Page 38 of The Perfect Stranger

Be warned.

Watch your back.

I heeded it all knowing I was playing in a snake pit. But this to me, was a game. I would take Ana up on her offer because I needed more. I wanted to know schedules, times of the year Luis Santos frequented the club, information on his residences, and why the fucker was so hard to track that not even his nephew knew where he was.

“She show you a good time?” Gabriel's eyes glistened with humor while he tucked his shirt into his pants.

“You were right, she was exactly what I needed.”

“Well, don’t get too close. If my uncle finds out you’ve been dippin’ into it, you can kiss her sweet ass, and yours, goodbye.”

“If she’s so off limits, why send me to her?”

He stopped and turned to me, eyes curious. “I look after my staff, amigo. You can continue enjoying her until Luis gets back.” He waited for my response, and I gave him none, not believing his word for a second.

Of course he would want me to continue seeing Ana. He would be waiting and listening for the any sign of treason. I would take Gabriel up on his offer, but he wouldn’t find what he was looking for.

“Not your sort?” I asked in an attempt to return the casual tone.

He laughed out loud, slapping me on the shoulder as we made our way down the hall. “Not my sort, brother. I like ‘em dirty. The lesser the morals, the better.”

What a surprise.

“Five fucking minutes late,” Gabriel barked when a middle-aged man came in flanked by two Santos guards. He wore a cheap suit, thick rimmed glasses and a nervous look.

“The road three miles north had a police stop.” For a man who looked like he still harbored emotional scars from high school bullies, he spoke with confidence. He wasn’t deterred by Gabriel’s brash manner.

The two took a seat in opposing armchairs while a waitress brought a bottle of Tequila and two glasses.

“What’d you tell them?” Gabriel asked, already expecting the worst.

“I didn’t have to tell them anything. They’re looking for some bitch gone missing. Asked me where I was going. Told them my wife closed up shop years ago, and was on my way to get my dick sucked at the whore house. They’re young. Ripe. Barely legal.”

While Andrews seemed pleased to divulge details of his regular haunt, Gabriel at least had the decency to look unimpressed. He simply stared at the piece of shit in front of him until finally Andrews wiped the smirk off his face.

“What do you have for me?” Gabriel asked, downing a glass of Tequila. It was straight back into business.

“We’re outa luck.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“The Baja cartel is holding strong on the Tijuana and California coast. We can’t get our cells in there without a full-scale war erupting.”

“The fucking Baja cartel? You’re telling me that miserable excuse for a social group is preventing us from claiming the lower west coast?”

“I think you need to re-evaluate your views on the Baja cartel. They’re not some ‘social group,’ Gabriel. They have the law enforcement all up the west coast on their side. They even have the border cracking down on any known Santos men, which is why we can’t get close in their territory. That border once belonged to Hector Florez.”

“I know who fucking Hector Florez is.”

“Then you’ll know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

Gabriel paused, steepled fingers tapping in contemplation. “The thing is Andrews… you were given one job and one job only, and that was to secure the west coast border. Tijuana is a hotspot for gringos looking to get fucked up away from their privileged college lives. The Californian coast is our golden gateway. Hector Florez and his empire are long dead. In fact, I doubt he even uttered the word ‘Baja’ once in his time, that’s how insignificant they are. So please, tell me again, how you have allowed some guerrilla group labeling themselves a cartel, take ownership of the border?”

“You’re missing the point—”

“No, you’re missing the point!” The three-quarter filled bottle of Tequila shattered against the wall. Some nearby women yelping in fear at the sudden outburst. Gabriel rose to his feet towering over Andrews. Men who were appreciating their stage stripteases looked over their shoulders, pissed their moment of short-lived ecstasy was interrupted. “I have a lot invested in that border already, and your inability to complete the task is simply not good enough.”

Andrew’s swallowed and licked his lips. He was growing nervous and unsure whether he should have just turned around at the police stop and driven far away in the opposite direction.

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