I shrugged. “I could be a customer coming in with a complaint. Do you talk to all your customers that way?”

He glared at me. It was pitiful. “I can see you’re not. What do you want?”

“I wanted to ask you a few questions about your past employee, Luisa Chavez.”

He smirked and rolled his eyes. “Haven’t you heard? She’s Luisa Reyes now.”

“Is that right?”

“The bitch married a drug lord,” he said. “Salvador Reyes.”

I sucked in my breath. “I see. Well, good for her.”

He picked his nose and then wiped it under the desk. My lips wrinkled in distaste.

“She was money hungry,” he informed me, as if I was suddenly his friend. “She’d always come in here asking for money. Said it was for her parents. I bet it never was. But I don’t know what the hell she spent her money on, actually. Not men. Maybe she was into women, too.” He gave me a knowing look. “She was always such a prude. Doesn’t mean I didn’t get to have my fun with her, if you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice steady.

Bruno picked up on something anyway. “Aw, shit,” he said, straightening himself in his chair. “You’re not like a relative of hers or something?”

I cocked my head. “No. Though she does carry my name.”

He frowned. I could almost hear the rust in his head as the cogs turned.

“It’s on her back,” I told him. “Where I carved it.”

Before any panic could fully register on Bruno’s face, I swiftly flung the blade out. I aimed for his upper neck, but it went straight in the hollow of his throat.

Good enough.

He gasped, wheezing for air, but the air would not come. His hands went for his throat, trying to pull the blade out as the blood began to run down his chest, but he was already too weak to grab the handle. He started to pitch over, falling for the floor. I was at his side before he could.

I grabbed him by his greasy hair, holding him up by the roots.

“No, no, no,” I said in a hush, making sure to stare him right in the eye. “This is not over.”

I grabbed the knife and quickly yanked it out. Now the blood was gushing from the wound, drenching him in seconds. But as beautiful as the sight was, I had to be careful not to get any on my suit.

With my grip firm in his hair, I leaned over to whisper in his ear, the blade poised at his bloody throat. “You know all those things you tried to do to Luisa,” I said. “Well, I did them. I did them again and again, and she loved it. Maybe because I’m one of the few men who has ever seen her for the queen that she is. All you see her for is her beauty. I see her for her, stained and everything.” I pressed the blade in harder. “And I see you for everything you are—a sleazy sack of shit.”

I slowly, deliberately began to work the blade into his throat. He squirmed and kicked and fought against me, but in his current state, I was stronger. His will to live was pathetic, just like he was.

Eventually he stopped kicking. I kept cutting. When I was finally done, I was covered in a sweat and only a few drops of blood on my shoes and pants. They’d come out with a good wash.

I put his head into the garbage and pulled the bag out, making a knot at the end. I hoped it wouldn’t leak through. Then I looked around the office. It was a mess before I came in, piles of paper and empty beer bottles scattered around. The addition of blood and a headless corpse was barely noticeable.

I pushed in the lock on the door and quickly exited, shutting the door behind me. I couldn’t see Camila around, which was a shame. If she had asked me what happened, I would have told her Bruno had a headache and didn’t want to be disturbed. It was such a good line.

Soon I was out of the bar and strolling down the street again toward my rental car, bag of garbage hoisted over my shoulder. My first order of business was complete. Now it was on to the second.

I had a feeling it was going to be a lot harder.

“Excuse me,” I asked the aproned-woman who came to the door. “But do Raquel and Armand Chavez live here?”

The women stared at me for a moment, slowly wiping her hands on her apron. I had left Bruno’s head in an ice cooler in the trunk, so there should have been nothing too unusual about a smartly-dressed man standing on the steps. “Yes, they live here. Who is asking?”

I breathed out a sigh of quiet relief. So Salvador hadn’t killed them yet, which meant that Luisa was probably still alive.

“I’m a friend of their daughter,” I told her, smiling as genuinely as possible. “Could you let Raquel know that I wish to speak with her? It’s rather important, I’m afraid.”

Again she studied me. I had a feeling that Luisa personally hired this woman. She was bold and suspicious, just the kind of person she’d want to protect her parents. If my instincts were right, she probably had a gun very close by and knew how to use it.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Javier,” I told her.

“No last name?”

“Garcia.”

“All right, Javier Garcia,” she said. “I’ll go get Raquel. Please stay here.”

The door shut in my face.

I shrugged and took a seat on the bench beside a well-tended rose garden. I admired the flowers while I waited to hear the door open again.

When it did, I swiveled in my seat to see a beautiful, elegant older woman standing there. Her focus was on me, even though I knew she was blind.

“You wish to speak to me about Luisa?” she asked. I could see the caretaker hovering right behind her.

I started to rise but Raquel quickly said, “You stay right where you are. Don’t get up. A friend of my daughter’s is a friend of mine.”

I really hoped she hadn’t said that about Sal.

“Your senses are outstanding, Mrs. Chavez,” I told her as she came down the two steps and on the path toward me, moving with grace and confidence, not needing any help at all.

She smiled, and I saw Luisa in her face. It did funny things to my gut, rotting it with sadness.

“Thank you,” she said, “but this is just life for me. It doesn’t need to be so hard.”

“No,” I said, “I guess not with this. You have a lovely new home.” My eyes slid over to the housekeeper who was now leaning against the doorway, openly watching us. “And very watchful help.”

“Ah, that’s just Penelope,” she said, waving her away. “Go back inside, Penelope, I’ll be fine. This man is not going to hurt me.”

Penelope reluctantly did as she asked, but even so I saw the blinds move and knew she was spying through the window.

“She’s very paranoid,” I noted, turning back to Raquel. “Is there a reason for that?”

She gave me a small smile. “Yes.” But she said no more.

I didn’t want to make Raquel paranoid, but I had to ask, “How come you’re so sure I’m not going to hurt you?”

She sat down beside me and folded her hands in her lap. “You can read people’s faces, can’t you? I can read people’s souls.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, but her smile and confidence never wavered.

“Oh, you’re serious,” I said, feeling slightly ashamed. I covered it up. “Well, I’ll have you know I have no soul to read.”

Now it was her time to laugh. “Of course you do!” she exclaimed. “You’re here right now, aren’t you? Now, tell me why, and you’ll see that I’m right.”

“Why I’m here?”

She nodded gently.

“Mrs. Chavez…”

“Raquel.”

“Raquel,” I started, “have you heard from your daughter recently?”

She shook her head, her hands trembling just a bit. “No. Not for at least three weeks. Do you know if she’s okay?”

I sucked on my lip for a moment. “Truthfully? I don’t know anything. But I don’t think she is. I think Luisa is in a lot of danger and so are you. Salvador Reyes makes bad men look good.”

“I know that,” she said in quiet anger.

“And I know that he’s no longer interested in keeping her as his wife…” I breathed in and out loudly. “And when that happens, she’s as good as dead to him.”