Probably had, Chato thought dourly. "So, boy, we meet again. Heh, heh." The light from the candle caused the ruins of his face to look like the ravages of a canyon. He was just as old, just as seedy-looking as Chato recalled. "Ah, senorita," the old man said, staring at Sunny with obvious recognition. He noticed Junior's eyes had widened when he saw the woman. He was apparently surprised to see her still alive. She didn't speak, and he knew she must be recalling the horrible events of that night when her friends had been killed and she'd barely escaped. Chato sat without waiting to be asked. Sunny pulled her chair away from the table, away from Montoya, who leered across the table and cackled. "You're in a fine humor, Montoya." "Si. Meester Chato, I tell you I am doing fine." "You remember my name." "I remember much about you." "And what about your friends, the shadoweyes?" For a moment Montoya looked surprised, but he covered it by leaning forward, the light playing across his face, making it even more hideous.
