The Mexican coffee Cary sipped was thick enough to chew and strong enough to etch the enamel off his teeth. For someone who'd been awake and on the move for two days straight, it was perfect.
After another swallow, he clinked the little cup down on its chipped saucer. Across the table, El Yucatango inhaled a greasy, rolled-up tortilla that dripped fried onions and emerald green sauce.
Though Cary knew he should get rolling again immediately, he'd felt compelled to linger with El Yucatango. He'd bought the masked man lunch in an outdoor café a few blocks from the zebra burro...after paying the ten dollar rescue fee, that is.
For some reason, he didn't mind the fee. He realized El Yucatango could have been working with the burro tender and his pal from the get-go, but it still didn't
