Chapter 60
Two-tone
headed through the mirrored corridor that led from the outside
patio to the dance
floor. As he turned to check his safety pin in the reflection, he sensed a figure looming up behind him. He spun, but it was too late. A pair of rocklike arms pinned his body face-first against the glass.
The punk tried to twist around. “Eduardo? Hey, man, is that you?” Two-Tone
felt a hand brush over his wallet before the figure leaned firmly into his back. “Eddie!”
the punk cried. “Quit fooling around!
Some guy was lookin’ for Megan.”
The figure held him firmly.
“Hey, Eddie,
man, cut it out!” But when Two-Tone
looked up into the mirror,
he saw the figure
pinning him was not his friend at
all.
The face was pockmarked and scarred. Two lifeless eyes stared out like coal from behind wire-rim glasses. The man leaned forward,
placing his mouth against
Two-Tone’s ear. A strange,
voice choked, “Adónde fué? Where’d he
go?” The words sounded somehow misshapen.
The punk froze,
paralyzed with fear.
“Adónde fué?” the voice repeated. “El Americano.” “The…
the airport. Aeropuerto,” Two-Tone stammered.
“Aeropuerto?” the man repeated, his
dark eyes watching Two-Tone’s
lips in the mirror. The punk nodded.
“Tenía el
anillo? Did
he have the ring?” Terrified, Two-Tone shook his head.
“No.” “Viste el anillo? Did you see the ring?”
Two-Tone paused. What was the
right answer? “Viste
el anillo?” the muffled voice
demanded.
Two-Tone
nodded affirmatively, hoping honesty would pay. It did not. Seconds later he slid to
the floor, his neck broken.
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