Page 30 of So Smitten

“Didn’t look like much of a champion to me. Jamal looked ready to shit a brick when he saw Turk.”

Faith double tapped her earpiece and said, “Easy, Michael. Don’t provoke anyone.”

“Chill the ego, man,” the other voice said. “I get that you got shit to prove, but right now, you just a spectator, comprende? Just sit back, have a beer, have a girl, and enjoy the show. Oh. Your dog’s gotta stay in the cages, though. Can’t have fighting dogs in the crowd during the fights. We tried that once, and it wasn’t pretty. We got a spot reserved for him.”

Faith bristled and nearly told Michael not to let that happen, but Garvey grabbed her shoulder and shook her head. Faith frowned, but she relented. She knew this was probably going to happen. She didn’t relish the idea of Turk being alone, but they wouldn’t put two fighting dogs in the same cage.

“Michael, tell Turk to be mean when you put him in the cage. Make it seem casual.”

“Got it,” Michael said. “See you later, Gaucho.”

Faith muted her microphone and Garvey said, “Francisco Jimenez, nickname, Gaucho. He’s the pit boss.”

“Could he have murdered Harris?”

“Possibly, but I don’t know why he would have murdered Mariano too. Mariano was so far down on the ladder he wasn’t even on it. It would be like killing a man, then killing his pet fish.”

Except Mariano wasn’t a fish, he was a man. Faith understood her point, though. “How long do these fights usually run?”

“An hour or two,” Garvey said, “they aren’t worried about cops too much, but they know better than to make enough noise to attract attention. They’ll do their business, collect their money and get out.”

Faith nodded and turned to the monitor, where an orange dot indicated Michael's position and a green dot indicated Turk. The green dot remained stationary since Turk was in a cage now, and the orange dot moved steadily away.

***

Michael hated this. He wasn't good at undercover. He had studiously avoided any career track that would require him to go undercover. He grew up in an upper-middle-class neighborhood in the San Francisco Bay and had attended school in Berkeley before joining the FBI. He knew about as much about life on the street as he did about oil futures.

And he really didn’t like that Turk was separated from him. Turk was a great dog, but Michael doubted that Turk would understand to stay mean for the entire time it took Michael to watch the fights.

Michael risked trying to move the meeting up. “Hey, Gaucho, I don’t want to be a pain, but when do I meet the organizers?”

Gaucho laughed. “Patience, ese. Come on, man, I thought people were chill in California. Watch the fights, enjoy yourself. Hey, Trixie!”

A buxom young woman wearing far too little clothing for a cool night like tonight plastered a seductive smile underneath supremely bored eyes. “Yes, Daddy?”

“Bring my friend Mike a drink. Make it nice and sweet for him, okay?”

Trixie looked Michael up and down with practiced sultriness. “Ooh, he’s cute.”

“Tell him that after you bring him his drink, baby,” Gaucho said with a grin.

I’m sorry, Ellie, Michael thought as he forced himself to watch Trixie walk away.

“She’s cute, huh?” Gaucho said.

“She’s something,” Michael replied.

Gaucho laughed. “Wait until you see what she can do with those hips. I hope you ate a good breakfast, muchacho. You’re gonna need your strength.”

He laughed again and Michael managed a smile as Gaucho led them to their “seats,” a couple of overturned crates a few yards back from the ring.

Michael’s first dogfighting experience was even more traumatic than he expected. The show didn’t start with a fight as he expected. Instead, a small Pomeranian was released into the ring and left to quail in fear for over a minute while the announcer introduced the fighters, a Rottweiler named Brutus and a Dobermann named Killer.

Michael would have nightmares for a long time after hearing the noises coming from the ring.

"They have bait dogs in California?" Gaucho asked, "Or do they just starve the dogs?"

“We just starve ‘em,” Michael said, “Makes them ready to fight anything.”

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