Double Shots, Donuts, and Dead Dudes by Harper Lin

Author:Harper Lin [Lin, Harper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harper Lin Books

Chapter Sixteen

We walked toward our cars, both parked on the street, and I tried to figure out how to ask him some questions without sounding like a total weirdo. As we neared the sidewalk, I just went for it.

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping”—although I wasn’t sure that it was eavesdropping when people had the conversation right in front of you—“but did I hear you say Pablo owed you money too?”

Eduardo nodded curtly. “Five thousand. He asked to borrow it a few months ago. He needed the money to give to Isabel for the kids.” He looked at me. “He never gave it to her.”

“He didn’t?”

He shook his head. “I thought he did, then a few weeks go by, and Isabel say he doesn’t pay for months. So I ask him. And then he tells me.”

“Tells you what?”

“The money goes—he has no money because he gambles it. He bets on sports. All of them. Baseball, football, basketball, hockey. Even your American football, even though it has the wrong name.” He grinned at me, knowing I would have thought the first mention of football was American football instead of soccer. “Whatever season it was, that’s what he bet on. Isabel knew he liked to bet on horse races and dog races, but this—the sports—was all new. She didn’t know. She maybe suspected, but she did not know for sure.”

“So, he was gambling away all his child support money.”

Eduardo nodded sadly. “At first, when I found out, I was angry. I yelled at him. But then after a while, when he didn’t stop, I just felt sad. I talked to him, and he would cry. ‘Just one more bet. Just one more,’ he always said. ‘I can make the money back,’ he said. ‘Just one more bet.’ But he never made the money back.”

With a pang, I remembered that last night. How hopeful Pablo had been. How excited he was about the lottery. How he watched the screen long after everyone else looked away. And how his mood had changed so suddenly after. Had the excitement, followed so quickly by the disappointment, been too much for his body to handle and caused the stroke? Or was that what someone wanted it to look like? Maybe someone else who was holding out for Pablo to make one more bet?

“Eduardo, did Pablo owe anyone else money?”

Eduardo looked down with a look I could best call shame. “He did. He owed a lot of people. People at the restaurant. His friends. He owed everyone. He owed his bookie too. He owed his bookie the most.”

“His bookie?” My voice held more shock than I’d intended. I’d wanted it to sound like it was just a casual question—oh, he had a bookie?—but it came out sounding more aghast at the level he’d gotten to. Of course, sports betting was illegal, so, outside of regular trips out of state that no one had mentioned to places where it actually was legal, it wasn’t like he could be betting huge sums without the aid of a bookie.

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