Chapter Fifteen
Rum sloshed out of the glass on to the floor of the SUV as RJ tried to refill Lewis’s glass. Both were sufficiently lubricated that the spat at the restaurant was long forgotten. RJ knew he had Lewis at a disadvantage when it came to drinking. His liver had sufficiently pickled long ago so that what little he’d had wouldn’t make a dent in his mental acuity. In fact, he practically broke his arm patting himself on the back for the acting job he was doing with Lewis. Dumb bastard, wouldn’t know what hit him later. The trip to Esteli was long enough that by the time they reached it, Lewis would be clay in his hands.
“Amigo, another cigar? These are more of my father’s special reserve.” He opened a box and showed the rare commodity to Lewis. “We shared them at the funeral.” R
