Free Long Way Down by Paul Carr

better.”
    “Double-cross me and I’ll tell him you took his money.”
    “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on seeing La Salle again if I can help it.”
    Marcus gave Sam his girlfriend’s number and got out. He stood there looking like a beaten dog as Sam drove away. The phone vibrated and Sam answered it.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” Candi.
    “I don't know what you mean?”
    “You drove off in La Salle’s Jaguar. That can only lead to trouble.”
    “He won’t need it when we finish with him.”
    A silence on the line stretched into a couple of seconds.
    “Where are you, anyway? I lost you in traffic going over the causeway.”
    Sam gave her his location and told her where to meet him in a half-hour. He drove to a garage run by a struggling Cuban businessman. Sam turned into the potholed parking lot and stopped next to the office. A small man with thick, graying hair walked out and leaned down to look inside as Sam lowered the window.
    “Senor. Good to see you.”
    “Hello, Hector,” Sam said, “I need to hide my new car for a few days.” He reached into the back seat, grabbed his bag and got out.
    Hector looked at the Jaguar and then at Sam and grinned.
    “Someone, perhaps, is looking for this car?”
    “Yes,” Sam said, “perhaps.”
    “Policia?”
    Sam shook his head.
    “No problem. It will be safe here.”
    Hector opened the car door.
    “Just a minute,” Sam said. He got back in the car, found the registration in the glove box and put it into his shirt pocket. “Okay, thanks, Hector. This’ll make us square.” Sam had loaned him five thousand dollars a few months ago, and Hector had repaid about half the money.
    Hector smiled and displayed a gold tooth.
    “You are too generous, Senor. I will make sure no one knows about the beautiful Jaguar.”
    The older man opened a large door on the end of the garage, got into the car and drove it inside. Sam watched as he pulled a nylon cover from a shelf and threw it over the Jaguar. He closed the garage door, locked it and held the key out to Sam.
    “You keep it,” Sam said.
    “Come into the office. I have cold beer in the icebox.”
    They went inside and Hector pulled two bottles of Dos Equis from a refrigerator that looked forty years old.
    “Not Cuban, but it is good,” Hector said.
    Sam nodded. “How’s business?”
    “Pretty good, especially today.” Hector grinned and handed Sam his beer. They clinked their bottles together and drank.
    Sam sat in a lime-green, plastic-covered chair that had seen better days, and Hector sat behind an old brown metal desk. An oscillating fan whirred on the corner of the desk, and soft Latin music emanated from a cheap CD player perched in the window behind Hector.
    A toy hula girl stood in suspended animation on the desk. Hector punched a button and she did a dance for them.
    “If only women were that simple, eh, Senor?” Hector shook his head and had a sad, faraway smile on his face. He punched the button and the dancing stopped.
    “Trouble at home?”
    Hector took a long drink from the Dos Equis and said, “Papa moved in with us, and he drives Consuela crazy.”
    Sam nodded as if he understood perfectly.
    “He just sits in the kitchen drinking coffee, talking about the old days in the cane fields, like they were golden times or something.”
    “Maybe they were,” Sam said.
    Hector tilted his head for a second, looked at Sam and grinned.
    “Yes, maybe they were. But Consuela does not think so. She says she is going to leave if Papa stays much longer.”
    A bell rang behind Hector's desk. Sam looked out the window and saw an old truck roll into the driveway. Hector drained his beer and went out the door to take care of business.
    Sam pulled the Jaguar registration from his pocket and saw that a company named NeoWorld Corporation owned the car. He called J.T. on his cell phone. “Anything on La Salle yet?”
    “No, there’s no record of him, as far as I can tell. And I’ve just about