Mexico Fever by George Wier

Author:George Wier [Wier, George]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1533406561
Google: OAPhDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B01FYEU48E
Goodreads: 30243838
Publisher: Flagstone Books
Published: 2013-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

We waited three hours before Herlinda returned.

She came in through the back door and there was a hurried exchange between mother and daughter.

The girl came to me, put her arms around my neck, kissed my cheek and then disappeared into the other room, what I took to be the bedroom for the entire family.

Candace Monsiváis stood over my chair and looked down at me.

“I, too, think you are the Señor Travis.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“Did not the Texas people follow Travis without question?”

“I don’t know. There may have been questions. That was a long time ago, and nobody really knows.”

“These people, the people of Pisté, Yucatan, are preparing as you have said. They will be there when the sun goes down.”

“Thank you,” I said, and sipped my beer.

She took a seat beside me on the meager furniture. I could hear Herlinda pouring herself a glass of water. No doubt the little girl was tired. She’d just done the job of a full-grown woman or man.

“Tell me about Phil,” I said.

“Phillippe. He is my...”

“Half brother.”

“Yes. Brother of the half, and older than me. His father died long ago. He was born in this house—I am told he was born right there,” she pointed to the well-worn divan. “He was raised for the church, and one day became a priest. He was well-loved here. But he was always...angry. This is something not suitable for a man of God. Over time, he became very popular. Always speaking on behalf of the poor, always demanding more from the government.”

“Social programs.”

“Yes,” she said. “We have such things in Mexico, but like all such things, they are small and always come to the hands of those related to the ones who run the programs.”

I nodded.

“This outraged Phillippe. His voice grew loud and angry. Once, a child died in his arms from hunger and neglect. I wondered at the time, how can he become so angry when there are so many, not just the one.”

“Sometimes one is too many,” I said. “And one more is far too much.”

Candace nodded.

“Your mother,” I said, “did you love her?”

“She was a strange woman. She loved Phillippe, but I do not think she loved me. I took care of myself. Then, one day, she disappeared. Some say she returned to the United States.”

“Returned,” I said. “You were born there, weren’t you?”

“Yes. I am told I was. I am an American citizen.”

“How old are you?”

“I am younger than I appear.”

It all fell into place for me. I knew too much of Walt Cannon’s background for it not to. Her mother, Candace Bingham, was married to the U.S. Consul to Mexico. They lived in Houston. One night there was a fire at their home that killed her two children and her husband. It was believed, at the time, that the fire had taken her life as well, but she showed up again years later, and Walt Cannon had recognized her. If he didn’t know about the existence of his daughter

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