Page 33 of For the Love of Animals

Another guffaw. “See? You’re refreshing. What are you doing this afternoon?”

“This afternoon? I’m going to the parade.”

“Perfecto. You can come with me.”

And sit in a room filled with sarin gas? No thanks.

“I’m going with my fiancé.”

“You’re engaged?”

“That’s generally what having a fiancé means. Señor Lozano, I asked you not to move. Unless you like body piercings?”

“That mouth will get you into trouble one day. Has anybody ever told you that?”

“More times than I can count.” I knotted the end of the thread. It wasn’t the world’s best sewing job, but my customer would be dead soon, so I figured that didn’t matter so much. “There. Finished.”

“Are you sure I can’t persuade you to rethink my invitation?”

“Positive. But enjoy the parade. Every year, it brings new surprises.”

“Indeed it does. If you change your mind, I’m sure you can get my number from Señorita Camacho.”

“I’m afraid that won’t happen.”

Lozano beckoned to one of the guards hovering in the doorway. Even in the house, security was tight.

“Please see Señorita Cortes out.”

Nobody spoke as we trailed back through the house, and I half expected to be stopped at any moment, to be hauled back in to face Lozano when he realised what I’d done. I still couldn’t believe what had just happened. Perhaps I should have been more deferential, but when he practically shoved his crotch in my face, I just couldn’t bring myself to be polite.

One guard followed me all the way to the car while three more watched from the doorway. They’d searched the vehicle; I could tell from a glance. I’d deliberately left a peso lined up straight in the coin tray in the centre console, and now it had been moved. But never mind—there was nothing for them to find. The gates opened silently when I reached the end of the driveway, and I turned right at a leisurely pace.

My first attempt at a close-up assassination, and I’d survived.

I was free.

Well, sort of. Three miles along the road, I glanced in the rear-view mirror and Nate glared back at me from his SUV. Why was he so angry? What had I done?

A quarter mile passed, and he still looked furious. I wanted to keep driving, but I put on the turn signal and pulled off the road. Five seconds later, he climbed into the passenger seat, then bristled as he leaned across the centre console.

“What the hell were you playing at?”

“Assassinating a drug lord?”

“You know exactly what I mean. You weren’t supposed to go inside.”

“When they invited me, I could hardly decline, could I? Verónica wouldn’t have.”

“Anything could have happened in there.”

“But it didn’t, so stop yelling at me. I did my job, okay? I handled it. He asked me to suck his damn cock, and I declined.”

“You could have antagonised him with that smart fucking mouth of yours.”

“Some men like my smart mouth.”

“I know.”

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