“No… they don’t, but my Dad became interested when the Norte?os tried.”
“No disrespect meant, but you kids don’t look dangerous enough to take on a gang like the Norte?os. I don’t understand why Neil thought your Dad could help me anyway. He’s a novelist, isn’t he?”
Annoyance streaked across Jean’s features for the first time. “Yeah, my Dad’s a novelist. We’re not here to beg you to let us help you. If you don’t want our help then see ya’.”
Jean walked across the street. Sonny, Quinn, Benny, and Sam followed her without more than a smile. Sam was the only one to glance back at Villa. A moment later after thinking about his son and what Neil Dickerson had explained the police could and could not do, Villa crossed to the Monte Café. Inside, an older version of the blonde haired Jean served coffee to the young people he had followed at a large table in the restaurant’s rear section. Sam the dog sat with his chin resting on the young Benny’s lap. Jean pulled a chair out for Villa. He sat down and the older woman brought him coffee.
“This is my Mom, Rachel,” Jean said. “Mom, this is Patrick Villa, a friend of Neil’s.”
“Glad to meet you,” Rachel said. “Would you like to see a menu?”
“No, thank you. Coffee is fine.”
“Just as well. My regular cook is out sick. The fill in is so slow, I’ve had three customers pass out from malnutrition before he finished their order.”
“I heard that,” a gruff voice called out from the back, evoking amusement from the crew at the table. “See if I ever fill in again, Boss.”
“You’ll fill in when I tell you to fill in, Muerto,” Rachel answered over her shoulder. “The kids are hungry. They ordered scrambled eggs not roast duck. Just remember to crack the egg first before putting it in the pan.”
“This is about the extra five pounds you put on, isn’t it? Heh… heh.”
“Uh oh,” Jean mumbled to much amusement as Rachel gasped. She dropped the dish towel and jogged into the back where a very loud initial commotion ended in relative silence. After five minutes passed without further noise from the back, Jean sighed. “Go break up the parentals, Sam.”
Sam leaped to do Jean’s bidding. In moments a startled yelp preceded a string of curses from Rachel. She peered around the corner of the backroom pointing at Jean. “Did you send icicle nose in to roust me, Scarface?”
“Leave Dad alone so he can finish cooking breakfast, Trailer Trash.”
“Sonny! Are you letting The Daughter of Darkness disrespect Momma?”
“If you ever want grandchildren… then yeah, Mom,” Sonny replied.
“Tyson Salvatore! Did you just pull the grandchildren card on Momma?”
“Had to, Mom. We have to solve Mr. Villa’s problem. It will help with our own problem concerning those rascally Norte?os.”
“Hey Hon! Gus called. They’re on their way with uninvited guests.”
“Okay, babe.” Rachel glanced around while walking to the entrance and locking the door. “Benny… better take Sam in the back. I don’t know how much noise Muerto plans on making.”
Benny scrambled to the back with Sam. Rachel sat down at the table next to Jean. “Here they come.”
A vehicle with open windows screeched to a halt outside the restaurant. A hooded man in the front passenger seat began poking a rocket launcher out the window while another man in the rear leveled a machine pistol through the rear passenger window. Villa yelped a warning and leaped from his chair, only to be grabbed by Jean.
“Wait one, Patrick.”
Two short bursts of automatic weapons sounded. The first pulped the rocket launcher guy’s head. The second ripped across the shooter’s chest in the rear. A third burst smashed the front windshield and through the driver’s head. A van drove to the curb at the rear of the vehicle with the dead men. Villa watched a black man with graying hair and a shorter Middle Eastern man run to the vehicles sides with silenced automatics. They fired into each body before an attractive Middle Eastern woman hurried to each body. She took digital pictures and used DNA kits on each. Before she returned to the car she looked at the restaurant with a big smile and waved. Everyone but Villa waved back. The Middle Eastern man pushed the driver into the passenger seat floor. He drove away with the dead people. The woman who waved followed him at the wheel of the van. The black man waited for a shorter white man with bush cut graying hair to join him from the restaurant back in jeans and a black t-shirt.
“That’s the Terminator,” Benny said from the backroom doorway with Sam next to him.
“You and Sam can join us now, Benny,” Rachel said as she stood.
Villa watched in terrified amazement as the two men laughed together before entering the restaurant together. Villa recognized the man Benny referred to as the Terminator. It was Nick McCarty. Retrieving the apron sticking out of his back jeans pocket, McCarty put the apron on. The two men approached the big table together.