Blurring the Line (7 page)

They continued eating and talking, mostly Beth talking, with Torres interjecting the occasional comment or question. Just as Beth finished her last bit of pancake, Flores arrived, alone.

Torres nodded to him. Just then Wanda walked by and Flores grabbed a menu from her hands before sliding into the booth beside Torres. “Coffee,” he said, snapping his fingers and pointing to an overturned cup. “Now,” Flores added when he caught Beth’s eye. “Move your ass.”

Beth’s shoulders tightened. Her gaze darted to the waitress. She tried to catch her eye, to smile, or apologise, let her know she knew Flores was a jackass, but the woman kept her head down. To most people she would have looked unfazed but Beth saw the tightness in her mouth and the subtle flair to her nostrils.

“Please is the word you are looking for,” Beth said in the nicest voice she could manage.

Flores’ eyes narrowed in defiance. “You going to control your woman?” Flores asked in Spanish even though he had just demonstrated his proficiency in English. His dark stare never left Beth. He was trying to intimidate her. There was no doubt it was the same dead stare he showed his victims.

Beth bit the inside of her mouth to stop herself from speaking or showing any sign that she understood him.

Torres laughed and said in Spanish, “I kept her up too late. She’s not a morning person at the best of times.”

Flores seemed to find the explanation acceptable. He looked her straight in the eye. “She’s feisty.” He stood up and announced in English, “I’m going to the toilet. Give me some bacon and eggs, sunny side up, none of this scrambled bullshit.” His stare never left Beth even though he was speaking to the waitress. He was challenging Beth to say something.

Torres leaned over and whispered into her ear. “Play nice,
Mami
.” There was an underlying threat in his words.

“I’m trying.” Her head was killing her. Normally she might be able to fake civility but she was in too much pain to deal with Flores right now. Just her luck he pushed her buttons. Rudeness to people in the service industry was a particular pet peeve. She had seen her mom be humiliated by customers, because pathetic people thought it was acceptable to demean and demoralise people to show their own power. Her mom had always smiled and brushed it off, reminding Beth, “What Peter says about Paul has more to do with Peter than Paul.” Beth would pretend to be wise and tell her mom she understood but inside it pissed her off. Flores speaking rudely to the waitress brought back all the anger.

With Flores out of earshot, Torres could speak normally. “You wear every emotion on your face. I can see everything you’re thinking. And so can everyone else. It’s not enough to say nothing. You can’t be openly hostile. You’ll get us both killed.”

Beth nodded. She doubted Flores noticed anything about her face. He was too self-involved. He only ever looked at her to intimidate her. She was a piece of meat like every other woman. It was only Torres who studied her. “I thought I was a good liar. Until I met you.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Flores returned a few minutes later. When he sat down he snapped his fingers and pointed to his coffee cup.

Beth let out a stream of air. She needed to stretch her legs, before she stretched her fingers around his throat.

She turned to Torres. “I saw a gas station next door. I’m going to go get some aspirin. I’ll be right back.”

Torres lifted a brow like he was going to say something but he remained silent.

Beth pushed passed a busboy as she headed for the door. “Sorry,” she mumbled, looking back over her shoulder.

She made her way across the street and bought a package of aspirin and a bag of M&M’s before she found her way to the curb and sat down beside a fire hydrant. Beth downed two aspirin without any water and then tore open the bag of candy. She wasn’t hungry but she needed them. She popped a single red sweet into her mouth and closed her eyes as the hard shell softened on her tongue. When the hard candy coating and the chocolate below had completely dissolved, she took another sweet, yellow this time, and repeated the process.

Beth breathed in slowly, letting the combination of the sugar and the fresh air relax her coiled muscles.

“Hey,” came a deep voice from above her.

Beth looked up at Torres, his dark head encased by a halo from the morning sun. Even though she shaded her eyes with her hand, she still had to squint. His broad silhouette looked like the cover of a horror novel: shadowed and ominous, promising to inflict all levels of emotional trauma. He surprised her by sitting down beside her.

“Still hungry?” he said gesturing to the M M’s in her hand.

“No, not really,” she said but did not explain further. She would use his tactics on him and let her silence loosen his tongue. It only seemed fair, as she had divulged more this morning than she ever had. No one at work knew she had grown up poor, hell, no one in Texas knew. The thought of anyone knowing her family received food stamps turned her cold, yet she had told Torres with no prompting.

Beth waited for him to say something, but the pause stretched from pregnant to painful. Beth popped another sweet into her mouth to keep from speaking, but this time the treat did not have its usual calming effect. She waited for the candy to melt before she said, “I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work.”

True to form, Torres said nothing, just continued to stare at her.

Beth sighed in exasperation. “You can stop now. We both know the game.”

Torres’ brow shot up in question.

Beth shook her head. “Please stop looking at me like I am interesting. I’m really not. You’re putting me off my M&M’s and that takes a lot.”

“I wouldn’t want to put you off your M&M’s. You seem very fond of them. Is that another California welfare thing? Did the state give out surplus M&M’s?”

Beth shook her head, annoyed at herself for telling him about government cheese.

Torres nodded, seeming to accept her answer.

He was doing it again. Beth popped another sweet into her mouth and then another and another, repeating the process of letting it melt slowly. “Do you realise how annoying that is?” Her frustration built as she worked her way through her bag of M&M’s with no elevation in her mood.

“Sorry?”

Beth reached into her bag only to discover that she had finished the bag. She wadded up the wrapper and shoved it into her pocket. “Are you kidding me? I finished the bag? I have never finished the bag. That’s how annoying I find all of this.” Beth stood up and briefly considered going back to the gas station to buy another bag but realised her coping mechanism would only work if she was removed from her stressors.

“You’ve never finished a bag of M&M’s?” Torres asked dubiously.

“Yes. No. Not like that. Oh never mind.” Beth threw up her hands in defeat. She turned to walk away but spun on her heel to face him. “I know what you are doing with the whole silence thing and it is not working. I am talking to you so you know precisely how annoying I find the practice, not because it is effective. You understand the difference. You even managed to ruin my M&M therapy, which takes some doing. I have never made it past ten M&M’s before I felt better about something. And I just finished the bag and I still feel awful. So please stop with the staring and the silence. If you want to know something, just ask me. Stop looking at me like I’m interesting, ’cause I’m really not.”

Torres’ eyes narrowed. “Why do you keep saying you’re not interesting?”

“That was your take away from that conversation?” Beth noticed that he was still staring at her but she didn’t mention it, instead looked at him with the same intensity.

“What did you want me to take away,
Gatita
?”

Again with the cat nickname. It was like acid on an open wound but she would not show it. She shrugged her shoulders. “I would prefer it if you didn’t stare at me. And stop with the long silences that make me talk.”

Torres smiled knowingly. “I see,” he said before, standing up beside her.

What?! What did he see?! Beth didn’t wait for him to finish his thought, because he wouldn’t. “What do you think you see?”

Torres leaned over and brushed a stray lock off of her face. “Just you, Beth.” His hands were worn and callused. Heat radiated off him, but his proximity, or maybe his words, made her shiver. His gaze was on her, palpable and hot.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Am I? What am I doing exactly?”

Beth shrugged. It would sound stupid if she tried to articulate it.

“You’re uncomfortable because I look at you when I speak to you? Is that it? Where I’m from we call that manners.”

Beth shook her head. “Of course- I know that. It’s just-you look at me like you’re studying me.”

Torres was silent for a moment and then he surprised her by nodding. “Sorry. Maybe I am. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around a normal person. You’re the only nice person I’ve spoken to for the last two years. So yeah, I guess I want to hear what you have to say. I’m sorry if that creeps you out.”

Beth sighed. “That’s kind of sad. Now I feel bad for you. If your only normality is me, then you have bigger problems than my failed M&M therapy.”

“What’s wrong with you? As far as normal goes, you’re pretty good.”

“Nothing’s wrong with me except I have overshot normal and entered boring territory.”

Torres shook his head. “You’re not boring. You’re nice, you’re normal, if that’s boring sign me up. I could use some of that kind of boring in my life right about now.”

“Sounds like you could use an M&M right now. Shame I ate them all.”

“Do you always eat M&M’s when you’re upset?”

Beth nodded. This time she didn’t wait for the long silence that always followed her statements; she just carried on talking. She may as well not fight it; she was going to end up speaking to him anyway. “Sucking on them slowly calms me down. I usually feel better after four. Until today my high was ten.”

“I’ll have to try it.”

Judging by his pronounced lack of body fat, she doubted he indulged in chocolate very often, if ever. “What do you when you’re upset? If you don’t drink and haven’t had sex since you went undercover. What’s left? You’re woefully lacking in vices. That’s just not normal. Everyone needs something that they pretend to try to give up.”

Torres thought for a second. “I work out. Not much of a vice, but it works.”

Beth nodded. “You must be upset a lot.” She realised too late that she had said the words out loud. “I mean…you know…it is obvious you work out a lot…you know…you’re very muscular.” Beth’s cheeks burned hotter with each word, finally she decided to take a leaf out of Torres’ book and just stop talking.

Torres’ mouth curled into a lopsided smile. “Sounds like I wasn’t the only one staring.”

Beth cleared her throat. “I’m very observant,” she said in her defence, though someone would have to be legally blind not to notice how physically fit Torres was. His body was like an anatomy lesson, everything perfect and oversized. Each muscle was well defined and distinct from the others.

“Apparently you are.”

And apparently he had changed his tactics from silence and staring to flirting. Beth’s cheeks were burning now. She shifted from one foot to the other. This was probably a side effect of being undercover too long. He was flirting with her because there were no other women to flirt with. It was the equivalent of being the last woman on earth. Beth glanced down at her watch. She didn’t care what time it was, she just needed something to distract her. She could still feel his gaze on her, her flesh warming under the inspection.

“I should…probably get back to the diner… I want to leave Wanda a tip. She shouldn’t have to deal with jerks like Flores.”

Torres nodded. “I already did. I left her $100 of the ill-begotten money you don’t want me to talk about. And for the record no one should have to deal with Flores, but that’s why we get the big bucks.”

There was a hint of sadness, or maybe regret in his voice. “OK. Well then I guess I just need to get home.” Beth paused to think. They were done, maybe forever. Once she told him she had identified Archila’s killer, she would have no reason to see him again.

Should she tell him?

She knew who Archila’s killer was. That was why she had tried to meet him last night, to tell him, but even now something stopped her. Last night she didn’t tell Torres because she needed his help, but now there was no excuse. Her head pounded as her conscience deliberated the consequences of telling him. She couldn’t be certain what Torres would do with the information, but in her heart, she knew. Telling Torres would be giving him tacit consent. But withholding the information would be a betrayal; he had only joined the DEA to find Archila’s murderer.

Beth took a deep breath. “Um…before you leave. I have some information on Archila’s killer.” She spoke quickly so she wouldn’t be tempted to change her mind. He deserved to know, he had held up his end of the bargain. What he did with the information was on him now. Whatever he did, she would ignore, it would become one of the many details she pretended didn’t exist.

Torres’ jaw tightened.

“His name is Javier Martinez. Does the name mean anything to you? We got his name from an informant but it checks out. He is known to the DEA. My partner picked him up a few years ago on meth charges. He is small time. He won’t get us any closer to El Escorpion.”

For the first time, he did not look at her. His eyes were glazed over, his thoughts somewhere else. He looked different again, like he had in the elevator. The switch had been tripped, all the warmth gone. In an instant he went from teasing to terrifying.

Beth’s skin went cold. Immediately she regretted telling him. She wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t like the world would mourn the loss of Javier Martinez. But this didn’t feel right. If Torres was looking for closure, he wasn’t going to find it by killing Martinez. “We can speak to the office in Mexico City. I’m sure they can bring him in by the end of the week. He would face trial in Texas—”

“No,” Torres cut her off.

“You don’t need to—”