Forsaken (The Secret Life of Amy Bensen #3)(34)

“Then this is a friend?”

“I told you,” I say as we stop at the front door, “I don’t have friends.” I ring the bell. “Just people less willing to f*ck me over.”

She glances at my hand on her arm and then at me. “Why are you so angry with me?”

“That is a conversation for another time.”

“Please,” she encourages. “I need some insight into the ever-changing playbook that is your mood.”

The door is opened by a thin Mexican woman in jeans and a T-shirt. “Hola, Maria,” I greet her. “Is Juan Carlos in?”

“He isn’t expecting you. He doesn’t do drop-ins.”

“I’m certain if you tell him it’s me, he’ll be fine with the visit.” She opens her mouth to argue and I toughen my voice and order, “Tell him I’m here.”

She frowns but disappears, shutting the door. Without looking at Gia, I say, “It’s your playbook we’re going to discuss.”

“Good. I need one of those.”

I look at her then. “We both know you have one. You’re going to open it to me.”

“I told you I’ll help you with Sheridan.”

“Deflection will get you nowhere,” I say.

“Deflection? What am I deflecting?”

Maria reappears. “Go to the backyard.” She shuts the door on us, and I grab Gia’s arm again and start walking.

“You know I’m not making a run for it, right?” she demands. “Where would I go?”

“Not a conversation for here and now.” We cross the driveway, where a shiny new black Escalade is parked, and hit grass again as we travel to the back gate. I open it and pretty much set Gia in front of me, following her and shutting us inside.

“Chad—”

“Save it,” I bite out, grabbing her arm again and walking toward a small building, a converted garage turned into an office, about a hundred feet away. At the door, I don’t bother knocking. I simply open it and step inside, taking Gia with me and releasing my hold on her as I kick it shut.

Juan Carlos sits behind a fancy mahogany desk, his long dark hair in a ponytail, a scar down one cheek that I had the unfortunate experience of witnessing him receive. “Chad, my friend,” he greets, standing and offering me his hand.

“Stay here,” I murmur to Gia, stepping forward and shaking hands with him, as he adds, “I hope my sister wasn’t too much of a bitch to you.”

“She was just the right kind of bitch to protect you. How much did that Escalade out there run you?”

His hands settle on his jeans-clad hips, a ring carved with the Mayan sun symbol on his left hand, which I happen to know is invaluable. “A cool hundred Gs. Isn’t she a beauty?”

“I’ll buy her for a hundred and twenty Gs.”

“What? No. I just brought it home. You need a vehicle, I’ll get you a vehicle.”

“I need it tonight. Now.”

“This is why you came to me?”

“And I need documentation for the woman.”

“That’ll take time. I can get you a vehicle and the identity by tomorrow night.”

“We both know your ID packets are done and ready to go.”

“For a substantial upcharge. I don’t want to charge you extra.”

“Then don’t.”

“I’m a businessman.”

“How much?”

“A hundred and fifty thousand for the identity.”

I whistle. “That’s steep.”

“Wait until tomorrow night. I’ll get you a car and a reduced fee.”

“Tonight,” I insist. “On credit, of course. You know I’m good for it.”

“I also know you’re always cheating death by one step.”

Not about to argue that truth, I reach in the bag, grab a wad of cash and toss it onto the desk. “That’s a down payment.”

He glances down and seems to do a mental calculation before opening a drawer, flipping through folders, and choosing one. He sets it on top of the desk and opens it for me. I glance down at the Texas driver’s license with a rather unattractive brunette female who’s a stretch as Gia, with a name that reads “Ashley Woods.” “When do we get her picture to replace this one?”

“Now.” He grabs his cell phone and dials, speaking in Spanish to his sister before refocusing on me and confirming what I’ve already understood.

“Maria’s headed over here to take her photo, which will replace the current ones in all public databases in about seventy-two hours. We’ll need several different looks to ensure the effectiveness of the cover story. As you should know by now, your price includes a family history, college degree, and a track record that reaches all the way back to birth.”

“Social Security card?”

“Of course. And a birth certificate. As always, you receive everything you need to make the person she is now disappear.”

The door behind us opens and I shift to put Juan Carlos in profile as I watch Maria enter. She quickly moves behind the desk, giving us her back as she and Juan Carlos talk. I motion to Gia and she steps forward. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“For what?”