Faye Kellerman - Street Dreams

I realized that my own mouth was open and closed it shut. I had never seen this side of my father. I must have looked as shocked as Koby did when I took down El Paso. Behind the closet, Fuego started barking again-loud and angry, ordering a rematch with my father.

Renaldes was struggling under Dad’s bulk, but he was clearly outmatched. Pepe had some muscle definition but was on the short side-smaller than I was. He had a shaved head and dark eyes, which were popping out of their sockets. He had been wearing a terry-cloth robe when we barged in. Now it had opened up, revealing a chest inked with tattoos-a devil, a snake, a spider, et cetera, et cetera, yawn, yawn. It was hard to say anything about his complexion because he was bright pink from pressure and fear.

Decker pulled the gun out of Pepe’s mouth and placed it on his forehead. He whispered, “You went after the wrong person, amigo. ”

He choked out, “ No se- ”

“Shut up and listen!”

“ Por favor- ”

Decker tightened his grip. Renaldes was literally about to explode. “I said, shut up and listen! ”

He was on the verge of passing out. I brought my hand over my father’s fingers and pried them open, just enough to loosen his grip and give Pepe some air. Decker didn’t even realize I was doing it.

Decker spoke low and slow. “Someone shot at a cop last night. Someone in a bronze Nova with stolen plates. Now if you’re straight with me, guess what, Pepe? You’ll live. If you give me bullshit, you’ll die. Muy fácil. La verdad o la muerte. Comprendes, amigo? ”

The man’s head bobbed up and down. The dog was now thumping against the closet door. I looked around the room, then pushed the coffee table in front of Fuego’s escape route. I pounded on the door to shut the beast up. It worked for a moment, but then Fuego continued yelping.

“Who did it, Renaldes? Quien? ”

“ No conozco. I don’t know-”

Again the gun was shoved down Pepe’s throat. Decker counted to ten. “Let’s try it again. Quien tiene un carro -a bronze Nova?”

Renaldes’s eyes rolled back. My heart was beating a mile a minute, adrenaline pumping through my system. Fuego was damn near hysterical. “He’s losing consciousness!” I called out over the barking. “Ease up!”

My father regarded my face, his eyes as feral as any zoo animal I’ve ever seen. I think he forgot about me.

“Ease up!” I repeated louder.

Decker lessened his grip and took the gun out of Pepe’s mouth.

“Sit him up,” I told my father. “I’ll get a glass of water.” I patted Pepe’s red and sweaty face. “I can’t control him for too much longer. Don’t piss him off.”

I went into the kitchenette, banging on the closet door as I walked past it. My chest hurt and I could barely catch my breath. The sink was filthy, filled with crusted dishes from the Jurassic age. Little black ants were crawling on the countertop. I opened a cupboard and searched for a clean glass. I found a couple of blue plastic mugs and filled one with cloudy tap water. I debated taking a drink myself but nixed the opportunity to hydrate myself, fearing unseen microbes. I brought it back to Pepe, again banging on the closet door as I passed it.

I think Fuego started to get the hint. His resumption of barking was slow on the uptake.

Pepe was sitting on the couch next to my father, his bald head down, hands clasped and shaking. My father was standing over him, the gun still in his right hand. I gave the small man the water. He drank greedily and actually thanked me.

“You okay?” I asked Pepe.

Renaldes eyed Decker. “He es crazy!”

“Excitable,” I corrected.

Decker growled at me. “You want to ask him about the Nova, hotshot?”

“Take it easy,” I responded testily.

“My finger’s getting itchy.”

I rolled my eyes at Pepe. His eyes said thank you. Somehow Decker and I had fallen into “Good cop/bad cop,” except it wasn’t completely playacting. I sat next to Pepe.

“Sunset and Marchant… a little after twelve o’clock last night. Bronze Nova, tinted windows, primer on the driver’s door, dented hood, stolen plates.” I gave him the numbers. “They shot out a ’92 black Toyota Corolla. There was a cop inside the car. Big trouble, Pepe. You don’t want anything to do with it.”

“I don’t know nothin’.”

Decker shoved him against the back of the couch, water splashing all over his bare chest. Renaldes’s face went white with fear.

“Will you stop?” I scolded. I got up to get a towel, banging the closet door as I went. I found several napkins purloined from Tasty Taco and gave them to Pepe to wipe off the droplets.

Again I sat next to him. I said, “Renaldes, we have a credibility problem.”

He gave me a blank look.

I said, “I don’t believe you. No creo you.”

Decker smiled.

I said, “Look you are in very serious trouble. Mucho problemos, usted tiene. Comprendes? ” I glanced at my father. “Could you translate this?”

“No need. He understands perfectly.”

“You’re a big help.” I turned to Pepe and pointed to Decker. “He’s crazy.” I pointed to myself. “I’m not. Work with me, Pepe.”

“I was no drivin’ last night. I here.”

“Who can alibi you other than Fuego?”

A blank stare.

My eyes went to my father’s face. “Please?”

Dad asked the question in Spanish.

Renaldes shrugged, shook his head. “I here,” he repeated.

“Alone?” I asked. “ Solo? ”

“ Sí, solo. ”

“Bullshit!” my father spat out. He placed his gun on the top of Renaldes’s head.

Gently, I pushed it away and touched my forehead with an index finger. I studied Pepe’s face. His complexion had gone from fire to ice; it was now holding a sickly blue pallor. I said, “Renaldes, I believe you. But he doesn’t and that’s a problem.”

Pepe’s eyes darted back and forth. “I no there. I don’ know!”

Again my father showed him the gun. I chided him with a wag of the finger. To Pepe, I said, “Look, I got an idea. Tell me who owns the car and maybe I can get this guy”-a thumb in Dad’s direction-“maybe I can get him off your back.”

His eyes went from my face to Decker’s. I’m not sure he understood everything, but he sure understood the tone. Dad translated what I had told him. Renaldes turned his attention to me.

“Wha’ car?”

“A Chevrolet Nova. Bronze. Primer on the driver’s side. Tinted windows. Dented. Old.”

Renaldes said, “I don’ know de carro. I don’ know who drive… I no there. Pero si el carro es caliente … if eet’s hot, I know de peoples dat… de peoples dat chop.”

My father and I exchanged glances.

Pepe sensed a reprieve. “I give you de numeros … de address.”

Dad said, “No, you’re going to show us the address.”

Renaldes looked at me. I regarded my father. “We’re driving a two-seater.”

“So give him a thrill. Sit on his lap.”

Pepe told Deckerthat he kept his clothes in a box under his bed. I pulled it out and the Loo selected a couple of items, keeping the gun on Renaldes as he got dressed. I took the opportunity to look around the place, periodically knocking the closet door to keep the dog quiet. I was beginning to feel sorry for the beast, but then I seemed to recall some trivia tidbit stating that a pit bull’s jaw could apply around two thousand pounds of pressure. The image of half my face gone kept me honest.

Rifling through his drawers, I found a bag of pills and a pistol-a Colt.32, fully loaded. I showed it to my father while Pepe tied his sneakers.