CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Half an hour later, Vicente strolled through the outskirts of Nogales. The cantina stood up ahead, its neon sign of a shapely woman dancing with a giant bottle of beer flickering in the night.
He felt frustrated and impatient. All he wanted to do was to track down Luis, but he had gone too far to not be cautious now. This had to be done right. He had to pay a certain cantina a visit. Not because he wanted a drink. He had business to do.
Los Amigos Borrachos was a place he had often heard of but had never been to. His work had never kept him long in Nogales, and as an enforcer with a major narco family he had never required what the bar’s clientele offered.
Now he did.
A few tough-looking young guys hung out in front, leaning against cars and talking about nothing
