I blew out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”
“No problem and I just wanted to apologize for everything that happened. I know you didn’t get paid and since I didn’t either, I think you should let me figure out something else for you to earn a little extra money… You know, to make up for that mess.”
That sounded really good, but I felt guilty asking my friend to go out of his way. I shrugged. “If you find work and need someone extra for helping, then you call me but it’s no necesario, Marcello.”
“I’ll call around. Maybe find something for both of us.”
I smiled at him and reached out, patting him on the shoulder. “Mi amigo.”
We spent the rest of the drive talking about stupid things his brother and sisters did. I laughed, which felt good. I had a feeling that Marcello was deliberately trying to keep my mind off what had happened with the cartel which was very nice. He really was a good friend.
Oddly enough, there seemed to be a maturity about him that was even more pronounced than usual. He’d always been a bread winner, helping his mamá with the finances, but this felt different to me. He seemed to have grown into a man overnight. He was still the light-hearted Marcello on the surface, cracking jokes that made me laugh as he drove, but there was an underlying seriousness to him that I normally gave to older,wiser people. When the conversation turned to Rex, it felt natural.
“So, this agent, Rex. You guys talk. Sort it out?”
I couldn’t help the broad smile that crossed my face at the thought of the handsome man I was falling hard for. “Si, Rex, we talk. Misunderstanding with work. Is okay now.”
“Okay, that’s good,” he said.
I turned to look at him, noting the stoic expression that he wore for only a second before the normal, jovial Marcello was back. I couldn’t help feeling a little weird.
“How long have you known him?”
“Not long, but I really like him. He pick me up from work.”
“But what do you know about him, Cachi?”
It was a strange question. Actually, all of Marcello’s questions were strange. We usually had light-hearted conversations about our love life, but he never probed the way he was doing now. He wasn’t acting like he normally did when we were together, but maybe that had something to do with the situation yesterday. He and the other valets had seen everything that had happened to the cartel guy, so he was probably feeling freaked out just like I was.
“I think he not a normal agent with the FBI. He do something else.” I suddenly remembered seeing Rex holding a rifle case yesterday. I’d seen cases like them in the movies. I think Rex—he’s a—” I couldn’t think of the word in English. Instead, I mimicked holding a rifle and looking through a scope.
Marcello’s mouth opened as he turned to me. “Oh, he’s a sniper?”
I suddenly remembered the word from the video games I’d played with Marcello’s brother, Franco, so I nodded. “Si, Rex, he is sniper.”
“So, he’s on a Tac Team with the FBI?”
I shrugged, not knowing what that was since Rex had never explained his job to me. “Maybe. He never say.”
“And you think he’s a good guy?” Marcello scoffed. “Snipers kill people, Cachi. That’s what your friend does for the FBI. He kills people.”
I was really annoyed. He didn’t know Rex. How could he judge him solely from his job and why were there suddenly all these questions about him. Marcello was curious by nature, but he’d never given me the third degree about guys I dated. I did know this. I definitely didn’t want to make Rex look bad in any way. “I don’t know.” I pointed to a freeway sign, relieved to see we were approaching Skirball Center Drive.
“I see it,” Marcello said, taking the off-ramp. When he turned onto Roscomare Road a few minutes later, my stomach rolled. After this, I knew I’d never come back here again. I didn’t even want to be here now. When I spotted remnants of yellow tape tied to trees near the gated community, I felt like throwing up. Thankfully, my car was still parked at the curb a block away. I was worried that the FBI or LAPD would have had it towed away. It wasn’t close enough for me to see bloodstains on the ground and I knew I would’ve lost it if I’d been forced to see signs of the shooting all over again.
Marcello pulled up behind my car, and I dug my keys out of my pocket, thankful I still had them because they’d been in the pocket of my Dickies when everything happened.
I turned to my friend who was watching me with a serious expression on his face. “Thank you, Marcello.” I offered him asmile which he didn’t immediately return. Instead, he seemed to want to say something to me. He reached out and put a hand on my knee.
“You know I’ll always be your friend, Cachi.” He didn’t smile.
“Of course, and you always be my friend, Marcello.”
“And you know, if you’re ever in trouble, you can call me.”
I frowned, wondering if he was trying to say something that I just was too stupid to understand. “Si, I know, Marcello. You are good friend.”
He nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer. I stared at him. He still looked torn, like he really wanted to say something more, but since he didn’t, I checked my watch. “I sorry, Marcello, but I need to work. I late.”
