Day of the Dead: A Navajo Nation Mystery by R. Allen Chappell

Author:R. Allen Chappell [Chappell, R. Allen]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: RACLLC
Published: 2018-04-12T00:00:00+00:00

11

Blood Ties

Chuy Mariano slowed the truck and pulled to the side of the road into a scatter of trees. Shutting off the engine, he rolled down the window to listen. He should never have left his father. On the rise toward town blue and red pinpoints of light flickered in the dark as a soft orange glow suffused the hillside to his left. He listened to the distant sirens, barely discernable over the sound of the pumpers already grinding up the road to the house. That was his Papá’s house on fire. It was clear what had taken place…but too late to fix it now. The realization brought no outward sign. Chuy had learned over the years that emotion was the direct enemy of decision-making. Even in the worst of times, he was able to rise above the sort of mind-numbing anguish that might immobilize another man. His own father had cautioned: “Never commit yourself to a lost cause.” It was something he’d been taught as a child.

Chuy had warned his father these men would be coming. The old man knew it, too, but insisted. “There is still time to take care of these Espinosas ourselves and not leave them to someone else’s justice. If it comes down to it, we’ll make the Sinaloa people a present of Hector and his nephew.” He’d chuckled at his little joke. “You go make the telephone call. I’ll watch these two. Your brother needs to know little Tressa and her ‘friend’ are on their way.” Sancho Mariano had survived many a dangerous encounter and thought he was still capable of handling this one himself.

Chuy, lost in thought, was about to start the engine again when he noticed the glint of parking lights, almost hidden, as they made their way through the underbrush headed for the highway. Those people must have been warned by the sound of the fire engines, Chuy thought, and only escaped by leaving just ahead of the bomberos. They came by way of the overgrown track behind the house. Chuy was fond of keeping his own vehicle parked there and for just such a reason. He wondered now if the assassins might even have watched him leave before moving in? A glimmer of teeth, his only sign of a now deadly resolve. God is watching over me after all, he thought, and crossed himself with a quick, Gracias a Dios. Releasing the brake, he let the truck roll backwards a bit to be hidden by the trees.

His Papa was dead, he was almost sure of that, but was just as certain the old man would have sold himself at a terrible price. His father would not have given up no matter the odds or threat of torture.

The law would be there any minute and there was nothing left to do but make sure his Papá didn’t make this last cold journey without the warm shroud of revenge. He would not let his Papá down this time. The full wrath of

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