He’d woken up feeling fantastic. Then the day had taken a one-hundred-eighty-degree header straight to hell.

Fucking Maureen.

She’d known from the start that after the trial, he was going to take his share and leave the country.

She was supposed to stay in San Francisco, bank her millions, become the hottest litigator in town.

That was her dream, wasn’t it?

When had she gone off track? Why had she changed her mind?

It had been a memorable affair and an elegant heist. No doubt about that. They’d both come out huge winners. Wasn’t that enough?

Why couldn’t she leave perfect alone?

“I didn’t do it for the money,” she’d told him this morning, her voice swimming in tears. “The money is nothing. I did it for you, Dennis. I did it because I loved doing this with you.”

He would have shaken his head in disgust, but he was feeling queasy again.

He clenched the steering wheel. Then he touched the loose teeth in his lower jaw with his tongue, felt his whole head throbbing.

A wave of images flooded back. Unbelievable. Unthinkable.

First, the shouting match with Maureen. Then the sickening events that followed. He could still hear the terrible screams. See the torrents of blood all over fucking everything, until finally the screaming had stopped.

Garza wrenched himself back into the present. He had to keep a grip on himself. Forget what had just happened and get the hell away from San Francisco.

Staying within the speed limit, Garza took the exit at South Airport Road. He followed the green overhead signs to the Park ’n’ Fly long-term lot.

His hand was shaking as he collected his ticket from the machine and parked the car along the Cyclone fence on the west side of the ugly, dust-blown lot between two dirty American cars.

Good-bye to all this. Good-bye, USA.

He could already see the approach to Rio from the air. The magnificent South American city planted in the green-sheathed mountains, rising up from the sea. The stunning statue of Christ presiding over everything.

He could sort out everything once he got to Brazil.

Garza turned off the car engine; then he shook her awake. Not wasting any charm on her now.

“Hey, let’s go,” he said. “C’mon. You’re going to have to handle your own bags.”

Garza got out of the car, opened the door of the Roadster, pulled his luggage out of the backseat.

Called out to her again.

“Did you hear me, Maureen? The bus to the terminal is loading now. If we miss this flight, we’re fucked.”

Chapter 130

Chapter 130

I INSISTED ON DRIVING us to the airport, and Jacobi reluctantly let me take the wheel.

“Whatsa matter, Boxer? What’s your problem?”

“I want to drive, okay? Rank has its privileges.”

“Suit yourself, Lieutenant.”