Stranger Danger by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

“We can’t split up,” he said. “Stay with me.”
    Sara tilted her head to gaze up at him. “I thought
we weren’t in much danger here.”
    “Probably not but stay close.” As he spoke, Santiago
moved beside her.   Side by side, they
pushed the cart through the store, each adding things.   She enjoyed the domestic activity and savored
it.   Maybe someday, she thought, they’d
do this without fear.   As the items
stacked higher in the cart, she thought about the small amount of money in her
purse.   “Santiago?”
    He glanced up from reading the pay-as-you-go phone
package. “ Si?”
    “If I use my credit or debit card, won’t they be
able to track us that way?”
    “It’s possible but don’t worry.   Don’t use it.   I’ve got plenty of cash.”
    Once it sank in, she gulped and nodded. “Okay.”
    As a gang member, as the enforcer or as he’d called
it, a “bad hombre ”, he would.   She hadn’t thought of that reality. His
wallet must be fat, because he selected additional items for her, things she
wouldn’t have considered otherwise.   After he paid and the multiple bags were stowed in the truck, many
tucked into a suitcase Santiago bought, they headed west into Oklahoma to the
casino hotel.
    It towered over the two-lane highway and surrounding
countryside, every bit as out of place as an alien spaceship or dinosaur.   The hotel stretched six stories toward the
sky and the casino wing spread out toward a vast parking lot, over half filled
even on a weekday.     
    Santiago parked the truck in a row of other older
vehicles.   He gathered their luggage as
she stepped down and they entered the lobby together.   The space featured a free standing central
fireplace, but Santiago turned to the front desk.   He requested a room with a king size bed and
booked one for three nights.  
    “Would you like me to charge one of your credit
cards, sir?” the clerk asked.
    “No, thanks,” Santiago replied in a lazy Texas style
drawl. “I prefer to pay cash.   I won down
at Tulsa and like to spread my wealth if you know what I mean.”
    Anywhere else, Sara thought, the clerk would’ve
questioned it, but not here.   “That’s
fine, sir. Can I see your driver’s license, please?”
    Sara cringed within.   Here’s where it all goes to hell.   “ Si,” Santiago
said and produced a Texas license.   She
peered over his shoulder to read the name – Juan Gonzales.   Juan apparently lived in Fort Worth, but his
official photo was Santiago.   Seven
minutes later, they walked into a deluxe king room and she shook her head. “So
you have a fake Texas driver’s license, too?”
    He grinned. “ Si, of course I do.   It’s for backup and
right now, I’m damn glad I have it.   Nice
room, don’t you think?”
    She glanced around.   The huge bed sat beneath a trio of Native American artwork across from a
big screen television on the opposite wall.   Through the open drapes, Sara admired the panorama spreading out over
the countryside.   Santiago flopped down
in an easy chair as she nodded. “Yes. I just wish we were here under better
circumstances.”
    Santiago snorted. “I dreamed of being somewhere like
this with you for years, la muñequita.   Despite the reason, I’m glad we’re
together.”   He leaned back, closed his
eyes, and sighed.
    “You look so tired.”
    Without opening his eyes, he nodded. “I am.   And my shoulder hurts like hell.”
    Fatigue lines cut deep into his face, adding age
beyond his years.   The way he sat,
slumped in the chair, he reminded her of his late papa. The set of his lips
indicated more than a little pain.   Sara
settled onto the floor at his feet and put a hand on his knees. “ Mi corazon, how much?”
    “ Me duele muy mal.”
    “Then you need to take something to help.” She
stretched for a suitcase with some of their purchases tucked inside. “We bought
some ibuprofen and acetaminophen, didn’t we?”
    “Yeah, but give me the