Sangre De Toro (Old Draft - Now Published!)

Chapter 23 - Hello Again

By the time Rita and Dominguez finally got to Silvio the sun was retreating from the sky. Pepelito began sidling happily up towards the fence. Maribel stood chewing the cud from a distance. It felt strangely beautiful. There was nothing from Heather, but Rita was about ready to forget about work for today.

'Just there, Dios mio, he wasn't in a great way,' Silvio grunted, pointing to a thick, partly crushed patch of thistles and stinging nettles. The thick tracks of the gangsters' truck as it had reversed and re-reversed were still visible. Several goose feathers were trodden into the ground. Next time might not be so lucky, Rita thought with a jolt to the stomach, wishing she lived closer.

'Wasn't in a great way? You said he was dead!' Dominguez said, recoiling as Silvio's killer geese waddled towards him.

'Yes, that's right, he was.' Silvio sniffed and lit a cigarette. Rita grinned as Pepelito came right up to the fence and licked her. His coat looked much healthier and sleeker, and he was clearly so pleased to see her. Alfonso was coming soon, and after spending some time with their four-legged friend, they'd go home together.

'Hola dulcito, yes, yes, you're so good, toro, am I pleased to see you,' she grinned.

'How is he doing?' she said, rubbing his nose.

'He's great, being outside with Maribel has done him the world of good. He's got much more energy,' Silvio said, adding, 'Wouldn't you say so, my boy?'

Dominguez backed right away from the fence, towards the farmhouse door. Heather still hadn't emailed back, and Rita was both impatient for a reply and glad not to be bothered while she spent time with the animals.

'You must be Maribel,' she said as the elderly cow walked towards them.

'Yep, my uncle's killer cow herself,' Dominguez said nervously. Maribel's horns were sharp stumps protruding from her light brown coat. She was bigger than Pepelito and strode up to the fence looking tough, her huge udders swinging, then stretched her neck over the fence.

'Hello,' Rita said cautiously.

'Don't be ridiculous, boy. My old girl just sent some good for nothing where he belonged,' Silvio snapped.

'She killed someone, Silvio.'

Yes, looking at her posture and size, it was easy to imagine Maribel had killed. Rita picked some grass from behind the fence and offered it to her cautiously as the two men sat down on the bench together talking.

Rita took some water out of her bag and drank. Alfonso texted her to say he was on his way. You take your job home with you, her ex-husband always said. She'd felt oddly ashamed of asking Alfonso about Sonia Gutiérrez on their date. He wasn't a suspect. But he was entangled regardless because of his beliefs, the people he knew, the choices he made. While Alfonso treated Pepelito's wounds, someone was abducting and murdering Caroline McKenzie.

He – it was almost certainly a he - would have watched the corrida.

To aficionados, not fighting, being cowardly, a toro manso, was the worst 'crime' a bull could commit. Seeing Pepelito escape would have enraged this perpetrator.

He liked pain, he liked torture.

Denied his pleasure, he'd got it another way.

Rita watched as Pepelito and Maribel excitedly toyed with an old tyre from Silvio's truck, rolling it towards each other and chasing each other around the field. Watching them playful and happy almost reminded her of a younger Gloria. Even Silvio's geese added to the beauty, floating in the lake, or resting at the shaded end keeping cool in the heat. Animals were what gave her life. They were what kept her going.