Page 53 of Bad Rio

Becca looked up. “Oh, that’s loose foundation powder. You’re supposed to apply it to your face with a brush. Only I keep losing the brush.”

“You don’t need it,” he said. “Your skin is perfect.”

She smiled. “I don’t know about that. But I always forget to use it anyway. That container is full.” At last she took out a flashlight. “Aha!”

And she brandished it high in triumph.

****

At midnight, they droveBecca’s small SUV and left Rio’s old rental parked at her curb. The cameras were placed as Rio wanted them in different and hidden locations around the shop floor. One camera was pointed at the loading dock, one on either side of the floor, another outside.

“We’ll have live feed and watch from your condo,” he told her, setting the lens of the last camera in just the right location and concealing it in a jumble of parts. “Since your Uncle Tim isn’t here tonight, maybe tomorrow he’ll be back.”

“Okay,” she said. Glancing around the dark warehouse, she didn’t like the deep shadows. At night everything looked different; it felt different. Creepy. All she wanted to do was leave. “Are we done? Let’s go. In the morning I want to visit my brothers.”

“Ah, your brothers,” Rio said. “I’ll have a few questions for them myself.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Becca’s younger brothers, John and James De Monte, were twins. They lived together in a residential condo. Like most bachelor pads, the place was messy. The sink was piled with dirty dishes and old laundry was strewn across a chair.

When the door opened and Becca and Rio stepped inside, before she’d even introduced them, she immediately began to gather the clothing and eye the dishes. He guessed as an older sister, it had become her custom to clean up afterthe boys, as she called them.

An enormous television screen, fronted by gaming controllers and scattered boxes of video games, had been placed on the living room carpet. Apparently they were avid gamers.

After their initial greeting and hugs, she gestured at Rio. “John, James, this is Rio. You won’t believe this, but he saved my life.”

The boys, actually men in their early twenties, gaped at him in surprise. They were dark-haired, brown-eyed, and slight. Both were in shirtsleeves and jeans.

“Saved your life?” John said to her. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah, and where have you been?” James cut in. “You were supposed to be back from Mexico days ago.”

They shook Rio’s hand and he could see a resemblance to Becca in their hair and slender builds.

“Your sister,” Rio told them bluntly, “was kidnapped from the Mexican ambassador’s house by some nasty cartel guys. And she was caught in gunfire. Shot.”

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