“Yes, but these are worse than usual,” he began. “There’s a big jump in potency. A lot of people are going to die if we can’t get the new shipments stopped.”
She sighed. “It must be nice, having a job with so much purpose,” she added.
He seemed to grow an inch. “Well, yes,” he said.
“Hey, Carillo, hurry it up! We’ve got a traffic jam forming,” another guard called to him.
“Sorry,” he called back. He grimaced. “Sorry. You get usedto jumpy people when you work a job like this.” He chuckled. “Nice to talk to people with nothing to hide. Got your papers?” he added.
“Yes, sir, both of us,” Raines said with a cool smile. He pulled the documents—recently excellently forged by a colleague—and handed them over.
The guard, at ease with them by now, only gave them a cursory glance. He handed them back. “You’re good to go,” he said, smiling. “Stay out of trouble now,” he teased Josie.
She laughed. “No promises,” she teased back. “But I’ll try not to shoot up any bars!”
“Okay, then. Thanks,” Raines told the guard.
“Have a good day,” Josie told him.
“You do the same,” he replied.
And they were home free.
“Whew!” Raines breathed. “You’re cool under fire,” he told Josie.
She could have told him that several years of undercover work would do that for you. She didn’t, of course.
“Where to now?” she asked.
“A few miles down the road,” he said, and pulled ahead. He waved at the long line of people coming from the other side of the border. So did Josie.
“What if he recognizes me when we come back across?” she asked with convincing apprehension in her voice. She fingered her red-gold hair in its upswept glory.
“I’ve got that covered,” he replied.
“Mind telling me how?” she asked.
“Patience,” he told her. “You’ll see.” He grinned. “This was my own idea. The boss was happy with it!”
“Good for you.” Her fingers went absently to the burner phone in her jeans pocket, under her denim jacket and beige turtleneck sweater.
Raines frowned as he glanced at her. “Are you packing like I told you?” he asked abruptly.
Her eyebrows went up. “I’m always packing...” she began.
He let out a breath. “Good. I should have asked. Just forgot.” He glanced at her. “What have you got in your pocket?” he added.
“A burner phone, of course,” she told him. “This isn’t my first shipment, you know,” she added in what sounded like a mocking tone.
He relaxed. “Okay. I should have remembered to ask you to bring one,” he said. “I guess I’m just nervous. We’re moving a lot of product. Can’t afford to mess up.” He didn’t add that he had plans, great plans, that involved double-crossing Velasquez for a lot of money and more power with the Vega cartel. It was risky, sure, but he was tired of being nothing more than a lackey. Velasquez didn’t appreciate him like Vega did. He had brains. He was tired of not getting the chance to use them.
He thought about his steers, the ones he’d had packed with drugs, waiting to be shipped to Mexico, to Velasquez’s ranch over the border not too far from Juarez. They weren’t enough to make him rich, but they were a good start. Hopefully, that vet wouldn’t have access to the high-tech tools he’d need to discover what was in the little bulls’ intestines, and there were people in place to remove the drugs at Velasquez’s ranch. There had been almost no outward indication that the calves had been tampered with. He just hoped they’d be shipped south soon, before their appearance aroused curiosity. With luck, the Everetts would just think it was scours and treat it accordingly. There was no reason for them to be suspicious. And once the calves crossed the border, well, Raines had that angle covered. He was going to be rolling in dough very soon. The sad thing was that he couldn’t brag about it. His eyes went to his red-headed colleague. She wasn’t bad-looking, butshe’d moved away the minute they left the border. She didn’t find him attractive. That didn’t matter. He’d have plenty of women once the money came rolling in. Prettier ones, too.
Josie felt the car jolt. She sat up, coming out of her reverie. Raines turned down another dirt road, thinking about the plan he’d worked out with Velasquez. It was genius. They’d be carrying a busload of supposed tourists—actually young women and men who’d been coerced to allow themselves to be packed with condoms of product. It was an inventive way to move the newer drugs. The border patrol would be looking for transfer trucks and vans, but a busload of apparent tourists wouldn’t even raise eyebrows. All he had to do was threaten the people not to cause trouble. They wouldn’t, of course. They all had family members under threat of death if they caused any trouble or babbled about their presence on the bus.
“Are we driving another semi with the drugs?” Josie asked as the minutes dragged.
She was watching out the window. They passed a law enforcement car with lettering in Spanish. The driver threw up a hand. Josie waved and smiled.
