Free The Demon Hunters by Linda Welch Page A

expect a young man of Ernesto’s youth and background to
show interest in. Then I did an impersonation of Entertainment
Tonight, updating on the celebrity gossip.
    Ernesto leaned back on one elbow, eyes
half closed, face wearing a look of desperation, the front of his
body drenched red. On the night he died, he was determined to get
up the last step and into the house, but he didn’t make
it.
    As I slouched there, the top half of
me in shade, my legs in the sun and starting to burn through the
denim of my Levis, I thought of all the things Ernesto would never
do. He would never grow up, never fall in love, never have a
family. And never watch his children grow into little
gang-bangers.
    “ Your turn,” I eventually
said.
    “ Aw . . .
c’mon.”
    “ Next time, Ernesto. Now,
do you have anything for me or not?”
    He sat up. “I seen it all. I seen his
lady come down here when half a dozen Nor‘side punks had him. I
seen them flyin’ all over the place. I seen her take a bullet for
him.”
    Whoa! “When?”
    “’ Bout a year ago. Craziest
thing I ever seen.” He looked at me out the corners of his eyes.
“You wanna know more?”
    You bet I did. “I don’t know if it’s
relevant to his disappearance, but go on,” I said
casually.
    He pointed south along the street.
“Down there. ‘Bout eight at night. They was out for his blood.
Couldn’t see good, but I seen them round him an’ she comes outta
nowhere. Then, like she disappears an’ they fallin’ all over an’
then she’s back in the middle of them. One of them, he has a gun
an’ he shoots her. Then they run off. Rio, he picks her up an’
takes her away. I thought she’d had it. But I see her down here a
couple times after an’ she’s fine.”
    “ This was a year
ago?”
    “ Uh huh.”
    I didn’t know what to make
of any of that, but it sounded like a rival gang went after Rio and
Gia took a bullet for him. And she said he didn’t have enemies?
The little feuds were over?
    I stored it away for future
consideration. “What else? I’m looking for something
recent.”
    “ Big black automóvil goin’ up an’
down past the Borrego place three nights runnin’, a couple weeks
ago. Fancy. Musta cost a bundle.”
    My hip numbed up. I shifted on the
hard step. “You didn’t happen to get the license plate?”
    He shook his head. “But it came past a
half-dozen times or more each night an’ it went real slow. Big
black bastard.”
    “ You said that. Big black car isn’t much
help.”
    “ Foreign make. Older model.
Mint condition. Mercedes-Benz.”
    I whistled
appreciatively. There couldn’t be
many older-model Mercedes-Benz in the area. If it was still in the
area.
    I got to my
feet and dusted off my backside.
“Nothing else?”
    Ernesto shook his
head.
    “ Then I’ll be
going. I’ll see you later, ‘Nesto.”
    “ Yeah, yeah. Yous
just go on with your life, lady. Leave me here sunnin’ on the
porch.”
    I waved and started
off.
    “ Hey! You
hear anythin’ ‘bout that bastardo Mallaca?”
    As far as I knew, Jose
Mallaca had served time, had his sentence remitted and left the
state with his family, and Ernesto should know it. Like many
shades, as time passed he became forgetful. I looked back. “I’ll
try and find out for you.”
    “ Gracias. Voy a esperar por ti. ”
    Yeah, he’d be waiting for
me. He wasn’t going anywhere and only I could talk to
him.
    I went back to my car, got in and
pulled away from the curb. Ernesto waved. I waved back.
    I felt the pressure of eyes
as I drove down the street. The residents watched me, and I’m sure
they wondered what the crazy white woman was up to, getting out her
car and sitting on the steps of an old, deserted, ramshackle house
for over an hour. Maybe they saw my lips moving. Maybe they grinned
at one another and made loco signs with their hands. If another person had
strayed in their territory, they would have wandered over, gathered
around and looked menacing. Perhaps they would