Diego signaled when it was time to go. He leaned over to Marjorie and whispered to her, “If you make a single sound, conchita, I’ll hack you up into little pieces, comprende?” The fearful, unhappy woman nodded dismally.
The river was deadly quiet as they let the small raft float noiselessly downstream. Diego and Pepe had picked up long poles from the shore and used them as primitive steering tools to keep the vessel on course. When they turned the bend, Margie could see the darkened boat bobbing innocently at its anchor. She feared for the people in it. She knew that the jefe had murder in his heart and that the people would not be likely to survive the evening. Should she do something? The man would certainly kill her and painfully at that. She believed his promise. She thought of the to
