"Man, you'd better have a good story we can use," Orlando said.
"First, tell me what the cop asked you."
"He asked me if we went cruising together last year in Ojitos Frios. I told him no."
"What else?"
"He wanted to know if you knew Luiza. I told him I didn't know who you were dating."
"Did he say anything about her being missing?"
"No."
"Then he's just fishing."
"I think he knows who she is. My dad said Kerney has a possible ID on the victim." A thought flashed through Orlando's mind. He stared at Bernardo.
"What?" Bernardo asked.
"How did he put us in Ojitos Prios?"
"Somebody saw us in my grandfather's truck."
"Did you tell him we were there?"
"I said I didn't remember." Bernardo tore open a pack of cigarettes and quickly lit up.
"He's probably questioning everybody who knew Luiza. Don't get all bent out of shape. We'll get our shit together and it will all be cool."
Something clicked in Orlando's mind.
"But he's doing a background investigation on you. Asking who your friends are. Where you were last April. If you knew Luiza. That means you're a target."
Bernardo exhaled smoke and laughed.
"Did you learn that cop shit from your old man?"
"You knew Luiza, didn't you?"
Bernardo shrugged.
"Yeah, I knew her."
"She never wanted to party with us that night, did she?"
Bernardo smiled.
"I had to convince her."
"You meant to rape her all along."
Bernardo didn't respond.
"Do the cops know that you knew her?"
"Yeah, but it doesn't mean squat."
Orlando shook his head.
"You don't get it, do you?
You're a fucking suspect."
"So what?" Bernardo ground out the smoke with the heel of his boot.
Orlando turned to walk back to his car.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm splitting. I can't live with this shit anymore. I'm done with it. It's over, Bernardo."
Bernardo grabbed Orlando by the arm.
"Are you going to snitch me off?"
"I didn't say that. Let go of me."
Are your' Orlando yanked Bernardo's hand off his arm and pushed him away.
"I don't know what I'm going to do.
I'll let you know when I decide."
"That's not good enough, Orlando." Bernardo put his right hand in his back pocket and grabbed the handle of his sheath knife.
"Live with it," Orlando said.
"Can't do it, bro." Bernardo pulled the knife, took two steps, drove the blade under Orlando's rib cage, and ripped up to find the heart.
Orlando grunted once, his mouth open like a feeding fish, his eyes already empty.
Bernardo pulled the knife free and watched Orlando's blood pump out of his body as he fell to the ground. He'd read somewhere that during Vietnam the Communists would castrate dead Americans, stick their dicks in their mouths, and sew their lips together, to scare the soldiers who found the bodies. He thought about doing it to Orlando but dedded not to bother.
No one was ever going to see him again.
He stepped over to Orlando and slit his throat.