In Desperation by Rick Mofina Page A

didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go home. Ever. She was ashamed. She was scared. She went to a clinic.
    But she couldn’t go through with it.
    She went to a church and prayed and soon it dawned on her that this was her miracle. This was her reason to start over. She’d been given a second chance with this baby.
    This new life.
    Â 
    But it always came back to that awful night in San Francisco.
    The incident was always there. Close to the surface, breaking into her thoughts like flashes of lightning.
    Don’t think about it.
    The blood.
    Stop.
    So much blood.
    Stop.
    Blood on her hands .
    Now she was being punished for the sin she’d committed that night.
    Cora was so afraid she couldn’t breathe.
    Forgive me.
    Standing in the shower Cora stared at her hands.
    Were they still red with blood?
    Overcome, she fell against the shower wall and slid to the floor, lost in a whirlwind of confusion.
    She could not let anyone find out about that night in San Francisco. She had to protect Tilly.
    How did this happen?
    Where was Lyle? How could he do this?
    She could not survive without Tilly.

16
    Somewhere in Arizona
    L yle Galviera swallowed hard.
    This was the last one. It totaled $1,153,280.
    All bound with elastic bands in brick-sized bundles of tens and twenties and stuffed into six nylon gym bags.
    He was careful to keep his back to the security camera as he zipped the last bag closed. He set it with the others in the self-storage unit, a corrugated metal five-by-five space he’d rented from JBD Mini-Storage at the edge of Phoenix. He snapped the steel lock, tucked the key in his boot and exhaled.
    The unit was air-conditioned but Galviera was sweating because the plan, this critical plan, had gone to hell when someone had kidnapped Tilly.
    Why? She had nothing to do with anything.
    Why, goddamn it? Goddamn it. God-fucking-damn it .
    Dragging the back of his shaking hand across his dry mouth, he forced himself to keep cool. He had to fix this. All right, what could he do right now?
    Stick to the plan.
    It was all he had.
    Adjusting his ball cap and dark glasses, he returned to JBD’s security office. When the acne-faced kid at the counter saw him, he stopped bobbing his head, tuggedat his earphones and ceased playing a game on his cell phone.
    â€œI forgot to give you some of our data, Mister…” The kid had to consult the clipboard with Galviera’s information. Galviera had rented the self-storage unit moments ago for fifty a month using a counterfeit driver’s license. “Sorry, Mr. Pilsner, here you go.”
    Galviera accepted the brochure.
    â€œAnd sorry, dude…I mean, sir…I also need you to sign the release that you understand our rules.”
    Galviera glanced at the sheet and took up the pen.
    â€œOnly you have 24-7 access to your unit at JBD,” the kid said, “unless you give someone else your gate code, your keys and unit number. JBD has no access to your unit. As the tenant, you’re responsible for your unit and anyone you give your information to.”
    â€œFine.” Galviera signed. “Thanks.”
    His knees nearly buckled walking to his battered Grand Cherokee. He had just finished securing $5.1 million of drug cartel cash in several locations. Before Tilly was kidnapped he was supposed to meet his cartel people to finalize his share of his biggest and last deal.
    The kidnapping changed everything.
    Am I caught between two cartels?
    Somehow Galviera’s people had to fix this. They had to help find Tilly. Alive.
    But things kept changing so goddamned much.
    If this didn’t go down right, he was a dead man.
    As he drove, he tried to think.
    Today was Tuesday, or was it Wednesday? He wasn’t sure. Last Friday, according to the original plan, he was to fly from Phoenix to California, ostensibly for Quick Draw company business. No one knew the truth: that he was really flying to L.A. for his last deal with his