Free ESCAPE FROM AMBERGRIS CAYE by Joan Mauch Page B

weren’t what used to be called “buck teeth” but were
crooked, detracting from what was possibly a pleasant smile. With a well developed set of muscles the man had an attitude that
said using them on whoever crossed him would suit him just fine. 
    “Sorry.” Zac’d love to bust the guy across the mouth but since that wouldn’t get him anywhere,
he put his nice-guy face on and said, “I’ve never had Cuban food and wondered
what someone who eats here often would recommend. Do you?”
    “Do I what?”
    What’s the guy deaf? Digging
deep to avoid showing his annoyance, Zac said, “Eat here often?”
    A light bulb seemed to go on inside
the man’s head. His attitude went from rude and sullen to that of a
connoisseur.
    “Oh, yeah, I s’pose I do at that. Sure. Wadda ya ’ wanna know?”
    “What’s good to eat?” Zac figured
if he kept his sentences short, maybe the man would understand him.
    “Oh, lemme think.” He moved one stool over so as to sit next to Zac. “Myself I most always
order the ‘Real Cuban.’ It’s so good they got an award for it. Has crusty
bread, pork and ham with some kinda mustard-mayo mix,
pickle and Swiss cheese. Plus they include a dipping sauce.” He stopped for a
moment and swallowed as if in anticipation.
    Returning to the subject, he added,
“But don’ let me tell you what to order. Most anything here’s real good.” He
waved his hand as if he owned the place. “I’ve had it all. But the Cuban’s what
keeps me coming back whenever I want something special.”
    Right then the server approached
and both men ordered the Cuban with sides of fries and, at the man’s
suggestion, a Corona. Zac would have preferred a Coke but didn’t want to risk
offending him. He appeared to be teetering on the edge of some kind of
breakdown and Zac didn’t want to be the one to push him over.
    While they waited for their order,
Zac reached out and said, “Thanks for your help. Name’s Zac. I’m visiting my
brother for a few days.”
    Half expecting to be rebuffed, he was
more than a little surprised when the man grinned, shook his hand and said,
“You’re welcome. I’m Leon. Welcome to Tampa.”
    “Thanks,” Zac tossed him a smile so
big you’d think he’d just met his favorite rock star. “So what’s to do around
here for fun?”
    “Depends on how much ya wanna spend. You can go
high-end and do the town with shows, theater, expensive dining and women—or do
it on the cheap by going to the beach, the aquarium or a ballgame if the Rays
are in town.”
    “And how about you? What do you
do?”
    A shadow seemed to fall across
Leon’s face. His pleasant expression morphed into what Zac took to be pain.
    “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry,” Zac
feared he was about to lose the man along with what may well be his only
opportunity to get to the bottom of the Izzie situation.
    Clearing his throat and putting on
what looked like a forced smile, Leon said, “No, it’s all right. You weren’t
sticking your nose in my business or nothin’. It’s just that my girl and I,
well, we, uh, sort of broke up and I’m still dealing with it. Know what I
mean?” He stopped talking and took a swig of beer.
    “You kidding me? Broads can tear
your heart out, shred it to pieces and feed it to you on a fork. Been there
more than once, believe me.”
    “You’ve been dumped? Seriously?”
Leon set his beer bottle down on the counter and swung the stool around to face
Zac.
    “Hasn’t everyone? That what
happened?” He realized he was pushing the envelope. If he went too far, Leon
might shut him out and leave. But he’d opened the door and if the girl he’d
broken up with was Izzie, then he might have information on her whereabouts. He
had to at least give it a try.
    “Not exactly. My girl, man she was
perfect, drop-dead gorgeous—had these big blue eyes that just begged you to
take her to bed. Know what I mean?”
    Zac watched Leon become
increasingly animated with every reference to his