GRINGA (86 page)

             
Later on in the day, I corner the priest. ‘Please Padre,’ I whisper, taking his hands in mine. ‘say a special prayer for me and Diablo, please. We’re gonna need it. Please
! P
lease
!’
 

             
He frowns, probably at the tears of desperation filling my eyes. 

             
‘I will,’ he says. ‘But, you must come to mass, Senora.’

             
‘I will. I will, Padre.’

We honeymoon at
Marison’s
, a lovely hotel in the city
filled with American tourists
.

             
‘This is our honeymoon for
now,
’ Diago says. ‘Soon I will take you to a very beautiful place.’

             
‘Yeah, I’d like that,’ I say, mainly because I feel compelled to say something. ‘Somewhere exotic.’ I wonder how much time I have before the FBI discovers that I secretly married my
target.
I dread to think
about
what
’s
coming my way. 

             
As I prepare for bed, I smile to myself. I’m going to make love to my
husband
tonight. My
husband
. Mrs Cruz. Mrs Diago Cruz. I love his name and I accept it with pride.

             
Mr Cruz is happy to be married to me - I feel it in his tender touch, I hear it in his loving voice, I see it in his adoring eyes.

             
Payton Cruz, you are worthy of love after all, I think to myself as I bask in his love.

             
‘Diago?’ I whisper as we fall asleep, entwined in each other.

             
‘Mmm?’

             
‘You make me happy.’

             
‘
Te amor,
’ he grunts back.

             
‘Diago?’

             
‘Mmm?’

             
‘I’d take a grenade for you, too.’

             
‘Huh?’

             
‘Sleep my love,’ I whisper and kiss his chest.

.

It’s morning - the sun is shining, the birds are singing and I’m in my husband’s
loving
arms. I actually w
ake
up smiling.

             
‘Morning Mrs Cruz,’ Diago says as he plants a kiss on my forehead.  

             
I grin. ‘Say that again.’

             
He laughs and says, ‘Good morning Mrs Cruz.’

             
I smile.
‘Morning, oh husband of mine
.
’

             
We giggle and grope each other for a while. Then we got out of bed, shower together and dress for breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant.

             
I walk over to the blinds and jerk them apart. ‘Let there be light on the Cruz co
up
…’ I gasp at what I see. 

             
Two uniformed policemen stand a short distance away, looking directly at me. In the middle of them is my father in handcuffs. Behind them, I see police cars cordoning off the street - all with lights but no sirens.

             
Oh God! Oh God!

             
Is it five days already?

             
From behind the police cars, Grey emerges slowly and looks at me. 

             
I look at my father. I haven’t seen him since he was released. His head is cocked, his expression is pleading and he’s mouthing something feverishly at me. He looks so old and haggard, I quickly look away.

             
With a pounding heart, I glance back at Diago. He’s rummaging through his bags, unaware of the moral and ethical conundrum I’m facing. I look back at the hoards of flashing blue lights and wipe the sweat from on my forehead.

             
I have to tell Diago everything. Now is the time. He needs to know. He has a right to know. 

             
‘What?’ Diago is peering at me.

             
I glance back at my father. We lock eyes. The room spins for a moment. I cannot faint now. I take a few deep breaths.

             
I look back at Diago and dart away from the blinds. ‘Nothing. N … nice day …sun is …’ My throat feels like sandpaper.

             
‘Diago …’

             
‘Mmm?’ He continues his rummaging.

             
The bug – it’s still in my bag
!
I quickly snatch my bag and walk back to the window. I seek out Grey’s eyes.

             
He nods.

             
I walk back to Diago, my legs trembling. ‘Honey? Diago?

             
‘
Si
?’

             
‘Tell me about the policemen you killed,’ I hear myself saying.

             
‘What
?
Now?’

             
I nod. ‘Now.’

             
‘Why?’

             
I manage a shrug. ‘I wanna know
everything
about you. You killed them right? You told me you did.’

             
‘Well …’

             
‘You told me you did!’

             
‘
Si
. I … I …’ He peers at me. ‘I kill them.’

             
‘Who were they?’

             
He frowns. ‘Eh … Edwardo … Elvia.’

             
My breathing is raspy now. ‘W …why did you kill them, Diablo?’

             
‘Diablo? You call me,
Diab…’

             
‘Go on. Tell me. Please!’ I need to call him Diablo – it’s easier to betray him when I see him as my murderer.

             
‘They kill my mother and father and I say one day, I kill them. Then I find them and I kill …’

             
I clench my fists. ‘H …how?’

             
‘Aaaawww, Payton!’

             
I grab both his arms. ‘Diablo, tell me how. I’m a big girl. I’m gonna be a cop one day.’ It’s a huge battle to keep the desperation out of my voice.

             
‘I cut their throat and bury the bodies.’

             
I stare into his face. ‘Where?’

             
‘In the mountains.’

             
I place my hands on either side of his face.

             
‘I …I …you know that one day the cops will come after you and you …you will go to jail for that, right? Baby?’

             
‘
Si
. Is alright. I have to do it. I don’t sleep until I do it. They kill my mother and father, they must die. My mother she was a nurse for sick people. My father, he was a teacher. They good people.’

             
I look into my husband’s beautiful brown eyes and nod.

             
‘Your hands…they are shaking, Payton.’

             
Gently, I draw his head to my breasts and say. ‘I love you, Diago. I love you with all my heart.’

             
‘Why you
crying
mi amor
?’

             
‘
Because …because … I love you so much, Diago. I love you with every fibre of my sorry fucking being. Know what that means?’

             
He stares at me his eyes filled with concern. ‘Payton ...’

             
I release him and walk backwards to the window where I turn and look at Grey.

             
Grey nods.

             
My father hangs his head, probably with relief. 

‘FBI!’ they scream as they kick down the door and wave guns in our faces. ‘Put your hands up!’ 

             
Diago stares wide-eyed but remains where he is. 

             
I’m not scared, I’m not shocked, I’m just … hollow. I hope they shoot me while arresting Diago. Please let them kill me.

             
Depp moves closer, his weapon trained on Diago. ‘Get down, Payton!’ he snarls, his eyes never leaving Diago’s face. I don’t know where he came from because I did not see him outside.

             
I remain where I am, my eyes fixed on Diago.

             
Diago rises to his feet slowly.

             
The FBI goes nuts. ‘Don’t move!’ they chorus as they shove guns into his face.  

             
‘Payton, get the fuck down!’ Depp hisses. ‘Now!’

             
Diago looks at Depp and frowns. ‘You ... I know you. The artist. You are the artist.’ Diago’s eyes fly to mine, a myriad expressions on his face – confusion, disbelief, surprise. 

             
I avert my eyes, unable to look Diago in the eye.

             
‘Payton?’ he murmurs. ‘Payton?’

             
I hang my head.

             
‘P
ayton?
’ he shouts. ‘P
ayton
!’

             
The Feds dive at him and wrestle him to the ground.
As they
cuff him
,
they Miranda him.