The Bona Fide Fraud - Chapter 7 An Unsuspected Betrayal

Larry stopped and opened the driver’s-side door. The light came on inside the car.

“Where are we?” Gemma asked. It was dark outside.

“El Cabrero.”

“This where you live?’

“Not too close.”

Gemma was relieved, but it seemed very black out. Shouldn’t there be streetlights and businesses, lit up for the tourist crowd? “Anyone nearby?” she asked.

“I parked in an alley so you wouldn’t be seen getting out of my car.”

Gemma crawled out. Her muscles were stiff and her face felt coated in grease. The alley was lined with garbage bins. There was light only from a couple of second-story windows. “Thanks for the ride. Pop the trunk, will you?”

“You said a hundred dollars American when I got you to town.”

“Of course.” Gemma took her wallet from her back pocketand handed over the cash.

“But now it’s more,” Larry added.

“What?”

“Three hundred more.”

“I thought we were friends.”

He took a step toward her. “I make you drinks because it’s my job. I pretend to like talking to you, because that’s my job, too. You think I don’t see how you look down at me? Second- best Hulk. What kind of scotch. We’re not friends, Ms. Wilder. You’re lying to me half the time, and I’m lying to you all the time.” She could smell liquor spilled on his shirt. His breath was hot in her face.

Gemma had honestly believed he liked her. They had shared jokes and he’d given her free potato chips. “Wow,” she said quietly.

“Another three hundred,” he said.

Was he a small-time hustler jacking a girl who was carrying a lot of American dollars? Or was he a sleazeball who thought she’d rub up against him rather than give him the extra three hundred? Could Sam have paid him off?

Gemma tucked her wallet back in her pocket. She shifted the strap so her bag went across her chest. “Larry?” She stepped forward, close. She looked up at him with big eyes.

Then she brought her right forearm up hard, snapped his head back, and punched him in the groin. He doubled over. Gemma grabbed his slick hair and yanked his head back. She twisted him around, forcing him off balance.

He jabbed with one elbow, slamming Gemma in the chest. It hurt, but the second thrust of the elbow missed as she sidestepped, grabbed that elbow, and twisted it behind Larry’s back. His arm was soft, repulsive. She held on tight and with her free hand snatched her money out of his greedy fingers.

She shoved the cash into her jeans pocket and jerked Larry’s elbow hard while she searched his hip pockets, looking for his phone.

Not there. Back pocket, then.

She found it and shoved the phone down her bra for lack of anywhere else. Now he couldn’t call Sam with her location, but he still had the car keys in his left hand.

Larry kicked out, hitting her in the shin. Gemma punched him in the side of the neck and he crumpled forward. One hard shove and Larry hit the ground. He started to push himself up, but Gemma grabbed a metal lid from one of the nearby trash cans and banged it on his head twice and he collapsed on a pile of garbage bags, bleeding from his forehead and one eye.

Gemma backed out of his reach. She still held the lid. “Drop your keys.”

Moaning, Larry extended his left hand and tossed them so they landed a couple of inches from his body. Gemma grabbed the keys and popped the trunk. Then she took off down the street with her rolling suitcase before Larry could stand up.