Chapter 7

Bella Cano’s car jerked to a stop when she slammed on the brake pedal. The car in front of her had hit theirs in the heavy traffic leaving the border crossing. She screamed at them in profanity-laced Spanish and then quickly glanced over her shoulder to see if the stuffed animals had slid off the back seat. They hadn’t. Bella wanted to get as far away from there as fast as she could, but it seemed like everyone in Mexico had decided to go to the United States at the same time. The lane to her right had an opening. She swerved into it without even checking the side mirror. She pressed hard on the brake pedal and stopped inches from the bumper of another car. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel and she leaned forward. The car rocked in traffic as she gave it gas, hit the brake, gave it gas, hit the brake.

After what seemed like hours, Bella approached the turn that would take her to Cactus Point. For once she was grateful to take the road no one else did. She drove for about two miles on the deserted road and then pulled onto the shoulder and covered her face in her hands.

The crotch of her panties was soaked with semen. A constant reminder of what she had done. Could she do it again? No matter what that asshole CBP officer said, she wasn’t a tramp. Unlike many of her childhood friends, she had remained a virgin until married. And she had always been faithful to her husband. Her husband? Manuel was kind and loving, but that was before. He wouldn’t even talk to her after they had left Marco’s place. And that was before anything actually happened. But he loved her and it would be better when she got home and this was behind her.

She followed the directions Marco had given her. It took her to the outskirts of Cactus Point where she had never been. The houses were large and not on top of one another. She had heard about a neighborhood like this from her sister but had never believed her. Not in Cactus Point. Her sister had said it was where the mining executives lived. Bella drove slowly, looking for the address, wondering what it would be like to live there.

When she found the house, she held the paper up and checked the address again. The house was sitting on an acre or more with a long cement driveway carved into the massive manicured lawn. Grass! That was unheard of in the desert town. The driveway curved toward the front door and then continued like a horseshoe back to the street. A row of rocks on both sides of the driveway had lights about five feet apart that guided a car at night like runway lights at an airport. She drove up to the front of the house, walked to the door, and rang the bell. While waiting, she turned to admire the lawn. Her children played on dirt and weeds.

The door opened. She jumped and spun around.

Two large men stood shoulder to shoulder, muscles bulging from their short-sleeved shirts. Both wore identical shoulder holsters with pistols in them. A lump formed in her throat and a knot in her belly. They were white. American DEA agents? They stared at her, not saying a word. Bella shifted from foot to foot.

“I must have the wrong address,” Bella said. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

She turned to leave. A strong hand grabbed her shoulder and held her in place with fingers sinking into the flesh as the grip tightened.

“Let’s look inside your car,” the man holding her said.

Bella trembled. “I have the wrong address. I have to go somewhere.”

The other man, the one with short-cropped blond hair, wrapped his large fingers around her upper arm and pulled her away from the first man, dragging her to the car. She took quick, stumbling steps to keep up with his long strides. To keep from falling. With his hand still clutching her arm, he leaned over and peered into the car through the back window. Her heart was ready to burst. He’d find the drugs inside the stuffed animals. What she had gone through with the CBP officer was for nothing. She was going to prison anyway.

“Give me the keys,” the blond man said.

“It’s a mistake. Please let me go.”

“The keys.”

Bella fished them out of her pocketbook and held them out. They slipped from her trembling hand. She stood frozen. The man stooped, swiped the keys off the ground, and sauntered to the back of the car as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He opened the trunk and took out two large suitcases.

Bella gasped.

The blond man carried the suitcases to where Bella and the other man stood and laid them on the ground. He flipped open the two latches on one suitcase. Click. Click. Bella flinched twice. He looked around before opening the lid. Bella leaned over the top. It was filled with bags of white powder. Her hand flew to her open mouth. He pulled a knife from his pocket and pushed a button in the handle. The blade swung out. He slit one of the bags. Wetting a finger, he dipped it into the opening and licked the white powder off his fingertip. He looked up at the other man and nodded and then closed the suitcase. He inspected the second suitcase in the same manner.

He stood up and handed Bella the car keys. “You can go.”

“I’m free? I can go?”

“You made the delivery. Now get.”

“What about the stuffed animals?”

“What about them?”

“They have drugs in them.”

The two men gawked at her and then burst into laughter.

“They identify your car,” the blond man said. Bella stared at him with her mouth hanging open. “For the CBP officer. So he knows which car. Now go back to your family. Your job is done.”

The other man grabbed her shoulder. “Wait! One more thing.”

A knot formed in Bella’s stomach. She closed her fist around the keys. Squeezed them tight. Not again. The men worked for Marco. They expected to have sex with her. Could she make it to her car and get away before they caught her? But then what?