Page 35 of The Perfect Stranger

Chapter Twelve

A smiling Gabriel was a dangerous Gabriel.

He was an evil son-of-a-bitch and his glee usually transpired to an unsuspecting someone about to lose their life. After a week of being in his company, I noticed this unsettling trend.

This time around, his smile was of delight. Delight at the sound of a needle coloring my skin.

It felt like a blade slicing slow, deliberate. It was a pain I was used to. Pain I actually enjoyed.

The image of the Mother Mary was now emblazoned on my shoulder branding me a Santos.

I was one of them.

After the night at the brothel, I had joined Gabriel at his mansion in the rolling hills north of Bogota and accompanied him to his various engagements as his personal bodyguard.

He asked no questions, though I suspected he conducted his own background check only to come to the same conclusion as the United States. I now had a court order on my name. With my dishonorable discharge paperwork in the process of being signed, sealed and delivered. The repercussions of my decision to hunt Luis Santos had helped legitimize my position. I was now tangled in the spider’s web.

As the tattooist wiped the blood off Mother Mary’s face, applied salve, and covered the branding, Gabriel ended his phone call and clapped his hands in excitement.

“Good news, brother. You’ve got your first assignment.”

Less than twelve hours later we were in the middle of a hot and humid Bogota day. I followed Gabriel into an upper market club. As expected the inside was dark, only stage lights shining off the naked bodies of the strippers working for a dollar. Men in business suits slowly sipped their spirits, gold wedding bands glinting whenever they raised the glass to their mouth. This wasn’t a club where dollar bills were stuffed down panties with a free grope for their efforts. This was where criminals came to do business, the bonus of Colombia’s most beautiful women adding the right amount of sweetness when sealing the deal. I was given three words of advice from a man not wise enough to heed them himself, ‘trust no one.’

Gabriel shook hands with the men who knew him and ignored the curious stares of those wanting to know him. After each handshake, he wiped his palm on his pants like he couldn’t stand the thought of sweat and bacteria.

“Hola, señor Santos,” an eager man with a rounded face and little pig eyes greeted my new employer. His gaze gave me the once over, spying my utility belt and pinning me as the help. I listened as Gabriel and the club manager conversed, exchanged pleasantries before sitting at a circular couch surrounding a private pole.

“I have not seen Luis for some time,” the manager began, gesturing for the waitress to set the drinks down.

Gabriel stiffened. It wasn’t a topic he took pleasure in discussing. “My uncle is off the grid, and has been for quite some time.”

“Well, we miss his patronage here and Ana has been asking of him.”

Who was Ana and how often did Luis visit here?

“I’m sure Ana has kept herself busy.”

The manager laughed with an edge of uncertainty. He was kissing Gabriel’s ass and played it cool.

“Indeed,” he recovered, his lips sticking to his teeth. “She is quite popular.”

“Indeed.” Gabriel was bored with the conversation. “I have an associate joining us. Ensure you bring him to the viewing room once he arrives.”

“Certainly, Mr. Santos.”

That was his cue to leave, and he fumbled to his feet before taking out his aggression on a passing waitress who was simply doing her job.

“Come, Antonio.” Gabriel stood and led the way from the main floor to a narrow hall before turning to me. “He’s a fucking moron, but he runs a tight establishment without me watching his every move. And the girls? The girls here are…” he held his fingers to his lips and kissed, “…primo.”

I nodded, my only interest in the club being that Luis Santos could visit whenever he returns.

“Who’s the associate?” I asked.

He waved dismissively. “I use that term loosely. He won’t be anything by the time the sun goes down. Time for a pleasure before business,” he quipped preceding opening the door for me. I stepped inside the dark room, my eyes adjusting quickly. There was a glass box at the far of the room with a single viewing couch placed directly in front. “Ana is one of my uncle’s top pics. Not my sort, but I’m sure you’ll appreciate her… talents.”

I smiled, and it was genuine. I didn’t care for the show. What I did care for was siphoning information from those who knew Luis Santos.

“Have fun. We’ve got an hour, amigo. Oh and ask for a lap dance,” a wicked gleam lit his eyes, “I hear she’s great at those.” Gabriel winked before closing the door on an opportunity he literally put right in front of me.

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