That evening I took off my shirt and hung it on a fence rail and raked out the chicken run and horse lot and dumped a load of manure and decayed straw in the compost pile, then filled a bucket with water from the windmill pipe and began digging a line of postholes so I could reset the rail fence and enlarge the lot for Beau. It was a lovely evening. The sun had dipped below the hills, its last rays breaking into pink wagon spokes against the sky. The wind was blowing in the trees and I could smell wildflowers in the fields and bream spawning under the lily pads out in the tank. I almost didn't hear Brian Wilcox's car crunching up my drive.
He got out of the car and walked through both sets of barn doors into the lot. Behind him, I could see the Mexican drug agent, Felix Ringo, sitting in the passenger seat of the car, the window down to catch the breeze, his tropical hat on the back of his head.
Wilcox's mouth was painted with an ironic smile.
'You hang a revolver on a fence post while you work?' he said.
'Some guys blindsided me out here one night. I hate repeat situations,' I said.
'You know what quid pro quo is, right, one thing for another?… I'm doing you a big one, Holland, but I want something in return.'
'Go fuck yourself.'
'That's kind of what I expected from you, but here it is, anyway. Mary Beth is coming back to give you the testimony you need, but you'd better not drag your shit into our investigation again.'
'Meaning?'
'Our sun-darkened friend out there in the car is a valuable man. He doesn't get compromised.'
I pulled the handles of the posthole digger out of the hole and knocked the dirt free from the blades, then tipped more water from the bucket into the hole.
'Nothing to say?' Wilcox asked.
'Yeah, that guy was at the School of the Americas at Fort Benning. Their graduates have a funny way of showing up in death squads and torture chambers.'
'So maybe I don't like putting my fingers in bean dip. But the object is to make the case, right? All you've got to worry about is leaving us out of your trial.'
Behind him, I saw Felix Ringo get out of the car and walk toward us.
'When's Mary Beth coming?' I asked.
'I thought I'd get your attention this time… Tonight, probably.'
'I don't think you arranged this at all. I think she's coming on her own.'
He pinched a breath mint out of roll and slipped it in his mouth.
'You're quite a guy,' he said.
Temple Carrol's car came up the drive and pulled around Wilcox's, disappeared beyond the side of the barn, then stopped by the windmill.
Felix Ringo walked up to Wilcox, ignoring me. He smoked a cigarette in a gold holder without removing it from his lips. 'You finished talking here? I got to shower and meet a lady for dinner,' he said.
I heard Beau's hooves thudding behind me. I turned and saw him spooking back against the fence rails, walleyed, his head tossing.
I stared at Felix Ringo. 'He knows you,' I said.
Ringo curved his fingertips into his sternum.
'Your horse knows me?' he said, his mustache winking.
'Beau never forgets children or a bad person. You've been here before, haven't you?' I said.
'I been here before? The horse knows I'm a bad guy or something, 'cause he's got this kind of computer memory?' Ringo's fingers gestured impotently in the air.
'You were one of the guys who attacked me. I thought the guy had a gold tooth. But it was your gold cigarette holder I saw.'
Ringo removed his tropical hat, with the green plastic window in the brim, and wiped out the inside with a handkerchief.