GUMSHOES

Chapter 11 - It Was Nothing Personal

"We are approaching the border. They will come on board the bus and ask for passports and then ask a few questions. Just do as we planned and this will all be over in a few minutes."

Don Parco slouched in the seat, making herself as small and unassuming as possible. Her fingers went to the mask instinctively then dropped to her lap. The gloves would be suspicious, but she had her story ready. She just had to control her voice.

"Hemos llegado a la frontera," the bus driver announced. "Aduanas e inmigración estarán abordando. Tenga sus papeles listos".

The bus doors hissed open and a very serious man boarded, his sunglasses riveting each of the passengers as he took a notepad from the pocket of his beige uniform shirt.

"Papeles," He snapped at the first person closest, then moved slowly down the aisle, glancing at all the identification. There were a few pauses and short questions then he arrived at Don Parco's seat. She held up the document and he took it, staring at her gloved hands.

"¿Por qué usas guantes?"

She held up her bent fingers. "Crema para la artritis, es muy desordenado".

The officer looked at the papers and handed them back. Then he leaned down, one hand on the seat back behind her and one in front.

"Is a great way to hide jewellery, like rings and bracelets, no?"

The English threw her and she steeled herself to pretend she didn't understand, giving him a brief look and a shrug. The mask was suddenly an oven on her face, and she was afraid if he got too close he would see the charade.

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't speak English," the man in the seat behind offered. "I tried talking earlier and got nothing."

The officer stood up and held his eyes on Don Parco a moment, then turned to the other man, hand out stretched. In a few moments it was all over and the officer left the bus, but not before another long suspicious stare at the old man with the arthritic hands.

"He's suspicious," she said. "He asked about the gloves."

"And you told him it was because of the messy cream needed for your arthritis. You did very well," the man said, patting her shoulder. "Another ten minutes and we will be off the bus and you can change back."

******

"They came across at Tijuana, boss. We got a shot of the whole crew, the old guy must be Don Parco. That mask was fantastic, Boss- uh, right. We'll get a shot of her when they are on the move again. There were four, including her. Understood." The man got back in the car and relayed Hardy's message to the others.

"Are these the hitters as well?" One asked.

"They only mentioned two, and we got their names so it should be easy to check."

"We follow and take them on the road?"

"That's the plan. All of them alive unless they are the hitters, and for sure the broad. Hardy wants her kept safe."

"Can we get something to eat while we're waiting?"

"You go, Gus, and don't be long. If they come out, we're leaving."

The two men settled down and watched the entrance to the hotel Don Parco's group had hurried into, after crossing the border.

******

"God, I'm glad that's off!" Don Parco examined her face in the mirror, pressing and plumping different areas with concern. "I need a shower before we do any more travelling."

"Time is less important now," her guardian said, "the danger is past. Do as you please, señorita, we will make car rental arrangements and order some food." He retrieved the mask and placed it in his carry-on.

"I have a list of things I knew I would need, could you see to this as well." It wasn't a request, and for the sum their employer received for this service, she expected full measure.

Outside, the second guardian halted, a hand on his partner's chest. "I don't give a damn who she is, I'm not buying all this woman's stuff."

"Perhaps you'd like to call DeTega and explain your reluctance. I'm sure he would find some place else for you to spend your time."

The thought quickly sobered the man and he looked pained as his boss turned and headed for the rental company.

Down the street, in a car filled with the smells of tacos, burritos and enchiladas, the three men watched the argument on the sidewalk.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Something's not right, that's for sure."

"Looks like the guy coming our way is the boss, considering the attitude of his friend."

"Keep still, don't draw his attention, and if you get any of that sauce on my upholstery, I'll make you lick the whole car clean - inside and out."

"Calm down, Walter, I'm not - oops!"

"Oops? What oops? I warned you, Gus--"

"I was joking, take it easy. You gotta lighten up, man."

"Just keep your eyes open." Walter bit savagely into his burrito.

A while later they watched a car pull into the lot beside the hotel, and the man they felt was the boss, climbed out.

"They must be getting ready, that's a rental. Finish up this food - and don't spill anything."

"You wanna save the rest of this for later?"

"No, I don't want to save it. You're as bad as Gus, for Christ's sake. Chuck it out."

"Don't get nailed for littering, Lonny," Gus teased.

"Heads up, there they go."

The trio watched the rental car leave the lot and take the main road north, then they followed safely behind, their opportunity would come.