The Traffickers (Badge of Honor 9)

The more he looked at it, the more he thought about the bitch’s comment. And the more he thought about that, the more he really wanted to fulfill her wish.

Teach her a lesson to say things she knows nothing about.

And why not?

A doctor makes a lot of money… somebody would pay to get her back.

And pay good.

Or we could just have some fun with her.

He looked at the picture of Dr. Amanda Law.

Yeah, why not…?

Delgado then saw Quintanilla come out of the Mall of Mexico carrying a letter-size envelope. As he sauntered across the parking lot, a ten-year-old battered Chevrolet Venture minivan pulled into the parking space two spots away. An elderly Hispanic woman, so squat that she barely could see over the dash, eased the dirty black vehicle to a stop. She was alone.

As Delgado looked at the van, he remembered that they had had to tigertail their minivan. It had been the one he’d used to take the dead headless girl to the river.

All we have now is the big Ford van. I don’t want to use it.

So we need another minivan.

And Abuela’s looks like it’d work just fine. Price is right.

Delgado got out of his Tahoe and walked toward Quintanilla.

He told him, “The keys are in my truck. You get in it and wait till I text you when and where to go. Got it?”

Delgado saw Quintanilla’s vacuous eyes staring back.

“Got it?” he repeated.

Quintanilla nodded, then handed over the envelope. “It worked. License is in with the cash.”

Delgado took the envelope and looked around. No one was paying them any attention. And the elderly woman, who wore a rumpled tan sack of a dress, was just getting her door open and unbuckling her seat belt.

He folded the envelope and stuffed it in his back pocket.

“Follow me to the truck, then get in it.”

“Okay.”

Delgado walked quickly toward the Tahoe, then turned toward the Chevy minivan. The woman didn’t hear him approaching.

“Abuela!” he called out affectionately, as one would one’s grandmother. “Hola!”

She turned in her seat in time to feel Delgado stepping into the minivan and quickly shoving her across the bench seat.

She screamed.

The keys were still in the ignition, and he fired up the engine, then threw the gearshift into drive.

She screamed again.

Two blocks later, Delgado pulled to the curb. He motioned for her to get out. She quietly complied.

As he drove off, Abuela screamed again.