Bruja Brouhaha Read Online Free PDF

hand and left.
    I stroked Lucia’s back. She turned to me. “Do I know you?”
    “Yes, Lucia, I’m your friend, Liz.”
    “Liz?” She stared at me until recognition lit her eyes. “Liz. I’m sorry. There are so many people I haven’t seen for so long. My mind is playing tricks on me. Of course I know you.” She cupped my face. “When are you and Nick getting married?”
    I squirmed. “I don’t know that we are.”
    “Nick is a good man. Don’t waste a day you can be together. Where is he? Where is Nick? Did he come to the party with you?”
    Party?
    “Yes. He was just here a few minutes ago. Do you feel okay? Can I get you something to eat or drink?” I said.
    “Not yet. Fidencio’s is our favorite restaurant, you know. We came to the opening in nineteen sixty and we eat here every Sunday night. Fidencio even named a dish after Paco. Those men in the band?” She pointed to the musicians, her eyes glistening. “Paco and I fed them candy when they were children. Everybody loves Paco. But he gave his heart only to me.”
    “I know. I’m so sorry, Lucia,” I said.
    “Sorry about what?”
    “I’m sorry about Paco. The police are doing everything they can.” I glanced at Detective Bailey across the room.
    The reports Bailey gave us in the last few days were grim: a code of silence in the neighborhood hampered the investigation. After four days, the police still didn’t know much about José Saldivar. Even my resourceful brother Dave came up short on information when Nick asked him about Saldivar’s past.
    “The police are useless,” Lucia said. “My orishas tell me what to do.”
    I nodded, vaguely understanding her reference to the deities Santeria practitioners call on for help. Nick taught me the term when I asked him to explain the Santeria belief system. My utter confusion about the complex religion cleared when Nick likened the orishas to the pantheon of Greek and Roman gods.
    A paunchy, baby-faced, middle-aged priest in black shirt and a white roman collar sat down at Lucia’s side. “Mrs. Rojas, I bring condolences from the congregation at Our Lady of the Wayside. I’m offering a Mass in Paco’s honor at ten on Sunday morning. Will you come?”
    “I’ll be home with Paco, Father Nuncio,” Lucia said.
    “If you change your mind I can have one of the parish council members pick you up and drive you to church.”
    Lucia stiffened. “I’m not going to change my mind. Your parish council wants Paco and me to close Botanica Rojas. Tell your self-righteous, intolerant prudes to keep their distance unless they want to buy a Santeria spell from me.”
    I flinched. Father Nuncio didn’t.
    “Now Lucia,” he said. “They don’t feel that way. You know that you’re very welcome at our parish.”
    I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned. Cruz DeSoto, the reed-thin, brunette caretaker Victor hired, stood by my side. Her thin lips, close-set eyes, and skinny nose were off-center on her square face, giving her a lopsided appearance. According to Victor, Cruz came to the job with extensive caretaking experience and solid references.
    “I’ll sit with Lucia if you want to get something to eat,” Cruz said. “Carmen and Victor are close by. Don’t worry. I’ll watch her.”
    “Thank you. I won’t be long.” Smiling, I gave her my chair then scanned the crowd for Nick.
    He wasn’t hard to spot. Six feet, sandy haired, tan, and wearing a burnt rust guayabera, Nick towered over the man with him at the bar. The short fellow with a beer gut and a black pompadour left before I reached them.
    “Who’s your friend?” I said to Nick.
    “My friend? Ah, that was the infamous Oscar Estevez, here to pay his respects.”
    “The Oscar Estevez that Lucia and Paco didn’t like?”
    “Didn’t like is being generous. But yes, one and the same,” Nick said.
    “How do you know him?”
    “His botanica caters to a certain Mexican cult I researched a few years ago. We’re not friends, but we