The Sometime Sister by Katherine Nichols (ebook reader for comics .txt) 📕

a dark side. Prez returned with our drinks, and I took a cautious sip. The tangy taste of wheat balanced nicely with a sweet tartness. If it was drug laden, I couldn’t tell.

Our bartender continued his narrative on the virtues of Montañita. Harry encouraged him with general questions and suggested we share a pitcher.

I drank slowly and noticed my companions did, too. Both kept refilling Prez’s glass while the younger man praised his new home for its festive and open qualities. After about an hour, he was slurring his words. That’s when Harry got more specific.

“Montañita sounds almost too good to be true. Rumor is things get a little dicey if you land on the wrong side of certain people here. Local gangsters and thugs.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Prez’s tone sharpened, and I wondered if he was as drunk as I’d thought.

“When we were in Guayaquil, a friend told me we should be careful here who we offended. He mentioned somebody named Balsuto, Adelmo Balsuto, I think.” Harry started to refill Prez’s glass, but he covered it with his hand.

“I’m good, thanks,” he said and rose from the table. “You guys seem cool and all, so I’m going to help you out. Like I said, everybody’s pretty laid-back here, but it’s not smart to go around mentioning names and asking questions. Unless you’re interested in doing some business.” He looked at Justin.

“And if we did want information on, say doing a little exporting?” Justin asked. “Would you be able to connect us with the right people? There’d be a finder’s fee for you.”

“I can’t make any promises, but it’s possible I could put you in touch with some guys.” He picked up the empty pitcher. “Better get back to the bar.”

Harry waited until he was out of earshot before speaking.

“That guy’s a piece of work,” he said.

“Agreed, and I bet he has at least a working knowledge of the criminal element here in paradise.” Justin drained his glass. “I can’t speak for you two, but I’m starving. Mr. Chamber of Commerce recommended a place before you joined us, Grace. Best Mexican food in town, he says.”

I got up too quickly and stumbled against my chair. Justin noticed and took hold of my elbow to steady me. “I just realized I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I might be a little drunk.”

“I’ll settle the bill, and we can go straight to the restaurant,” he said, without releasing me. “I don’t see our bartender anywhere.”

“I’m sure he’ll run a tab. Or maybe the drinks are on good old Prez,” Harry offered.

On the way to the car, I glimpsed our bartender, talking on his cell phone behind a scraggly palm tree. He glanced in our direction, then turned away.

The guy might have been flaky, but his restaurant recommendation was solid. We shared orders of fish tacos, burritos, guacamole, and empanadas. Harry and Justin had another pitcher of beer, but I stuck with naranjilla juice, like orange juice back home but more tart.

After we returned to the hotel, the men had coffee at the bar. All I wanted was to take a quick shower and go to bed. The combination of adrenaline let-down from my meeting, the heated encounter with Justin, too much food and alcohol, and general disappointment at what we’d been able to find out about my sister had left me exhausted and depressed.

The pathway was darker now. Scattered lanterns hanging from tree branches cast wavering shadows. I picked up my pace. When we were kids, Lesroy always wanted to play shadow tag. He and Stella would laugh and race all over the backyard trying to overcome what she called our ghosties. But the game creeped me out. Seeing my shadow-self was like watching a part of me shift and dissolve into nothing.

As I inserted my key, I started at the sound of footsteps. Before I could face whoever was approaching, my potential assailant slipped up behind me. I recalled what I learned in the self-defense class Stella and I had taken with Mom, her idea of mother-daughter bonding, and jabbed my elbow into my attacker’s rib cage.

“Dude!”

I turned to see Prez fall back, arms wrapped around his chest.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded.

He rubbed his injured ribs and gave me an accusing look. “That was like, really hostile. You could have done some serious damage.”

“Don’t be such a baby. I didn’t hit you that hard. Besides, that’s what happens when you sneak up on people in the dark. What in God’s name do you want anyway?”

He stood there with the same weird expression on his face I’d noticed when he first saw me and later at the bar.

“I said, what do you want? And what’s with that stare you keep giving me, like I’ve got two heads or something?”

He moved toward me. When I stepped back, he extended his hands, palms up. “It’s just that one minute you’re her spitting image. The next, you’re nothing like her at all. Freaks me out.”

“Who do mean?” I demanded. Even though I knew, I needed to hear him say it.

“Like her, Stella, your sister. It was your eyes that confused me. Hers were that crazy blue green. And yours are all gray and shimmery. But they’re the same shape. And the way you tilt your head when you talk to somebody, giving him that you’re the only one in the world you want to be listening to vibe.” He sighed. “She and I were friends. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here, to find out what happened to her.”

Without realizing what I was doing, I leaned in and grabbed his wrinkled cotton shirt in both fists. “What do you know about my sister?”

“Chill, Grace.” He pried my fingers open and freed himself from my grasp. “Sorry, but I don’t know much. Stella showed up at the beach about two years ago. One day she came up and asked if I would teach her to surf. I thought she was, uh, coming on