a coffin. But she couldn’t give in to panic. She’d already worn herself out with useless struggling. She had to stay calm and alert, to think from moment to moment. Whatever happened, she had to survive until she could find a way to escape.
Shifting and wiggling, she used her bare feet to explore her prison. If she could find some kind of tool, or anything with a sharp edge, she might be able to slice through the duct tape. But there was nothing. Stella must have cleared out the trunk ahead of time. Erin had seen a movie where a person trapped in a car trunk had knocked out a taillight from the inside to attract attention. Her toes probed the corners where the taillights would be, but she couldn’t find any way to break one.
The trunk was cold and getting colder. She shivered in her light jacket. Through the metal trunk lid, she could hear wind whistling around the car. A heavy patter, like tacks spilling into a tin bucket, filled the dark space around her. It had to be hail. The car was still moving, but its speed felt slower, as if the road surface might be slippery. Maybe the car would slide off the road. Maybe then a patrolman would come by and rescue her. But that was just a fantasy. For now, all she could do was pull the blanket over her as best she could, curl into a ball, and try to keep from freezing. That, and pray.
* * *
Driving through the storm on the ice-slicked freeway had been a hellish experience, but at least it had lessened the chance of her car being spotted. Now the weather was clearing. Ahead, in the distance, Stella could see the lights of Eagle Pass. Soon she’d be safely over the border, with the money in her purse and Will Tyler’s precious daughter on her way to some Mexican drug lord’s bed.
Reaching for the burner phone, she called Don Ramon’s number. He answered at once.
“Is everything ready?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, querida, there has been a slight change of plans.”
Something clenched in Stella’s empty stomach. “Did you get the money?”
“The money? Yes. No problema. But I just got word that the police on the American side are checking every car, looking for you and the girl. You will never get through.”
“Both crossings?” There were two border bridges in Eagle Pass, a large one and a smaller one.
“Yes, both. But don’t worry. My man is in Piedras Negras with the money. Find a motel in Eagle Pass, someplace cheap and quiet. Check in and call me. He will find you, pay you the cash, and take the girl. Entiendes?”
“Yes,” Stella said. “But—”
“Let me finish. The police will be looking for your car. Tomorrow you can leave it somewhere to be stolen and walk across the bridge with the foot traffic. No police will stop you. You will be safe. But one more thing.”
“What?” Stella was liking this less and less.
“My man will need a truck or a van to smuggle the girl across the border. To arrange this may take time.”
Stella mouthed a curse on the man’s ancestors. “How much time?”
“Who knows? Not long. Perhaps a few hours. Maybe less. You can rest and wait.”
“I don’t like this,” Stella said.
“What else can we do? The police are everywhere.”
“Fine. I’ll phone you.” Stella ended the call and pulled off at the first exit. Too bad she hadn’t switched cars, but she’d been in a hurry, and it was too late now. She had little choice except to follow Don Ramon’s directions.
Eagle Pass was a fair-sized town. But with the police on the lookout, she didn’t want to drive in very far. Anyway, the older, cheaper motels would likely be found on the run-down outskirts.
Fifteen minutes from the freeway, she found a place that might do. The El Camino was a row of clapboard units, set back from the quiet street and overhung by a sagging willow tree. Two battered-looking pickups were parked outside. At one end a sign in the window said VACANCY.
Parking the car at a safe distance, Stella climbed out. The night air was frigid, the ground coated with icy hail. She would have to bring the girl inside, a bother, but she’d promised to deliver the little bitch in good condition.
A bell rang when she opened the door of the office. The Mexican woman who came to the desk was wearing a ratty fleece bathrobe. From somewhere out of