Page 17 of No Sweeter Poison

Leticia cackles from the other end of the table.

“What was I supposed to do?” Diego pours himself a glass of orange juice. “Hold her hostage?”

I simmer in my seat. “A heads up would’ve been nice.”

“Ignore him,” Lettie tells our brother. She dumps a spoonful of scrambled eggs on my plate. “He’s pissed he got left high and dry.”

“And you know what,” Diego says, waving his spoon. “I respect her so much for that.”

When I woke up this morning Dahlia was already gone, having disappeared with the morning mist. I’m not sure what I expected but it certainly wasn’t an empty bed. Then again, I can’t blame her. I left her alone for over an hour last night and by the time I got back she was already fast asleep, presumably jetlag and the time difference having finally caught up with her. We didn’t exchange phone numbers and I don’t even know her last name.

Now I come to find out my idiot brother catches her on her way out and doesn’t say anything. Which means I have to go through the headache of searching every hotel within a five-mile radius for a redheaded American and her tiny cousin because last night can’t be the end.

I won’t allow it to be.

“As much as I love discussing our brother’s failed romantic exploits, we have a few pressing matters to discuss over breakfast.” Lettie rolls out a map on the table and uses the salt and pepper shakers to keep the edges down. “What are we going to do with the territory east of here? Garcia was supposed to inherit it but now that he’s gone, his organization is out of the running. His son is underage and his nephew lives in Peru.”

Diego wipes the corners of his mouth with a napkin and points. “We can redraw a new border and give the Sevillas the territory ten blocks north.”

Lettie shakes her head. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because we owe Luis Alberto Torres a favor. He wants that territory.”

I shake my head. “That won’t work either. It’s too close to Don Rubin’s part of the city and they don’t play well with each other.”

Lettie’s eyes flicker to me. “What do you suggest then?”

I drag a hand down the length of my face. We’ve gone over every possible combination of streets, avenues, shared borders, neutral territory, and still haven’t come up with a proper solution. How are we supposed to disassociate ourselves from this life if we still have a stake in the division of the city? And how do we properly break up our territory without provoking conflict?

Diego peels the skin off an orange. “I think this is a terrible idea.”

I look at him confused. “Owing Torres a favor?”

“Going legitimate.” He gestures with the knife in his hand. “This shit’s more of a headache than it’s worth.”

Lettie and I exchange a look. It’s our sister who speaks first. “It’s what Dad wanted.”

Neither of us says anything for a long time. I pick up a pencil and carve out a new path on the map. “It has to be this way.”

“You’re insane,” Lettie stares at me. “You want to give the area down by the water to Simon Betancourt?”

“I already made him the offer last night. He said he’s considering.”

“And did you tell Abuelo?”

I shake my head.

Lettie and Diego almost fall off their chairs.

“Hell no.” Diego abandons the orange. Not the knife. “I do not want to be a witness to a murder.”

I cut him a look. “You still have blood under your fingernails from last night.”

He points a finger at me. “I don’t want to be a witness to that murder.”

I’ve about had my fill of the Narvaez family business for one morning. If Lettie and Diego think they can come up with a better idea then they’re welcome to stare at a map of the city until their eyes bleed. I finish the last of my coffee and get to my feet.