Page 40 of Bad Rio

“Thanks,” she whispered back. “What were those explosions?”

“Just fireworks like Chinese crackers. A couple were pretty heavy duty, like cherry bombs and bottle rockets. Airbombs. I paid a couple of the locals to set ’em off.”

“Okay. Good idea. But there’s a huge fence over there.”

He twisted his head to look. “So there is.” He rubbed his chin. “Now, how are we gonna get past that?”

Inside, Becca blanched. He didn’t know?

By dint of a diversion downriver and tremendous luck, they’d thus far evaded the border patrol. Just yards from their hiding spot and beside the fence, a truck engine fired up and rolled slowly along the line. With the singular attention of roving Doberman Pinschers, the uniformed men inside scanned the area.

When they had passed, Rio grinned at her. His dimple came to life. “Just kidding. There’s a breach. I had a kid snip an opening with bolt cutters last night.” He took off his crown, tossed it aside. From his shoulder bag, he pulled out his pistol and wallet. He also untied their shoes and handed over her wet loafers.

Becca stared at him, at his grin, and remembered his wink in the middle of the river, right at the very height of danger. “This is like a game to you, isn’t it?”

“A game I’m gonna win, baby,” he returned easily. He flashed the dimple again. “Fun, huh?”

Becca gazed at him in bewilderment and consternation. Their lives were in danger and he thought this wasfun?

Taking off her own crown of weeds, she turned it round and round in her hands. After a moment, she thought that on some level, despite her panic and fear, she understood. On some level,shewas having fun, too.

Chapter Seventeen

With difficulty, Rioand Becca found the breach, crawled through, and began to casually amble down the paved street. People were out in throngs, protesting, just as the pilot, Julio, had told them. Some held signs, NO CROOKED POLICE in both English and Spanish. CUT OUT THE ROT, they said. A man on a makeshift stage shouted slogans and exhorted the populace to keep up the good fight. The people of Laredo would no longer accept a corrupt police force.

Quickly, Rio and Becca were lost in the crowd.

In the warmth of the day their clothes dried. Cars rolled by and people walked to and from the border terminal. Holding hands, to a casual observer, they would appear to be part of the protest.

To cover his bright hair, Rio pulled on his black cap. There had been one dicey moment in the middle of the river when the border agent had raised binoculars and it seemed they’d been spotted. In that instant, Rio had winked at Becca, and bless her, she’d winked back.

Her eyes had been bright with fear, but also excitement. The idea gave his spirits a grand lift. No panicked, mindless female was she! No, she’d kept her wits, followed his every command, and they’d made it safely across. Most of all, she’d shown him that in the moment of highest danger, she was capable, strong, and almost enjoyed the peril. She’d felt some of his same thirst for risk. He’d seen it in her eyes. Nowthatwas a real woman. He gazed down at her in pleasure.

“Now what?” she said, keeping her voice low. “We need a vehicle.” Three angry women walked by, carrying placards, yelling in protest.

“I’ll get us that vehicle,” Rio said. “First, I’ll give you money, leave you in the shopping mart. Get us some new clothes and shoes. Size twelve for me. Nothing fancy. And buy me some shades, okay?”

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