Page 55 of Bad Rio

Too bad. Three days prior, Harrison had sent a new team to the Mexican valley rendezvous point, to the place where they were to receive Rebecca from Rio, and this time he’d chosen them more carefully. He made sure they looked more like professional operators than the ruffians he’d sent before.

Despite that, obviously Lang had been spooked, had run with Rebecca, and they’d lost themselves in the vast Mexican forests. The new team reported that they’d gotten away.

When the two later appeared at the fundraiser, Harrison knew exactly what had gone wrong. Lang had fallen under the woman’s spell.

Now, Harrison walked to a small wet bar and tossed a few ice cubes into a highball glass. Opening a crystal decanter, he poured himself a hefty serving of whisky. His doctor had told him to cut back on the alcohol. Way back. His doctor had also told him to cut out the cigars. The nagging hadn’t ended there. He was supposed to get exercise, eat right, lose weight.

He’d done none of it.

Hell, he wanted to enjoy life. Nobody lived forever. And neither would Rio Lang. This was just business.

It was time to take him out.

Chapter Twenty-Three

As had become his newhabit, in making the rounds of Becca’s small condo, Rio examined every door and window lock. He peered through blinds for any movement on the street, rechecking the view and checking again. The man was excruciatingly careful, Becca realized, as she watched him perform his security measures.

Her tablet computer served as their video monitor, and was propped on the kitchen table. It received live feed from their hidden cameras at the warehouse. So far, there had been no change.

As the hour grew late, Rio took up a pacing routine. Too nervous to sit, Becca kept busy by using her stackable washer/dryer machine to wash their clothing. Since most of her things were either black or white, she only needed to run two washes. Later, she fixed a simple meal for them, and then fed her frogs. All the while, Rio paced.

At last, near midnight, Rio took a seat at her table to stare at the monitor. Becca sat next to him and reached for his hand. He gave her an absent smile and squeezed her fingers.

“You think Uncle Tim will be back tonight?” she asked.

“Bet he will.” He stared at the screen. All was quiet.

“I don’t like thinking about the purpose of those guns.” She shuddered. “That the weapons might be used for murdering people. It makes me sick to my stomach. And it’s all being shipped from my place of work!”

“Whatever happens, we’re putting an end to that,” Rio promised. He gave her a look. “Becca ... your Uncle Tim is going to prison.”

“Prison.” She whispered the word.

“It could be worse. If he isn’t careful he could be killed either by the guys paying him, or by the American authorities. This is a dangerous business he’s gotten mixed up in.”

Childhood memories flowed into her mind: her father’s business partner bringing birthday celebration toys, she and her brothers riding on his shoulders, his bright affectionate smile. Tim and her father were close friends as well as business partners. If she hadn’t personally seen him directing those men to ferry away illegal products, she’d never have believed it.

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