Page 76 of Reno

“To make this deal go without a hitch,” Crip said. “We’re going to have to load up the dope and haul it out of there. I can’t get 500 kilos on my bike.”

“Take the Beamer,” Goose said. “Haul the money in it, and load the dope in it, too. It’s got tinted windows at least. Back seat folds down, too.”

“Still got a throw-away tag?”

“Probably have a few that have been turned in as stolen,” he said. “But they can’t be traced to us, if that’s your concern.”

“That’s my only concern.”

“Great,” Crip said. “A red eight hundred horsepower BMW SUV sitting on twenty-two-inch race wheels with stolen plates and five hundred kilos of cocaine in the back. Getting through this night without going to jail will be a trick in itself, won’t it?”

He was right.

The entire thing was a recipe for disaster.

27

Carma

Riding to work on the back of Reno’s motorcycle made me feel invincible. I loved riding on it anyway, but riding to work was a different story, altogether. I like the thought of Marta seeing me pull into the parking lot on it.

I got off, took off my helmet, and handed it to Reno. Grateful for the gorgeous day, the good company, and the great riding, I gave Reno a kiss and took a step back.

“See you at ten?”

“We had a club emergency come up,” he said. “I don’t think ten will be a problem, but if it becomes one, I’ll send you a text. I may need to pick you up a few minutes later, from your house.”

I mentally cringed at the thought of him picking me up at home. My mother detested motorcycles. She felt they were unsafe. Nevertheless, sooner or later, it had to happen. I forced myself to smile. “Okay, just let me know.”

I struggled to open the saddlebag and get my clothes but couldn’t figure out the latch.

“Here,” he said, unlocking the bag with a flick of his thumb. “Let me get that, they’re tricky.”

“You’ll have to show me, sometime.”

He smiled. “I will.”

His smile wasn’t normal. It seemed a bit off.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Everything will be just fine.”

The last time he said that, everything was fine. I trusted this time would be no different. I kissed him again. “See you at ten.”

A typical Saturday night followed. Sporadic periods of being busy were mixed with lulls of an empty dining area. With me anxious to get back to the party and see my new friends, the night seemed to drag on forever.

Then, it was finally over. After Luiz left, I checked my phone.

I had no messages from Reno. I told myself he was on his motorcycle and couldn’t text me. At ten after ten, I began to pace the floor nervously.

For the next few minutes, I stood at the window and peered toward the highway, hoping each headlight that I saw was his. After a dozen headlights that weren’t, I was frustrated to the point of giving up.

Disappointed, I decided to walk home.

In the dark.

Alone.