man, with a kind heart. If Sunny had liked fair men, he’d have been at the top of her Christmas list. But she had a gnawing yen for an olive-skinned man with black dancing eyes.
“Hi, Captain Hollister,” she greeted him, smiling.
“Hi, Sunny. How’ve you been?” he asked gently.
“Life is hard, then you die?” she teased.
He grinned. “So it is. Can I buy you a cup of coffee in the canteen so you can stay awake while we talk?” he asked. It was morning. She’d been up all night and she was tired. He knew it without being told.
“Sure you can,” she said, stifling a yawn.
* * *
He led her into the canteen and purchased two cups of black coffee from the machine. He placed one in front of Sunny as he dropped his tall frame into the chair. There were only a couple of people in the canteen so far, an elderly couple she recognized from the cancer ward; they had a grandchild there, in serious condition.
She forced her attention back to Hollister. “Are things so bad that the brass has to work cases now?” she teased.
He laughed shortly. “I ducked out of a meeting and said I’d promised to help Lt. Marquez interview a witness. I hate administration. I miss working cases.”
“You were good at it,” she said, smiling. “How can I help?” she asked.
“It will be hearsay, and not worth beans,” he began. “But I wondered if your young patient said anything after he went on the ward?”
She hesitated. This was a slippery slope. Anything a patient told her wasn’t supposed to be shared with anyone without permission from the administrator. It was to protect the hospital from lawsuits, that modern pastime that so many people seemed to love.
He chuckled. He produced a signed paper and handed it over. “I always go through channels when I have to. Recognize that signature?”
She did. She’d seen it on memos often enough. It was the hospital administrator’s.
“Okay, then,” she said, relaxing. “He hasn’t said much. He hasn’t had visitors, either. But he did say something, last night,” she confessed. “Although, it was an odd sort of comment, and I’m not sure he was completely out from under the anesthesia at the time. You know that it can make you goofy for a few days after surgery?”
“I know it all too well,” he said somberly. “I’m carrying about three ounces of lead in my carcass that they could never remove.” His face hardened, as if he was remembering how he collected that lead.
She cocked her head.
“Give it up,” he said with faint amusement. “I don’t talk about my past, ever. Well, maybe to a local priest, but he’s an old friend.”
She pursed her lips. She knew a priest downtown who was a former merc. He did a lot of outreach work. “I wonder if we could possibly be thinking of the same priest?”
He glowered at her.
She held up both hands in mock surrender. “Okay, I’m done. Honest.”
He shook his head with a heavy sigh. “Some people!” he scoffed.
She grinned at him. He’d been so kind when she was living through her own tragedy.
“Okay. What did he say?”
She sipped black coffee. It was at least strong enough to keep her awake, if badly brewed. She made a face.
“Listen, if you’d ever had coffee made over a campfire with the grounds still in it,” he began.
She sighed. “Good point. At least it’s not that bad.” She lifted her eyes to his pale ones. “He said that he loved wolves, and that his boss was getting ready to poison a few snakes.”
Hollister whistled softly. “Oh, boy.”
“Like I said, it could have been the aftereffects of the anesthesia.”
“Or it could be code for what’s really happening.” His eyes narrowed. “You know what’s going on. Your hospital got the last two victims...the dead kid who was in Los Serpientes, and the wounded Lobitos member who skipped out before police could question him.”
She nodded. She was thinking of Tonio and the treatment he’d had at the hands of Rado and his friends. She worried for him.
“There’s a gang war starting,” Cal told her. “I don’t want a gang war in San Antonio. I still remember the last one and it makes me sick at my stomach.”
“I remember it, too.” It was the one that had resulted in her family’s death.
“I’m going to set up a task force,” he said. “We have a Texas Ranger here with a good knowledge of gangs and gang activities. I’m going to ask him to join.”
“Does he know about this latest shooting?”
He smiled secretively and glanced past her. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
She half turned in her chair, and there was John Ruiz, staring at the two of them with narrow black eyes. And he wasn’t smiling.
“We were just talking about you,” Hollister chuckled.
“Was it something printable?” John asked as he joined them at the table.
“Mostly.” He held up a cup. “Want coffee?”
“I have too much respect for the beverage to ever drink it out of that counterfeit machine,” John said haughtily.
“It makes very nice hot chocolate,” Sunny said in its defense.
“It also steals dollar bills,” John muttered. “Someone should give it an attitude adjustment.”
“You wouldn’t ever have gone down to Palo Verde with a baseball bat?” Hollister asked hesitantly, and with a grin.
John chuckled in spite of himself as he pulled up a chair and straddled it. “No, but I understand the officer who did is still paying off the damage on a monthly basis. The circuit judge put the fear of God into him.”
“What am I missing?” Sunny asked, her eyes glancing off John’s. A faint blush colored her high cheekbones and he seemed to relax, all of a sudden.
She didn’t realize that he’d seen her with Hollister and that he was suddenly jealous. The other man drew women like flowers drew bees. Her flush delighted him, because it was proof that she was more attracted to him than the good-looking blond man sitting with her. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind since he’d seen her in the cathedral. Crazy, to feel possessive about a woman he hardly knew!
“There was a soft drink machine
