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“As soon as he sees it, he’ll know where it came from. Tell him you bought it from El Pollo. Explain that you’ve been trying to get ahold of him since the buy and all you get is voicemail. Get a burner phone, record a voicemail greeting in Spanish, and when Manos asks how you got ahold of El Pollo, give him the burner number. It’ll aggravate the hell out of him to think El Pollo was operating behind his back.”

Cops had agendas. Always. I wondered what Watson’s was.

“What’s in this for you?” I asked.

“If you get El Alacrán to cross the border, it puts the biggest drug supplier in Mexico out of business. That makes Southern California a much better place and it puts Manos out of business without me having to arrest him.”

“You’re not going to arrest Manos?”

“They’d immediately question your group’s involvement if I did that. I’ll leave him alone, for now. I’ll get Ramirez as soon as he crosses the border, and it’ll look like he was apprehended by federal agents. No one will be the wiser.”

The plan sounded good, in theory, but I knew things never went the way they were planned when dealing with drugs and the people who dealt them. Something would go to shit for sure.

“We’ll need to discuss this,” I said. “Talk it over and make a plan.”

“I’d suggest any plans you’re going to make be made right now,” Watson said. “You’re going to need to get with Manos no later than tomorrow. Considering El Alacrán’s propensity for torturous violence, you’re going to want to find him before he finds you.”

Coercing the cartel to do a fifteen-million-dollar drug deal with a buyer they didn’t know was enough of a potential catastrophe that it didn’t need any more complications. Doing it in the next twenty-four hours was asking for a mistake to be made. There would be minimal time for planning. Furthermore, I didn’t trust the cop.

The entire thing started to reek of a set-up.

“What assurance do we have that we won’t be arrested while we’re making this drug deal?” I asked. “Or while we’re transporting the drugs to Manos’ place? Who’s to say you’re not setting us up like a bowling pin?”

“You have my word that I won’t arrest you,” he replied. “I’ll tail you, and if you’re apprehended by local cops, I’ll step in and say you’re working as a CI on a major drug bust.”

“Like I said earlier, I don’t like cops,” I said, my tone dry and not apologetic in the least. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Because,” Crip interjected. “I say you can.”

9

Carma

I gazed at my reflection in the full-length mirror. After scanning myself from top to bottom, I turned to the side and glanced over my shoulder. Regardless of the angle, the dress looked fantastic.

“That looks like it was made just for you,” a voice said from behind me.

I turned around and smiled. “Thank you.”

“The midi fit and flare doesn’t work for everyone,” the sales lady said, looking me over as she spoke, “but it sure works for you. It accentuates your hourglass figure.”

Some people eat when they’re nervous. Others drink. Some lock themselves in their homes and binge watch television. Me? I went shopping. I rarely bought anything, but I liked imagining a life where I could make use of the clothes I tried on.

The sleeveless black dress fit me remarkably well. Even so, spending two weeks wages for an article of clothing was out of the question. The daydreams that came with wearing it were enjoyable, though.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I like it.” I gave myself a quick once-over in the mirror and scrunched my nose. “I just…I’m not sure if I love it,” I said, lying through my teeth. “I think I’ll look around a little bit more.”

“If there was ever a perfect dress, that one would have to be it,” she said. “I can hold it for you if you like.”

I turned toward the dressing room. “Thank you, but I think I’ll look around.”

During my shopping sprees, I freed myself from the fear of deportation. I dreamed of the places I’d go and the things I’d do if I was a US citizen.

The things that most Americans took for granted were the objects of my dreams. Pizza in New York City. Skiing in Aspen. Gawking at Mount Rushmore. Peering into the depth of the Grand Canyon. Eating beignets in the French Quarter. Experiencing Disneyland. Climbing Pike’s Peak.

When I was exhausted of seeing the sights on a national level, I’d reduce myself to walking the beaches of Southern California without fear. Driving the entire length of the Pacific Coastal Highway. Dancing in the best clubs in Los Angeles.