H is for Homicide

Luis started the engine without a word. The mufflers sounded like distant jackhammers as he pulled out onto the road. He kept both hands on the steering wheel with his arms fully extended, his trunk and head inclined back. He made a U-turn and sped toward the freeway. Raymond's ticcing recurred at perhaps three-minute intervals, sometimes less. I found myself u

Bibia

"Dawna called and told me some of it before the cops picked her up. Who's the guy?"

"What guy?"

"The guy last night shot Chago."

"How do I know who he was? Just somebody in the restaurant with a gun."

"Dawna said you were with him."

"I was there by myself."

"Not what she says."

"She said that? It's bullshit. What'd he look like? She tell you that?"

"She didn't have a chance. Squad car pulled up and she hung up. Said some chick was there, too."

"She's blowin' smoke up your skirt. What a bitch! I was there by myself when Chago showed up with a gun. Maybe the guy was an off-duty cop or just your average citizen with a gun."

Raymond's face darkened. "That would really piss me off. What's the matter with people? Too many fuckin' handguns around." He turned and looked at me. "Every day in the paper, somebody gets blown away. L.A. Times. You read Metro? Scares the shit out of me." He held a hand up, blocking words in. "You know that slogan says, 'Guns don't kill people. People kill people.'? What a crock that is."

"Luis has a gun," I remarked helpfully.

"That's different. He's a lieutenant. He's like a bodyguard to me. I can't believe some joker in a restaurant shoots my brother for no fuckin' reason."

All the little birdies had flown out of this man's tree. I sat with my eyes straight ahead and my mouth shut, remembering what Bibia

Raymond turned to Bibia

I leaned forward and tapped Luis on the shoulder, trying the only Spanish phrase I'm familiar with. "Uh, habla usted ingles?"

"Shit, lady. What do I look like, a retard?" he said. His English wasn't even spoken with an accent, and I had to wonder if the gangbanger outfit was an affectation.

"Oh. Well, could you pull over at this next corner and let me the fuck out? I gotta make a quick phone call."

This did not produce the desired results.

I kept my tone conversational as I turned to Raymond, placing my mouth up close to his ear. "Excuse me, Raymond. Could you have the guy let me out up here?"

Raymond had run his hand up under Bibia

I was fully prepared to fling myself out, risking concussion and broken bones, just to escape from this brothel of faux fur and religious artifacts. I waited until the car slowed as we approached the on ramp to the freeway, then I slid my hand under the door handle and gave it a yank. Nothing happened. Both of the window cranks had been removed in the rear. I leaned my forehead against the tinted glass, staring out the window. Behind me, I could hear Raymond fumble with his belt buckle and the zipper to his pants. This was worse than an X-rated video. I turned and stared at them.

"God, Bibia

Raymond turned a sex-groggy face toward me, his eyes at half-mast. His mouth seemed gorged, his chin laved in lipstick, his hair standing straight up. The whole car smelled like hormones, sex juice, and underpants. Luis, all a smirk, tried to peer into the backseat through the rearview mirror.

I turned on him savagely. "Hey, Jack. What are you lookin' at?" And then to Raymond. "I'm sorry, Raymond. I know it's not your fault how these people act."

Bibia

Raymond actually seemed embarrassed, tucking in his shirt. He went through a sequence of behaviors that included the head jerking and the neck rolls.

I plowed right on. "I told her I got a steady boyfriend in the slammer," I said to him. "The last thing I need is watching you two get it on. God. She's got no class." I sat back in the seat, brushing imaginary lint off my black pants.

Raymond pulled out a handkerchief and wiped some of Bibia

"Well, I get sick of hearing her brag about you. Why can't she keep her opinions to herself?"

"She brags about me?"

"No, Raymond. I'm just saying that to hear myself talk," I said. "I don't suppose I could trouble anybody for some grub. We haven't had breakfast and I'm starving to death."

Raymond leaned forward and gave Luis a thump on the head. "What's the matter with you? Pull off here. Didn't you hear what the lady said?"

Raymond studied me with amusement, talking to Bibia

"This isn't spunk, Raymond. This is irritation," I said. Bibia

Raymond smiled at me.

"This okay, boss?" Luis, of the handsomely tattooed arms, was slowing near the entrance to a McDonald's on upper State Street.

"This okay with you?" Raymond said to me. He seemed genuinely concerned that the restaurant meet with my approval.

"Raymond, this is perfect. Way to go."

I ate three Egg McMuffins. If it had been 10:00 A.M., I'd have had a couple of QP's with cheese instead. Bibia

I got up from the table. "I gotta go to the can. Come with me, Bibia

"I'm fine."

"Well, I'm not. Could you pardon us, Raymond? We have to go do some girl stuff."

"Have at it," he said.