“Outlaws 18 An hour later I’m standing in Angel’s shop up in Phelan. Phelan is in the desert north of L.A., not far from Interstate 15. Angel is the man who taught me how to steal cars and what to do with them once they’re mine. Here in Phelan they’ve got black sky and nice stars but not much else. The shop is made of metal and has no windows, which defeats the popular LoJack device. I can hear the wind knocking against the panels. Angel is doing a walk-around on the Mustang, nodding, clicking a...nd sending pictures and text messages with his phone. Demand is high. Angel is always selling. He might have sold the thing already for all I know. “Thirteen,” he says. “Fifteen.” “Thirteen seven fifty, and no higher, Suzie.” “Fourteen.” “Fine, fine, fine.” “Where will you send her?” I ask. “Mexico. I have a buyer waiting. Someone who prefers American. You’ve always had good instincts for the right car.” A loaded Mustang GT is a thirty-two-thousand-dollar car new—drops to twenty-five if you sell it low-mileage to a private party.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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