Santa Fe Edge Read Free Page A

was also a substantial safe with an electronic keypad lock.
    She went to the desk and methodically searched the drawers, but the only thing of use to her was half a dozen of what appeared to be handcuff keys. She took one and put it into her mouth, under her tongue, then she looked at the sides and bottoms of the drawers, finally finding what she was looking for, taped to the bottom of a pull-out typewriter shelf. It was a piece of paper with a six-digit number written on it, and she did not doubt that it would open the safe. She also did not doubt that if she used the code now, it would cause electronic beeping that would waken the warden. She memorized the number.
    Alvarez stirred. She ran back to the sofa, sat on the floor beside him and pretended to be asleep.
    “Hey, you, girl,” Alvarez said, shaking her.
    Barbara raised her head. “Hey, you,” she said in a low voice.
    “You’re pretty good, you know?”
    “I know.”
    “Get dressed and get out. I’ll send for you again.”
    “I’d love to see you again,” she said. “When?”
    “You want some more, eh?”
    “Oh, yes,” she agreed.
    “Maybe tomorrow,” he said.
    “When does your wife return?” she asked.
    “What do you know about my wife?” he demanded.
    “Just that she’s away.”
    He looked at her for a moment. “Sunday,” he said.
    “Then we have tomorrow to play,” she said, standing up and slowly putting on her clothes.
    “Tomorrow, then,” he said.
    “Yes, Capitán,” she replied. “I will be ready.”
    He handcuffed her, then unlocked the office door and turned her over to the guard who waited outside.
    The guard marched her back down the dirty hallways and put her back in the small cell that she shared with five other women.
    “Have a good time?” one of the women asked suggestively.
    “Shut up, bitch,” Barbara replied, and lay down on her bunk. Tomorrow, she thought. Saturday at the latest.
    Later, she got up and motioned to the guard in the hallway.
    “Eh?” the woman said.
    “I can’t sleep,” Barbara said. “I need something to take.”
    “Sleep is expensive,” the woman replied.
    “Twenty dollars American for Ambien or two Valiums.”
    “Show me the money.”
    “When I see the medicine.”
    The woman went away and returned with two yellow pills. “Valium,” she said. “See the writing?”
    Ten milligrams, Barbara thought. Ideal. She retrieved the money from a capsule in her vagina and paid the woman. Now all she had to do was survive tomorrow.

3
    I t was nearly noon before the guard came for Barbara in her cell, and she had been getting nervous, thinking something had gone wrong. The guard finally opened the cell door, and she didn’t handcuff Barbara.
    The guard took her down the corridors, let her into Alvarez’s office and closed the office door behind her. Barbara locked it herself.
    This seemed to please Alvarez. “Would you like a drink?” he asked.
    “Sure,” she replied, walking toward his desk, where a bottle of tequila reposed, along with some glasses. “Let me get you one.” She was unbuttoning her blouse as she walked.
    “Good girl,” Alvarez said, unzipping his pants.
    Barbara fished the two Valium tablets from her bra and ground them between her thumb and forefinger into the glass as she poured the liquid. She turned and walked over to Alvarez while reaching behind her and unhooking her bra.
    “You’re not having one?” he asked.
    “Afterward,” she replied. “I enjoy it more if I’m sober.” She knelt between his legs and began toying with his penis. “Salud.”
    He tossed off the tequila, grabbed her hair and pulled her into his crotch.
    She took longer this time, hoping the drug would work quickly, playing with him, bringing him to the brink of orgasm, then backing off. After fifteen minutes or so he came loudly, then sagged sideways on the sofa, as he had done the previous day. She continued to stroke him until he fell asleep.
    Barbara walked back to the desk, took a