Read Love or Money Online

Authors: Elizabeth Roderick

Love or Money (10 page)

BOOK: Love or Money
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Chapter Eight

 

 

They spent a few days in San Diego before heading over the border for their next pickup. Most of their days were spent at the beach, or in the Jacuzzi tub in their hotel room, though they did find time to go clothes shopping. Evan insisted on paying for everything himself; he even wanted to get her a couple of nice dresses.

“Save your money,” he said. “It’s your college fund.”

Riel ran the fabric of the dress she was looking at between her fingers. Evan had given her half of the money he’d gotten from Mishmash for the run, and they’d set her up a bank account in her fake name—Nora Mejia. She hadn’t picked it, but it had a nice sound. Mishmash would do a direct transfer for future work under the name of one of his San Diego businesses, as if she was a legitimate employee. Having the money already laundered was one of the benefits of working for him, but this perk did little to dispel her nervousness about the job in general.

“It’ll take a long time to save up for college,” she muttered, putting the dress back on the rack. “College is expensive.”

He grabbed the dress back off the rack, handing it to her again. “At least try it on. And I’ll help with college and your expenses. Plus, you can get scholarships. You’re smart.” He ruffled her hair, grinning, then patted her ass, nudging her towards the dressing room. “Come on, Riel. Just try it on. I want to see it on you.”

She rolled her eyes and ducked behind the curtain, wondering if he was really serious about helping her.
I’ll believe it when I see it.

And he had an even sweeter surprise for her after that. After they left the clothing boutique, swinging their shopping bags by their hemp handles, he took her by the hand. “Come on. I saw another store down here that I wanted to visit.”

“I already have enough clothes, Evan.”

He smiled, his eyes shining. “Just come on.”

He led her down a side street, and Riel’s breath caught when they stopped at a storefront and went in.

Guitars of all types hung from hooks on the walls. “Evan…”

“You had to leave your axe behind, and that’s my fault. I know how much you miss it.”

Despite her protests, he had the clerk bring her an assortment of acoustic guitars. She picked up each one, plucking out chords and listening to them resonate warmly through their hollow wooden bodies.

She stroked the polished sides of a blonde-wood classical guitar that made her bones ache with its perfect tone. It was over a thousand dollars. “This one is beautiful, but…”

“We’ll take it,” Evan said.

“Evan…”

He handed the clerk his credit card. “Don’t listen to anything she says. We’re taking this one, and a nice hard-shell case too.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. “I love listening to you play. You’re really good. So think of it as a present for me too.”

Riel looked up at him, blinking back tears. He seemed too good to be true, and she figured there would be a catch sooner or later.

 

***

 

They checked out of the hotel early on Wednesday morning and drove over to pick up the cash for the shipment from Mishmash.

“You need to come back across the border between seven tonight and two in the morning,” he said. “Use lane three when you cross. That’s my guy working then, goes by the name Matt. You’ll recognize him because he looks like one of those, what do you call them, elephant seals. His whole body jiggles like a fucking water balloon when he walks.” He walked around doing a little belly dance to demonstrate, and they laughed.

Evan put the cash in the secret compartment of his Mustang, which was under a hidden panel in the trunk. Then they were on their way south, weaving through the early morning traffic toward the border crossing.

Riel leaned back in her seat, gazing out at the shell-pink eastern horizon, the bronze of first sunlight creeping over the tops of the hills. Evan glanced over at her, then plugged his phone into the jack and scrolled through his music until he found what he was looking for. “I like to play a game with this band,” he said. “It’s called ‘Try to Guess What the Fuck They’re Saying.’” He tapped the screen and the music started. “Come on, grab on and go up our shirts,” he sang. “The monkey tails of plastic fists.”

Riel doubled up with giggles and reached out to take his hand.

“Come on, whack on, give us music squirts,” he continued. “Live three times with junkie tits.”

Riel laughed again, but then her smile faded, and she gazed out the window at the distant hills. “Evan,” she said, “what do you think Mishmash meant about having a chance to get back at Isaias?”

He hummed along with the song, frowning. “I’m not
exactly
sure, but I get the feeling he wants to take Isaias and Mama Maria down. I think there’s some territory of his that Mishmash wants to take over.”

“But they work for the same boss, right? Mishmash and Isaias?”

“Ultimately, but each one of them has their own little cell, their little group of runners and other underlings. It’s how the Big Boss keeps anyone from knowing too much. Each cell has its own boss and runs fairly independently, and each one knows just enough to handle their own territory. But the littler guys are always jockeying for position and power. The Big Boss doesn’t care, as long as it doesn’t disturb the operation. In fact, he’ll reward the little bosses if they can make the operation run more smoothly by fucking over some other guy.”

“Oh,” Riel said. “Then that’s why he wanted us to work for him. Because he wanted inside info on how Isaias’ operation works.”

“Exactly. He sounded me out the first time that a shipment went through his territory and up to Isaias’, something that happens sometimes.”

Riel pondered that. “But how do I fit in? I don’t know anything.”

Evan grinned. “You’re Mishmash’s crown jewel. His rival’s sister-in-law. And you’re on his side. He was very interested when I told him you were pissed off at Isaias. Plus, it’s always good to have a super-hot chick running for you. No one ever suspects them.”

“Unless they get turned in,” she muttered.

Evan’s grin disappeared. “Isaias is a fucking dick. I had no idea he did that, but it makes sense. You wouldn’t have gotten busted otherwise. You’re too careful.”

They exchanged a glance. “And so now Mishmash wants me to help him take Isaias down.”

Evan was silent for a moment, gazing out at the horizon, now flooded with sunlight. “You don’t have to. We can figure out some way to get you out before you become involved in that.”

“No,” Riel said. “I want to. I want to make him pay.”

Evan grimaced. “It’s
dangerous
to get involved in that shit.”

“I’m already involved. Isaias and Mama Maria are going to figure out where we’ve gone sooner or later.”

“Maybe not. We’ve got fake IDs.”

“Whatever Mishmash has planned, I’m sure it’ll get us noticed.”

Evan shifted in his seat, rubbing the stubble on his upper lip. “Maybe.”

“And whatever he has planned, I want to help. I want to take Isaias down.”

Evan glanced between her and the road. Finally, he nodded. “I have your back, whatever you want to do.”

Riel smiled. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he put his arm around her.

 

***

 

The line at the border wasn’t very long, and they got through without problems. Before Riel knew it, they were in Tijuana. She looked around. Everything looked pretty much the same as it had in the States, except the road signs were in Spanish. “You know what? I’ve never even been to Mexico,” she said.

Evan laughed. “Are you kidding? Weren’t your parents Mexican?”

“Yeah. I guess I have family down somewhere in Michoacán, but I’ve never met them. I sorta lost contact after my parents died.” She stared out the window, and Evan reached over and squeezed her hand.

“I don’t want to make you sad, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I just sometimes wonder what would have happened if they hadn’t died, if they hadn’t been deported. Or, you know, if they’d actually been born in the U.S.”

“I think we all wonder things like that. I mean, my parents were both born in Eureka, but I wonder what it would have been like if they weren’t born dipshits.”

Riel laughed, then squinted at him. “You’ve never really told me about your parents.”

Evan shrugged. “Not much worth telling. My dad worked in the logging industry when he was younger, but he lost that job when people suddenly realized that cutting down all the trees and replacing them with Wal-Marts wasn’t a sustainable practice. He was really fucking pissed about it too.” Evan screwed his face up in a grimace, making his voice gruff. “If I could crush every spotted-goddamn-fucking-owl with my bare hands, I would.” Riel laughed. “He ended up getting a job for some security company,” Evan continued. “He worked there most of my childhood, but he started taking meth because they had him working graveyard and he said he needed it to keep his energy up. By the time I left home when I was 14, he was into it pretty bad. Lost his job not long after that. I don’t even want to know what he’s doing now.”

Riel gazed at him, a crease in her brow. “What about your mom?”

“She worked as a supermarket checkout clerk, long hours, not much pay, plus she had me and my three sisters to take care of. Dad wasn’t that nice to her, and didn’t help her much. She ended up getting into meth also. Sometimes she calls me for bail money if Angela can’t scrape it up.”

“Angela is one of your sisters?”

“Yeah, the one who has it sorta together. Kara and Lindsey are both in and out of jail too.”

“I’m sorry,” Riel said, but Evan just shrugged.

“We all’ve got shit to deal with, right? Life’s never perfect. We just do the best we can. Our upbringings could have been better, but we’re doing okay, Rielita. It may not be the best right now, but we’re going to keep up the struggle and we’re gonna make it, right?”

“Right,” she said. They grinned at each other.

“And speaking of keeping up the struggle…” They stopped at a stoplight, and he felt around under the seat, coming up with a pair of little Sig Sauer handguns. He gave one to her, and stuck the other in the waistband of his jeans. Riel stashed the gun over her hip, between her skirt and her skin, pulling her loose blouse over to hide it. It had been more than a year since she’d carried a gun, but the feeling of it against her skin was still familiar.

They met their guy on the outskirts of Tijuana, a neighborhood with little, rectangular houses packed into patches of bare dirt. Riel started to sweat as soon as she got out of the car, the sun pounding down on her. The air smelled like garbage and wood smoke, and the sound of televisions and blaring radios drifted out of the open windows of the houses.

The back of her neck prickled; it had been too long since she’d done this, and she was paranoid. She glanced around, spotting a couple kids playing in a yard and some old men sitting on a porch a couple of houses down. They were glancing at her, but they didn’t look suspicious. Riel took a deep breath and checked the position of the pistol in her waistband.

A man came out of the house as they walked up, young and skinny and clean-shaven. A mottle-coated pit bull trotted at his heels.

“Hey, Theodore,” he said, shaking Evan’s hand. “How’s it going?” Then he turned to Riel, grinning wide. “You going to introduce me to this one, Theodore?”

“Luis, this is Nora,” he said.


Mucho gusto,
” Luis said, taking her hand.


Mucho gusto,
” Riel responded.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Evan added when Luis didn’t relinquish her hand.

This information didn’t seem to faze Luis, who just grinned wider, though it came as a bit of a surprise to Riel. She raised her eyebrows at Evan, but he didn’t notice. His eyes were on Luis, who finally dropped her hand.

“Come on inside,” he said.

They went into the house, which was dim and slightly cooler, with a fan going in one of the windows and another oscillating in the corner. An old woman sat in the tiny living room, rocking slowly in a rocking chair and watching a
telenovela
. She nodded at them as they came in, smiling vaguely. “
Buenas,
” she muttered.


Buenas tardes,
” Riel said. She felt the woman’s curious eyes on her as they went into the tiny kitchen. Women were somewhat rare in this business.


Sientense,
” Luis said, waving toward the chairs around the kitchen table.

They sat, and Luis disappeared into the back of the house. She and Evan exchanged a glance, and both of them wiped the sweat from the backs of their necks at the same time. Evan giggled. “It’s goddamn hot in here,” he said.

BOOK: Love or Money
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