He parks the van in the diagonal slot between lines and lets himself look at his watch.
Two minutes to spare.
Then he waits, knowing that they’re watching him.
110
Chon comes out of the water.
Creature from the Black Lagoon.
He hits land and walks back to where he parked the pony.
Looks at his watch.
Four minutes.
He races down to Spanish Landing, where a row of phone booths stand like monuments to the past.
Fumbles quarters into the slot and dials the number he was told to dial.
“It’s done.”
111
Ben’s phone rings.
“Yes!”
Pull back on to Fairview, they tell him.
Go two lights, take a left.
Two more blocks, take a right.
Go now, we’ll call back.
Ben drives, a new mantra in his shaken brain—
Two lights left, two more right.
Just before the second right, the phone rings again.
“See the fish store?”
Ben looks around …
The fish store, the—
—then sees the sign with the cartoon fish, bubbles coming up from his mouth; the place sells tropical fish for home tanks—
“Yes, I see it.”
“Take the right, then right into the alley behind the store.”
He does it.
Pulls in to the alley.
“Put it in park and get out.”
“Should I shut off the engine?”
“No.”
He does what he’s told and gets out of the car.
It happens real fast. A car rolls in, two guys jump out the back. One of them grabs Ben, shoves him against the shop’s back door, and presses a pistol to his head. The other snatches the phone out of his hand.
“One word, one move, one sound. You die quick, the girl dies slow.”
Ben nods as best he can with the hand around his neck, his cheek pressed against the metal door.
“You take our car, we take yours. We see anyone following us, we see a cop, a chopper, anything, the girl is dead.”
Ben nods again.
“Wait a minute and then go home. We’ll call.”
The hand lets him go.
He hears the van drive off.
Ben gets into the car, a CRV. The keys are in the ignition. A duffel bag is set on the passenger seat. He opens it up and sees
Cash.
A lot of cash.
They paid for the dope.
Ben heads back to Laguna.
112
Chon comes in an hour later.
Looks at Ben and nods.
Ben nods back.
They sit and watch the computer screen.
113
The cell phone rings.
Lado answers it.
O hears him talk in Spanish. Living where she lives she should know some Spanish but other than a little slang and taco stand items she doesn’t. But the ugly Mexican is nodding and saying something that looks like “I understand, I understand,
Then he puts the phone down and picks up the chain saw.
114
Do not send to ask for whom the bell tolls.
The little
Ben opens it and clicks on the provided link.
Streaming video. Podcast.
O, alive, cuffed to the same wooden chair.
Her head slumped as she sobs.
A big man, hooded sweatshirt and shades, stands behind her with the chain saw, one hand on the starter cord.
“We did what you said!” Ben yells.
“Shut up,” Chon says quietly.
“We did what you said, let her go!”
“Now that we have learned a lesson, we’re ready to move ahead in our relationship. Our demands are nonnegotiable. You will continue to grow your product and sell it to us at a price that we will set for a period of three years, commencing immediately. You will also provide certain services for us as we might require them. At the end of that contractual period, your obligations will be considered discharged.”
“Three years,” Ben says before he thinks to stop himself.
“It’s been done.”
