66

Phoenix, Arizona

“O h, Jesus.”

Salazar’s and Johnson’s severed heads stared up at Galviera. Across from him, Tilly’s screams were muffled by the tape over her mouth.

“You have thirty seconds to tell us where you’ve put our two million dollars,” Angel said. “Or I will add a new one to the collection.”

Galviera turned white and was breathing hard.

“There’s more money. Please take them away. I’ll tell you where it is.”

“They will remain to inspire you to tell the truth.”

“I rented several storage lockers under the name of Pilsner at JBD Mini-Storage in Phoenix. The two million is in locker 787A, northwest sector of the yard. You need the gate code and the key for the steel lock on the unit. The money is in two sports bags. The code and key are in the hollowed section of the heel of my right boot.”

Angel nodded to Tecaza, who yanked off Galviera’s right boot and twisted the heel, extracting a metal key and a folded business card with numbers jotted in pen on the back.

He held them up for Angel.

Tecaza and Limon-Rocha entered JBD’s address into a GPS, preparing to go retrieve their cash now as Angel stood before Galviera.

“To ensure you are not working with police, I’ll call my associates every twenty minutes. If they do not answer me, I will remove the girl’s head.”

In the time that Limon-Rocha and Tecaza were gone, Galviera tried to soothe Tilly.

“It’ll be okay, I promise. Soon they’ll have what they want and they’ll let us go. I am so sorry for this, Tilly. It’ll be okay now. Soon you’ll see your mom and everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”

Tilly could not stop shaking. Her widened eyes seemed even larger as she kept them on Angel. Her stomach knotted each time he made a phone call. She thanked God each time his call was answered.

Angel occupied himself by eating potato chips and chocolate cupcakes, drinking Coke and playing a hand-held computer game, the soft beeping and ponging sound a cruel juxtaposition to the horror he’d put on hold.

An hour after they’d left, Limon-Rocha and Tecaza had returned. They placed two sports bags on the table and started counting the bundled cash, counting twice to verify the amount.

The total: $2,176,000.

“Back the car into the hangar close to the table-” Angel nodded to Galviera “-and load all the money in the trunk, with the shovel and the pick.”

“Wait.” Galviera struggled. “Aren’t you going to let us go?”

No one responded. As Limon-Rocha and Tecaza loaded the car, Angel checked Galviera’s bindings and the handcuffs on his wrists and ankles.

“What are you doing?” Galviera winced when Angel tightened the cuffs.

“Get him ready,” Angel said.

“Please,” Galviera said. “I’m begging you, please!”

“Mr. Galviera, did you believe for one moment that after stealing from us you would come out of this alive?”

No more pleading or begging. This was how it was done.

Angel pulled on a large rubber apron and a surgeon’s clear face shield, then set a gas-powered chain saw on the floor next to Tilly.

Galviera bucked wildly against his restraints. Tilly screamed under her tape. Angel kept the saw on the ground, expertly threw the on switch, the throttle, and adjusted the choke. He jerked the engine’s crank cord. It popped to life, filling the hangar with a deafening roar.

Gently squeezing the throttle trigger, Angel lifted the saw and very carefully leveled it at Tilly’s neck. The engine was turning at nearly thirteen-thousand rpm, powering the teeth in the semichisel chain. Tilly could feel the air rippling as Angel brought it closer. Her eyes bulged as she thrashed in vain away from the eighteen-inch blade.

As the saw’s raging teeth came within half an inch of Tilly’s skin she prayed and thought of her mother.

Angel was practiced.

A quick touch was all it took.

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