“I’d feel intrusive. Could I come over later? When’s the…”
“They’re doing an autopsy tomorrow. And shipping her home. No date for the funeral yet… Call us or come over. Later bye.” And she vanished into the dark.
He built himself another whiskey, and then another, staring into the fire with a feeling of dread he had never experienced before, even with Carole. He woke up in the morning in the same chair, stiff and headachy, with a foul mouth. After a shower, a handful of vitamins, and three pills, he knew he had to see Juan. A whiskey to strengthen his resolution calmed his shaking. When he arrived at the house he saw Aragon on the porch, waiting. As he opened the car door Juan stooped and picked up a whiskey bottle and staggered off the porch. He took aim and flung it at the corral, holl
