Category Five by Ann Dávila Cardinal

Author:Ann Dávila Cardinal
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

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Despite the Escalade’s overpriced shocks, Javier’s and Carlos’s heads hit the ceiling like a rhythm section due to the hurricane-ravaged dirt roads. For some reason, the thick-necked driver didn’t seem to be bouncing as much. Probably from the excessive weight of all the muscle. Javier was not fond of driving around in the flashy SUV, but the body had been found in Esperanza, on the other side of the island, and he wanted to check in with Chief Dávila.

Even in the pre-dawn dark, it wasn’t hard to find the crime scene. Police cars were coming and going down the side streets with their ultra-bright flashing blue lights, and people were gathering on corners in small bunches. You could almost follow the direction of the onlookers’ glances like a GPS. They had gotten within a block when a uniformed cop stepped in front of the car, hand out in the universal “Stop” gesture. He stepped around the side, hands held at his hips, ready to grab weapons as needed. Javier had been straight for more than three years, but the sight of the midnight-blue uniform still made his palms sweat.

The officer was fit and crisp, and when Javier looked at the smooth walnut skin of his face, he realized he wasn’t much older than they were, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating. The man gestured impatiently for the driver to roll down the tinted windows, but Carlos pressed the button for his first. At the sound of the back window going down the cop jumped back and reached for his sidearm, until he noticed Carlos with his hands up, saying, “It’s okay, officer, I just want to talk to you.”

The cop’s hand didn’t leave his handgun in its holster, but he cautiously peered in. Then Carlos lowered his hands from his face, and recognition lit the policeman’s features. His hand came off his gun and a smile spread to his eyes. “¡No me digas! Papi Gringo, in my town?” And with that, the intimidating officer looked like someone you’d see at a club, or a Papi Gringo concert. “Man, what are you doing on Vieques?” He hit his head with his palm as he remembered. “The concert! Right! How could I forget?” He unclipped his phone from his hip and started typing on it. “Man, I gotta get a selfie for my sister! She’s never gonna believe—” And then he froze, looked up as if just realizing where he was and what he was doing, clipped the phone back on his hip, and stood up brick-wall straight. “Señor, can I ask what business you have in this location?”

Carlos smiled and removed his sunglasses in such a smooth gesture, Javier could tell it was much practiced. “My friend and I”—he gestured over to Javier—“are here to see Chief Dávila. We’ve done some … work with him in the past.”

Again, recognition spread over the man’s face. “Yes! Of course. I’m sorry, I should have remembered—”

Carlos dismissed the cop’s apologies. “No hay ningún problema, officer.

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