Chapter 9: El Jabato—The Boar
Chapter 9
El Jabato—The Boar
Four weeks ago—Monterrey, Mexico
Carlos Cortes sat at the patio table peeling the last piece of melon from the rind. He stabbed it with his knife, popped the melon into his mouth, and savored the sweetness. Tomás handed him a dish of water and a napkin to clean his hands and to wipe sweat from his forehead. Carlos buttoned up a white linen shirt as he stood, tufts of black hair over lightly tanned skin peeking through the shirt. He tucked the shirt into white linen pants, pushed the chair back and headed for the door. He was a Spaniard, not Mexican, and the light skin and air of superiority that accompanied that clung to him like the sweat of an August day in Monterrey.
“Where is he?” Carlos asked, walking across the flagstone
