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16

BIBIANNA WAS ALREADY home, seated at the kitchen table, applying a coat of bright red polish to her nails. She was wearing red shorts and a halter top in a vivid jungle print, red, black, olive green, and white. Her hair was pulled up in a glossy coil on top. Luis was out somewhere walking the dog. I marveled that Bibia

Raymond glanced at his watch. "Hey. It's nearly five. Time to call your insurance agent."

My conversation with Mac was brief. Raymond let me handle the transaction without his ear pressed to the phone along with mine. I identified myself as Ha

"Yes, I've got it. Thanks for the information. I appreciate your help."

"Anytime," he said. "And keep safe."

"I hope to."

Once I'd hung up, I finished jotting down notes: policy number, my deductible, liability, collision, major medical, and death benefits. I was assuming Mac had set up a special policy under the name "Ha

Shortly thereafter, I heard Perro tapping along the walkway outside, his breathing hoarse and wheezy as he strained against the leash. Luis opened the door and the dog bounded in. Somewhere, in a brain about the size of a BB, this beast had suddenly decided he remembered me. He charged at me joyfully, knocking into Bibia

Bibia



Raymond rubbed at his fist, his self-control returning by degrees. Luis and the dog disappeared. My heart began to pump belatedly. Raymond was breathing hard. I saw his head jerk. He eased his right arm in its socket and did a neck roll to relax. The tension drained from the room.

His gaze focused on Bibia

Raymond stared up at her. "What's the matter? What's happening?"

"Nothing. Everything's fine," she said tersely. "Luis took the dog for a walk."

The moment passed. I was begi

Raymond smiled, indulging her, probably thinking he would nail her later.

When Luis came back with the dog, Bibia

The Aztlan was smoky, cavernous, ill lighted, occupied almost exclusively by Hispanic men whose eyes, at that hour, were turning slippery from all the alcohol they'd consumed. The laughter came in constant, raucous bursts that were sly and assaultive, very worrisome. There was, on the surface, a thin veneer of control. Under it, and unpredictable, was the boiling violence of youth. The Spanish music I was cranked up to a feverish pitch, forcing loud talk in f aggressive tones that even merriment couldn't mask. I took my cue from Bibia

While Luis fetched four more beers, we pushed through the crowd toward the back. In a second room about half the size of the first, there were three pool tables, two of them occupied. The felt surfaces looked as green as grassy islands under hot hanging lights. The dark of the ceiling was broken up by the blinking of multicolored Christmas tree lights that were probably strung up year-round. Raymond found an empty booth and Bibia