Head Games (The Hector Lassiter Series) by Craig McDonald Page A

gingerly onto her couch, my ribs burning.
    The girl returned with a bottle of Merthiolate. She used the little glass wand bound to the rubber-stopper lid to slather the red, stinging medication on the fingernail scratches furrowed across the backs of both of my mangled mitts.
    "I still don't know your name, sweetheart."
    She pressed the adhesive bandages in place and then helped me off with my jacket . "Me llamo Alicia Vicente."
    I let that roll around my mouth: "Alicia. Lovely name." She unbuttoned my shirt and put out her hands to help me up. She squeezed my ribs, feeling and probing through my undershirt.
    I winced a couple of times as she found the spots that hurt most. "You a nurse?"
    "I've had some training," Alicia said, brushing her black hair back behind her ears. "But my grandmother thought with my looks..."
    " Abuela was right."
    Alicia smiled knowingly. "I don't think they're broken Héctor ... probably only bruised. But if so, they'll hurt almost like they are broken."
    "Don't suppose you know anything about diabetes?"
    She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
    "My friend thinks I might have it. I thought you could maybe confirm his diagnosis. And I should probably find him. He's bony. If Welles were to fall on poor Bud, well, it would be a slaughter."
    Alicia helped me back on with my shirt and jacket. "Other than some of the old pachucos Mr. Welles has hired to play thugs, we don't have much fighting on the set. Not 'til you arrived, anyway."
    "Unfortunately, it's all too often the way when Héctor is in the room." I smiled as I caught myself pronouncing my name with my new friend's Spanish inflection.
    She smiled back. "I will help you look for your friend. And try to keep you out of harm's way."
    "Don't get me wrong, but why would you do that?"
    "You strike me as a man who needs looking after. Your luck is running dark tonight."
    "I met you."
    Her shoulders rose and fell. "On balance, your luck is running dark. You need looking after."
    "You and my skinny friend are gonna get along great."
    13
    Couldn't really go back to the movie set --- didn't want to confront Orson or Marlene again.
    Bud was a Midwest boy, so I wagered he was maybe walking the beach, taking in the Pacific by moonlight. Or perhaps he'd found himself one of the Mexican working girls who were camp-following the film crew ... with any luck, he wouldn't get rolled after his roll with her.
    Alicia's arm was linked with mine, the creaming waves almost licking our feet. I wasn't quite old enough to be her grandfather. But I was within limping distance. I looked at my bandaged hand and muttered, "Christ, I feel like Robert Cantwell."
    "I know the book you speak of. I just read it. Miss Dietrich has been forcing copies of Papa's books on me. She thinks maybe I could play Maria in a television production being worked on of For Whom the Bell Tolls ."
    Alicia's thick black hair swung almost to her ass ... her long hair tapering to a point just above her tailbone. "You'd have to cut off all of your hair for that part," I said. "That would be a mortal sin."
    My new friend smiled and shook her head. "She's a stupid girl --- Maria in The Bell . In the book, you know?"
    "I know. I agree."
    "Papa cannot write good women," Alicia said. "Not in romance, anyway ... not in the novels. They are almost all daughters and whores. The women in some of his short stories, however, well, they are different."
    I couldn't resist: "Ever read my books?" A wicked thing, a writer's vanity.
    "A couple. Miss Dietrich has been giving me those, in the past few days, too. You don't write stupid girls like Maria or that countess mooning over old Col. Cantwell. But you do write about a lot of putas and scheming women."
    "It's pulp fiction sweetheart. I don't do romance." I gave her a good once over and a smile. "Though you ... for you I could give it a try. I'll rechristen you 'Paloma' and we'll call the book Across the Rio Grande and Into the Cacti ."
    She smiled and wrinkled her nose. "That