to do is to make sure the kid’s okay. Then I’ll need to bring Drummer in on this. Hopefully, Matt’s right and he lost the tail. If not, trouble might be brewing.
Without having to say the words, Matt knows he’s dismissed. I follow him out to see what state Drew’s in, concerned today’s events might have disturbed him. But that’s one thing I needn’t have worried about, and my lips curl slightly when I see Drew standing by the bar, his arms gesticulating wildly, an audience around him.
