Page 154 of Lone Star

“This isn’t so bad a neighborhood as to warrant an armed guard on the gate in the middle of the afternoon – not unless something sensitive is going on. I do think it’s them. We’ve never bothered to find all their little dens here in the city, and I know they have to have them. Doc Gilliard’s place was a decoy, I think. The cartel had that little bitch feed us bad information on purpose and we paid for it.

“Now we have to be smart. If that’s the truck, then this is where they brought the girls – but the girls might not be here any longer. If it were me, and I had valuable hostages, I’d move them at least once, maybe twice, to throw off the scent.”

Albie ground his molars. “I hate when you make sense.”

“Doesn’t everyone? It’s worth a look inside, is what I’m saying, but don’t get your hopes up that we’ll find Michelle and Axelle.”

“Are you calling Candy?”

“Not yet. I have a better idea.”

~*~

Fox strolled intola tiendaas casual as you please, bought two bottles of orange soda, and had a lovely chat with the small, iron-haired woman running the till in her own language. She seemed surprised, at first, that he spoke Spanish so well, but warmed after he flashed her his good smile.

When he asked about the garage just around the corner, she shook her head and clucked her tongue. Strange goings-on there, she told him. Ugly men with lots of ugly guns. Her family had fled Mexico twenty years ago to get out from under the grip of the cartels, she said, and it made her sick to see them setting up shop here.

They steal from me,she said, and threaten me. I can’t call the police.

Fox had an elbow leaning on the counter at this point, sipping one of the sodas. He flicked the patches on the front of his cut.You’re tellingmenow.

The Lean Dogs help good people who need it, she said.And unlike the police, they take care of the bad guys.

“Your confidence in us is inspiring,abuelita,” he said, saluting her with his half-full bottle as he backed out into the parking lot, bell jangling in his wake.

Outside, Albie sat tapping nervous fingertips on his handlebars. His head whipped around at the sound of the bell. “Took you long enough.”

Fox popped the top off the second soda and offered it.

Albie made a face – disgusted with Fox and what he saw as wasted time.

“You’re shaking,” Fox said. “The sugar will help with the shock.”

“I’m not in shock,” Albie grumbled, but took the bottle and sipped at it. “What’d she say in there?”

“Pretty much what I figured. The cartel owns that place – or at least she thinks they do. Buncha young guys come into her shop now and then, shoplift, give her a hard time. She doesn’t give them any lip, which has probably kept it from escalating. She was glad to see me, she said. Hopes the Dogs are going to flush thebad guysout.”

Albie gave a little eyebrow shrug and took another sip. His shaking had already eased. He’d always been useless when he had nothing to do; it was talking shop more than the drink that was helping, Fox knew. “So what’s the plan?”

“We go in quietly, stealth-mode. Have Candy and the boys meet us in half an hour, which gives us plenty of time to poke around and see if there’s anything useful to learn until the big boys start bashing heads.”

Albie nodded. “Can you get over that fence?”

Fox grinned. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

~*~

It turned out they didn’t have to go over; they went through. A narrow alley ran behind the grocery store, one that was fenced on both sides, and offered access to all the backsides of the buildings that ran down two parallel side streets. Thetienda’sproprietress let them through her back gate with a key and wished them luck with a crinkle-eyed smile. Fox blew her a kiss and led the way.

It was dim and cool back here, the shadows of the buildings mated together to keep out the sun. The alley – just wide enough for a garbage truck to back down – was full of every building’s trash cans, and smelled of rot and piss.

The garage was easy to spot, its corrugated steel and a series of pedestrian and roll-top doors. The cars parked behind it were a mix of work vans, pickups, and a few sleek Mercedes sedans. The fence out front had been gleaming and new, tips of the razor wire winking in the sunlight.

But no one had thought to replace the old fence in the back. Why would they? It was high, and already in place, and there wasn’t street access back here.

Fox carried an array of tools on his person at all times, and the fence was rusty enough that the pliers in his interior cut pocket went right through it. A few snips, some peeling, and they had a hole large enough to wriggle through.

“What are the chances they have cameras?” Albie asked, once they were through.

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