The Last King of Texas - Rick Riordan by Rick Riordan Page A

targeting the local
campuses. Nobody even knew the name Brandon."
    "So you buy the personal vendetta story? Sanchez
came back with an old score to settle, decided to finish off the
Brandon brothers the way he finished the dad?"
    "I talked with an ATF guy I know. They've
already passed on the bomb investigation. FBI likewise. Officially,
they're still standing by to advise, but basically they're turning it
back to SAPD. Bomb is too obviously a local make. The hit looks
personal. They like Sanchez for it just fine."
    "You don't sound convinced."
    George lit his cigar, puffed on it thoughtfully.
"Hector Mara running heroin, huh?"
    "Ralph suggests being careful," I said.
"It's usually a good idea."
    "Mmm."
    We turned north onto I-10 and skirted downtown,
finally exiting into the palatial dark hills of Monte Vista. The
sound of the wind and engine died sufficiently for conversation.
    "Maybe we should listen to Ozzie," I
continued. "Just tell the University what they want to hear —
that the murder had nothing to do with them and their faculty is
safe. We could close out the case and bill them for a day's work."
    George looked over, his eyebrows raised.
    "Nah," we said together.
    We turned onto Mulberry and rode west, heading toward
the address George had given me for Jenny's condo.
    George's cigar smoke collected in front of his face
each time I changed gears, then evaporated as I accelerated again.
His eyes squinted almost shut.
    After a while I noticed that he seemed to be
muttering to himself — counting, or praying maybe.
    "You all right?"
    He removed the cigar, licked his lips, then laughed.
"Yeah, fine."
    "The case?"
    "No. Just thinking — you know this is my
hundredth date? You think I should get a door prize or something?"
    "You keep track of every date?"
    "Oh, yeah."
    "One hundred exactly. You mean since—"
    "Since Melissa. Yeah."
    I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Nope. Don't ask,
Navarre. Remember, this man liked his closet closed.
    Berton said, "You really want to know?"
    Another block, then morbid curiosity got the best of
me. "I heard — it was some kind of accident, right?"
    George touched the tip of his cigar to his mouth. His
tilted hat brim swamped his face with shadow. "We were camping
up by Garner State Park, way up in the hills by the Frio River. At
dawn 'Liss was still asleep in the tent, so I figured I'd go down to
the Frio to do a little fly-fishing. This was our first vacation
since I'd gotten out of the service, you know? A little time to get
away, we figured. I came back to the tent about noon and found her."
    "Found her."
    "Raped," he said. "Then murdered —
chopped up with my camping ax."
    My hand tightened on the wheel. "George—"
    "'S'okay," he said. "Really. Seven
years later, you know, and it's okay. But..."
    "They ever catch who did it?"
    He shook his head. "They suspected me for a
while — I couldn't blame them. But it still keeps me awake at night
— the fact that this monster got away. That and the guilt. I'm not
careful — it's like one of those balloons of coke the drug mules
swallow to get across the border, you know? I'm always wondering if
it's going to pass through my system eventually or maybe 
upture, explode my heart."
    I looked over at him, met his eyes briefly in the
streetlight, looked back at the road. What do you say to a story like
that — sorry?
    George sat up and tried to lighten his tone. "So
anyway... now you know, huh? A hundred dates later. Maybe this'll be
the special one."
    He smiled frailly at me, looking suddenly, as we
passed under another streetlight, like a very old man, someone who'd
come from 1962 the hard way. Jenny's condo building was a new
high-rise behind Trinity University, designed for young professionals
or students with rich daddies. It was the kind of place where the
condos cost as much as the older two-story homes around them but with
half the maintenance and none of the charm.
    We buzzed Jenny's number in the lobby. Ninety seconds
later she