The Right Side of Wrong (23 page)

Chapter Thirty-seven

The rusty door finally opened with a moan and Cody stumbled through, pushed from behind. Four uniformed guards followed and spread out against the wall. Hands shackled together behind him, the young constable's appearance was shocking. His black hair stuck up in a matted mess. Dark circles painted by fatigue and worry surrounded both eyes. The left was blackened and swollen almost shut. Dried blood crusted the ear on the same side, telling Ned some right-handed son of a bitch had been working on him. Clearly, he hadn't slept in a week.

Cody brightened at the sight of Ned and John. He managed a wry grin, but winced when the movement broke open a crusted cut on his lip. Blood welled. His teeth were caked with food particles, making it obvious that brushing wasn't on anyone's list.

John felt a heavy lump settle in his stomach. Ned's neck and ears reddened. He laid a big, calming hand on his friend's shoulder. Before either of them uttered a word, Cody's eyes narrowed and he gave a tiny, almost unrecognizable shake of his head. “
Ya ta hey
.”

Ned was taken aback, and John wondered if he'd heard right. Was Cody's mouth so damaged he couldn't speak?

“This is your nephew?”
Capitán
Guerrera asked.

“Yes.”

“I do not think so. This
lunatico
is obviously a Mexican, not a
gringo
, or one of the
indios
from up in the mountains of Chihuahua. Look at his dark hair, his eyes, his skin. I believe he is
indio
.”

For the first time since Ned had laid eyes on Cody when he was only five years old, he studied the features the officer had described. “All right, he favors y'all in some way, but he's American.”

“He is
indio
.”

“All
right
. He's Indian, but that'd be Choctaw, not from any of the tribes down here. He's my kin.”

“You are not
indio
.”

His frustration mounting, Ned barely managed to contain himself. “No, I ain't. But we got Cody when he was little and raised him as one of our own. He's been ours since his daddy died, and his no 'count mama never knew him. He calls me Uncle, and every now and then he'll say dad, and I reckon that's what I am.”

“Do you have his
certificado de nacimiento
?”

“His what?”

Guerrera thought for a moment. “His birth papers.”

“I didn't think I'd need his birth certificate. It's back in Texas, in Chisum. I'll have to send for it.”

“That will take too long, my friend.”

Cody finally had enough. “Hey, I'm right here.”

Angry at the interruption from a prisoner, Guerrera snapped an order in Spanish at the skinny guard with a thick mustache. “Ordaz, silence this man.”

The sadistic guard grabbed Cody's shackled hands and jerked them sharply upward, causing him to hiss with pain as his shoulder joints took the stress. He bent forward to relieve the incredibly sharp pressure, his head bouncing on the table.

The room virtually exploded. “Hey!” Ned bellowed and started toward Ordaz.

“Ned, no!” Cody shouted and gave into the pressure. The other guards brandished well-worn billy clubs and showed they weren't afraid to use them. The door behind Cody slammed open at the bark and more guards poured into the room.

John yanked Ned back, putting his body between him and the threat. With no weapon at all, Big John doubled up his ham-sized fists and prepared to take a sure beating, knowing that at least a few of the
federales
, as he'd already come to think of them, wouldn't look the same the next morning.

“
Alto
!” Cody shouted over the rising noise of angry officers, his cheek against the table. “
Alto
, god
damn
it! Ned, John, back off!”

Hearing Spanish from Cody was almost effective as an ice water bath. Everyone hesitated. At least two of the Mexican officers were grateful for the interruption. They found themselves on the leading edge of the charge into the giant black man who'd already set his jaw for battle and appeared perfectly capable of singlehandedly clearing the room.

“Everbody calm down,” Cody spoke conversationally, his wrists still high above his head. He blew a fly out of his mouth.

Guerrera spoke quickly to his men, and they warily backed off.

Ordaz released the pressure on Cody's wrists. Sure they were finished making their point, Cody slowly straightened, chin bloody from his reinjured lip. “
Capitán,
can I speak?”

Guerrera nodded, his authority reestablished.

“Since there's enough of us in here,
Capitán
Guerrera, can you please take off these cuffs so I can wipe the blood off my face. I prefer not to visit with my relatives looking like this.”

After a moment, Guerrera coughed out a phlegmy, arrogant laugh. He issued a series of orders. Ordaz fished a ring of keys from his baggy pants and unlocked the cuffs.

With a flick of his wrist, Guerrera ordered the others to leave and assumed a relaxed stance against the wall. “You all may speak.”

“
Yah ta hey
,” Cody said, again. He wiped the blood away with his palm and cleaned it on his pants.

The Navaho greeting startled Ned a second time. Cody and Ned called it John Wayne Indian language after seeing the movie
McClintock!
at the Grand theater in Chisum. Mixed with the little Choctaw they learned from Miss Becky, the Parkers sometimes used it when the mood was light. In this instance, though, their spirits were anything but free.

Guerrera was equally surprised, and annoyed. He was used to conversing in Spanish to keep conversations private between his men and the
Anglos
they arrested who rarely understood their language. He also used it to make deliberations difficult for Americans when they came to bail out relatives and friends.

He didn't like the reverse tactic one bit.

For a long moment, no one said a word. Then Ned put both hands in his pockets and nodded. “I reckon I don't need to ask if you're all right. You look like hell.”

Cody kept his eyes on Ned, refusing to acknowledge Guerrera's presence. “This is a rough place. Glad you made it. They're taking me out of here tomorrow.”

“I heard.”

“To a
prison
. They tell me it's a lot deeper in Mexico.”

“What's the charge?”

“The
charge
is murder and moving illegal drugs across the border.”

“Who'd you kill?”

“Nobody.” He cut his eyes to Guerrera, but decided not to tell the whole truth. “Whitlatch and his men were murdered in the desert and they hung it on me, because I was there when it happened.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“That's what I told them.”

Guerrera spoke up. “Enough talking. You are not allowed to discuss the case at this time. It is over. He was caught with drugs and the pistol he used to murder four
turistas norteamericanos.

Arguing was useless. Cody stared hard at Ned and switched to what little Choctaw he'd learned through the years. “No
na hullo anumpa. Keyu oka, keyu tanchi impo
.

No English language. No water. No corn to eat.

For the first time in his life, John saw Ned shocked into silence. What were they talking about?

“What did you say?” Guerrera asked sharply.

Cody struggled to recall the words. “
Aki
, this
ofi. Tubi
,
ah
, me.”

Ned processed the broken Choctaw mix, especially the familiar word tubi,
kill
, and translated it into terms he understood very well,
My father, this dog will kill me soon.
Very clearly it was
get me out
.

“Son, I'm barely keeping up with you…”

“
Tubi
,
ah
, me,” Cody reemphasized.
He'll kill me
.

“You will speak English in my
presence
!” Guerrera snapped, and slid his own chipped billy club from the ring on his belt. It slithered through the metal with a promise of pain.

Ned ignored the man. If Cody was desperate enough to communicate in a language they barely knew, he'd try to understand. “When?”

“
Tombi. Oni
.”

Ned frowned, worrying with the translation. Then he realized Cody meant “ray of light.”
Tomorrow morning
.

Ned jammed a trembling finger at Guerrera. “How much will it take to get him out of here and home?”

The
capitán
smiled, showing brilliant white teeth. Here was the conversation he'd been waiting for. Now he was on familiar ground, the business he knew best, extorting money. He shrugged expansively, playing his role to the hilt. “This man broke our laws, the laws of my country. He killed Mexican citizens. He must be punished.”

“The man asked how much?” John growled.

“Much
dinero
.” Guerrera spread his hands as if sharing in their problem.

“Oh, so I
can
buy him out. So much for the law.”

Guerrera acted sympathetic, but the hunger for money twinkled in his eyes. “It is our way here,
amigo
.”

“All right. Give me the price to bail him out.”

“Ten thousand
dolares
, dollars, in cash
por favor
.”

That price shocked the three Americans. None of them imagined the cost would be so high. Ned only had two thousand stuffed into the top of his sock. There was no way to get the other eight thousand by daylight. It was legalized robbery, plain and simple.

“How about I give you a thousand now and take him with me?”

Guerrera sadly shook his head, feeling Ned's pain. “There are many people to satisfy. It takes much more to pay for what is…necessary.”

“Two.”

Guerrera's eyebrows rose. “You have that money with you? Now?”

“Of course not. I wouldn't bring it in here like this, but I can get back with it in the morning.”

“I am sorry. It will be too late. Tomorrow will be probably,” he spread his hands again, “
fifteen thousand
.”

In desperation, Ned rested his shoe on the wooden chair and yanked the cash from his sock. He pitched the wad on the table. “Two thousand, right now, and we leave with Cody.”

The clump of money lay there, slowly unfolding. The young
capitán
licked his lips and jerked his head to Ordaz to pick it up. The younger man quickly counted the bills while John shifted back and forth to bleed off nervous energy. “
Dos mil
.”

Two thousand.

Guerrera issued an order and Ordaz disappeared through the door. Another guard took his place behind Cody. Ordaz returned empty handed in less than a minute. All eight men stood in uncomfortable silence.

The tension was too much for John. “Well?”

Again, the brilliant white grin. “Well what?”

“Is that enough? Can we take him now?”

“Is what enough?”

In horror, Ned realized he'd been robbed, and there wasn't a thing they could do about it. “You. Son. Of. A. Bitch!” He reached for Guerrera's collar.

John barked over the roar. “Mr. Ned!” He knew exactly what was happening. For the second time that day, John pulled Ned away from the man he intended to kill.

The room again filled with warning shouts and threats, thickening the fetid air with tension thick as smoke. Guerrera uneasily backed against the wall and twitched the baton in his hand.

Ned gained control and stepped back. The room quieted and everyone waited for the next scene leading to the climax. John smelled the fear radiating from the guards, who wanted to be anywhere but in the room with the furious
Americanos
.

“He's right, Ned.” Cody squinted out of his good eye. “Y'all go on ahead and get out of here. Now you know how these people are. See what you can do from the outside, 'cause you ain't gettin' nowhere in here.”

It was a costly lesson, but one that Ned knew he'd earned. He was ashamed, and fighting mad. “Guerrera, it'll be me and you one of these days.”

“Is that a threat,
señor
?”

“It's a promise that I'll be visiting you again one day.”

“Come by any time. I'll make you a guest in our…hotel.”

Cody jerked his head toward Guerrera. “
Tanampi, me
.” Guerrera was
hostile, at war with Cody.
“Not you!”

Ned's blue eyes flashed at the
Capitán
. “It's both of us now.
Tanampi humma
.”

Cody noticeably sagged with relief when he realized Ned understood his situation. “Yes.
Chi pisa lachike
.”

Goodbye, I'll see you soon.

Lips tight, Ned nodded at John. “Let's go.”

The big man was already prepared for a fight to get Cody free, so he was surprised that Ned backed off from the battle. In his experience, the old constable never, ever gave up.

“We're done here, John.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Ned. Cody, you hang on. We was in worse not too long ago.”

“That's what I've been doing, John.” Cody didn't turn his head from Ned. “
Capitán
, can I hug my uncle goodbye?”

“Of course,” the
capitán
answered expansively. “By all means. Tell him goodbye. He is family.”

Ned stepped around the table and Cody met him halfway. The old constable wrapped his arms around the young man and felt him tremble. Cody barely raised his arms, resting his hands on Ned's hips.