I blew out a heavy sigh. “I know.”
“And what?”
“And nothing.”
“You’re not seriously considering letting him come back?”
“Of course not,” I said, gripping the wheel. “Nothing is happening between me and Steven.”
“Good.”
“It was probably just the holidays making him nostalgic,” I reasoned.“After a week alone with the kids, he’ll be begging me to take them back. You know how he is.”
“Yes, I do,” Vero said. “Which is why I am telling you right now, you need to set some clear boundaries with that man or he’ll stomp right over them.” She pointed to a curb a block from Ramón’s garage. “Pull over there. Javi’s not supposed to be here for another twenty minutes. We should make sure Marco’s guys aren’t scoping the place out first.” She withdrew her set of binoculars from her bag and studied the street in front of the garage.
“See anything?”
“Nothing suspicious.” She put the binoculars back in her purse. “Let’s go,” she said, tucking it under her seat and hopping out of the van.
We walked quickly, hunched under our coats with our hoods pulled low, our breath streaming out in thin white clouds. Vero fumbled with a key ring as we approached the high chain-link fence that surrounded her cousin’s salvage yard. Chains clanked as Vero slipped a key in the padlock and snapped it open, ushering me through the gate.
The highway hummed in the distance as she closed the latch behind us, leaving the padlock hanging open for Javi.
“Come on,” she said, pulling me by my sleeve past the rows of parked cars awaiting repair behind the garage.
“What about the cameras?” I asked. I’d noticed at least two hanging from the eaves of the building.
“Ramón’s too cheap to pay for a monitoring service. Javi installed them and I run the software. Ramón doesn’t even know how to check the feed.”
The shadows thickened as she led us deeper into the salvage yard. Mountains of stacked cars in various stages of disrepair rose up on either side of us, forming a maze of crushed frames and abandoned parts. It all looked so precarious, rows upon rows of Jenga towers that might fall at the slightest provocation.
“This all belongs to your cousin?” The true size of the salvage yard hadn’t been visible from the road, or even the back of the garage. A giantcrane hovered over the yard like a sentry, its claw-shaped hand silhouetted against the night sky. “What does he do with all these cars?”
“After he tows them here? He breaks them down. Sells the scrap. Whatever’s left gets squashed or recycled.” Vero paused in front of a rusting metal shed. “Hold this.” She handed her flashlight to me as she fiddled with her key ring. She wedged a key into the padlock and drew open the doors. I pointed the flashlight into the opening. The beam bounced off the splintered rear window of the Aston. With the exception of the bullet holesEasyCleanhad fired into it, the car’s matte black body hadn’t suffered a single scratch.
A car door slammed in the distance. Chains rattled as the gate to the salvage yard clanked open. “That must be Javi. Come on,” Vero said, tucking the padlock in her pocket. We started back toward the gate to meet him. His shadow stretched toward us, his shoes crushing softly against the dirt as he crossed the yard.
Vero reached for my elbow, dragging me to an abrupt halt beside her. Her body bristled as he approached us. I froze, too. The man’s gait was too stiff, his build far too thick to be Javi’s.
“Sorry,” Vero called out to the man. “Garage is closed. If you’re looking for parts, you’ll have to come back in the… morning,” she finished weakly as he stepped clearly into view. A tire iron dangled from his hand.IKE—presumably his name—was tattooed across three of his massive knuckles. Vero and I took a step back as he lumbered closer. A gold championship belt buckle held up his pants, and two gold teeth glimmered from the middle of his scruffy goatee.
“Jesus,” Vero whispered, “he’s like a refrigerator with feet.”
“Cut the crap. You know why I’m here.” Ike’s New Jersey accent left little room for doubt. “Marco sent me. Time to pay up.”
Vero reached slowly into her pocket for her phone.
“Don’t bother trying to call your friend,” Ike growled, tapping the tire iron against his palm. “He’s in the parking lot, taking a long nap in the back of his van. But I promise, he didn’t feel a thing.” Vero’s fists clenched at Ike’s smug grin.
“What a coincidence!” I said, holding her back with one arm and tucking her behind me. “My friend and I were just discussing Marco. See, we don’t have all of his money right now, but we do have a plan to get it. We just need a few days to come up with the rest.”
“Marco doesn’t like to wait.”
“I don’t see that Marco really has a choice.”
“Let me tell you how this is going to go down,” Ike snapped, making Vero and I jump. “Either you give me the money you owe Marco and I leave you to go nurse your friend’s headache. Or you tell me you don’t have the money and the three of us go for a nice long drive so you can explain it to Marco personally.”
I stumbled backward into Vero as Ike strode toward us. She peered over my shoulder as the tire iron came within striking distance.
