was an odd sort of comment, and I’m not sure he was completely out from under the anesthesia at the time. You know that it can make you goofy for a few days after surgery?”
“I know it all too well,” he said somberly. “I’m carrying about three ounces of lead in my carcass that they could never remove.” His face hardened, as if he was remembering how he collected that lead.
She cocked her head.
“Give it up,” he said with faint amusement. “I don’t talk about my past, ever. Well, maybe to a local priest, but he’s an old friend.”
She pursed her lips. She knew a priest downtown who was a former merc. He did a lot of outreach work. “I wonder if we could possibly be thinking of the same priest?”
He glowered at her.
She held up both hands in mock surrender. “Okay, I’m done. Honest.”
He shook his head with a heavy sigh. “Some people!” he scoffed.
She grinned at him. He’d been so kind when she was living through her own tragedy.
“Okay. What did he say?”
She sipped black coffee. It was at least strong enough to keep her awake, if badly brewed. She made a face.
“Listen, if you’d ever had coffee made over a campfire with the grounds still in it,” he began.
She sighed. “Good point. At least it’s not that bad.” She lifted her eyes to his pale ones. “He said that he loved wolves, and that his boss was getting ready to poison a few snakes.”
Hollister whistled softly. “Oh, boy.”
“Like I said, it could have been the aftereffects of the anesthesia.”
“Or it could be code for what’s really happening.” His eyes narrowed. “You know what’s going on. Your hospital got the last two victims...the dead kid who was in Los Serpientes, and the wounded Lobitos member who skipped out before police could question him.”
She nodded. She was thinking of Tonio and the treatment he’d had at the hands of Rado and his friends. She worried for him.
“There’s a gang war starting,” Cal told her. “I don’t want a gang war in San Antonio. I still remember the last one and it makes me sick at my stomach.”
“I remember it, too.” It was the one that had resulted in her family’s death.
“I’m going to set up a task force,” he said. “We have a Texas Ranger here with a good knowledge of gangs and gang activities. I’m going to ask him to join.”
“Does he know about this latest shooting?”
He smiled secretively and glanced past her. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
She half turned in her chair, and there was John Ruiz, staring at the two of them with narrow black eyes. And he wasn’t smiling.
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