The Power of the Dog (Power of the Dog, #1)

by Don Winslow

“Méndez offered you a fortune, didn’t he?” Miguel Ángel asks the girl. “A new life for you, for your whole family?” She nods. “You have younger sisters, do you not?” Tío asks. “Your drunk of a father abuses them? With Méndez’s money you could get them out, make them a home?” “Yes.” “I understand,” Tío says. She looks up at him hopefully. “Eat,” he says. “It is a merciful death, isn’t it? I know you wouldn’t have wanted me to die slowly and in pain.” She balks at putting the bread in her mouth. Her hand trembles, leaving little crumbs sticking to her bright red lipstick. And now fat, heavy tears plop onto the bread, ruining the sugary frosting that she had so carefully applied. “Eat.” She takes a bite of the bread but can’t seem to swallow it, so he pours a glass of red wine and puts it in her hand. She sips it, and that seems to help, and she washes the bread down with it, then takes another bite and another sip. He leans across the table and strokes her hair with the back of his hand. And softly murmurs, “I know. I know,” as with his other hand he places another piece of the bread to her lips. She opens her mouth and takes it on her tongue, then a sip of wine, and then the strychnine hits and her head snaps back, her eyes open wide and her death rattle gurgles moistly between her parted lips. He has her body thrown over the fence to the dogs.