Trapped in the Mayan Tattoo Read Online Free Page A

wanted to
admit, but would he kill her? And who was “they”?
    “Really. That’s the
way they operate. One more thing, Tina...”
    The girl
interrupted.
    “I told you not to
call me that!” the girl said loudly and turned on the radio.
    The woman immediately
turned off the radio. “I care about a lot of things. Whether or not you like
the name is not one of them.”
    “Bitch!” the girl
said with a low growl.
    “Would you rather
be called Carmelicious Candie? I can turn this car around.”
    The girl stared at
her and stuffed the money into her handbag.
    “Tina, and you’d
best just get used to that, we are pulling out all the stops to make sure
you’re safe. In return, you’re going to talk to us. Don’t hold anything back.
For starters, how old are you?”
    Miss Shoe turned
on her phone’s voice recorder.
    The girl
hesitated.
    “What about my
boyfriend?”
    “Are you insane?!”
    “I want to know
about my boyfriend.”
    “He’s not your
boyfriend. He set you up.”
    “No, he didn’t!”
    “He sold you!
That’s what he does.”
    The girl winced.
That hurt.
    “Didn’t you know
that?” Miss Shoe asked, suddenly looking at Tina’s face.
    Tina sat silent,
trying to remember. How much did this woman know?
    They were quickly
getting closer to Brownsville, approaching the Gateway border crossing. Before
her boyfriend disappeared, he made a video for Ramon, a nasty, abusive video.
She had hated him for that, but he said he was just doing what he was told and
that it would mean a lot of money for her. He said Ramon wanted it for the
clients so they could see the merchandise. Violence excited them, he had said,
and they would pay more. She didn’t understand what he was talking about.
    As to the
violence, Ramon was worse, acting both from greed and his sick pleasure. She
bit her lip as she remembered with pain the belt that struck her when the money
she brought in was under quota. But sold? The girl didn’t know she had been
sold to Ramon. That meant he owned her.
    She was ready for
a new identity. She didn’t want to see them ever again, not Ramon, not her
boyfriend. Miss Shoe offered the only chance Tina would get.
    “Your age? We
already know you’re under age. Just answer the question. I need it recorded.”
    “Fourteen.”
    For forty minutes
they talked as the car continued on toward customs. The agent recorded every
word, every sob, every Hail Mary.
    “At customs,
they’ll try to trip you up on a couple of things. One is your birth year. Check
your documents now and memorize your birth date. Some of the agents should be
there to help you across, especially the man you met last night.”
    Tina did as she
was told.
    “I guess I look
old enough,” she said. “Can you see this bruise?”
    “Cover it with
your hair. Also cover that tattoo if you can, the one on your neck. No, wear
this scarf.”
    “Huh-uh. It
doesn’t look like me.”
    Miss Shoe kept
checking the rearview mirror. She was already speeding.
    “Your tattoo is a
red flag. I’m guessing the tattoo artist was a butcher in his day job. Cover
it! Otherwise, you’ll have a ton of questions to answer. Now wipe your eyes.
You look lovely. Listen. Get this straight. You were here on vacation with your
parents but have to get to your college for summer session. Tell them your
parents are staying to celebrate their anniversary in Veracruz.”
    “My mother’s dead.
I have to say that?”
    “Have a strong
back story and don’t give away any of the truth. We don’t need this hitting the
papers just yet. There’s still work to do if we’re going to bust this gang.
Here’s your social security number, just in case.”
    Tina read the
number repeatedly as they entered the Gateway’s parking lot.
    “One more thing,
take care of yourself. When were you born?”
    Tina gave the new
information without hesitation.
    Miss Shoe pulled
over to park and began rapid-fire questioning.
    “What’s your
name?”
    “Christina Rosita