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Jerry glanced up to see how his reporters were reacting to the news and found the drive and street mysteriously empty. They had all left for the bigger story and Jerry was, after many hours, alone. He sighed, sat back, and glued his eyes to the TV so he could talk to the residents in a knowledgeable manner as they passed his guard shack in the next couple of days.
The phone rang and Jerry snatched it up. He was ready to put on his official voice when he noticed the number on the caller ID. Damn, it was Del, his relief for the night. “What’s up, big man?” Jerry held hope that maybe Del was simply going to be late, but not so.
“Jerry, dude, I’m one sick dog. Can I get you to cover for me tonight?” Del faked a cough. In the background, Jerry could hear someone calling for a couple of shots and a beer.
Jerry sighed. “What the hell ever, man. But you owe me. Big.”
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks man. I’m gonna take some drugs and hit the sheets.”
“Whatever,” Jerry snarled. “Drink one for me, too.” He hung up, unsurprised by the call. Del missed more nights than he worked. Well, I guess that’s just more money in my bank account. Maybe I’ll have enough for that Caribbean Cruise before long.
He reached for his latest Wodke Hawkinson novel as he kept one eye on the television.
Chapter 62
Jase ran back to the car. “You ain’t gonna believe this shit,” he shouted and thrust a hand skyward.
“What shit?” Benny asked with excitement, catching Jase’s mood and running with it.
“They’re gone. Every last fucking one of them.”
“Who?” Pete looked around, puzzled.
“Who? What the fuck are you? A moron? The fucking reporters are gone, that’s who.” Jase beamed. “Let’s do this thing.”
Pete and Benny knew that the thing was to create a diversion so Pete could get inside and decommission the guard, so they saved themselves from some verbal abuse by simply agreeing.
“Like we planned, okay?” Jase asked.
“Right!” Pete slipped from the vehicle and blended into the shrubbery against the wall surrounding the secluded residential area.
Jase drove quickly down the street, passed the guard shack, and once he was out of sight, he made a u-turn. He entered the drive and slowly approached the right side of Jerry’s shelter, stopping just short of the building.
Jerry saw the car turn into the drive. At the same time, a man jumped from the passenger side of the vehicle and began to yell at the driver “You fucking asshole. You’ve totally gotten us lost. Now there’s no way we can get there on time.” He banged his fist on the hood, being careful not to leave a dent.
Jerry watched as the driver got out, too. “We ain’t lost, dickhead. Just get back in the car so we can get the hell back on the road.”
Jerry was just reaching for the phone to call the police when the door to his shack burst open and a huge man yanked the receiver from his hand and from the console. Before Jerry could even cry out, a blade had been thrust between two of his ribs.
Pete smiled as the man stared at him in disbelief and slid slowly to the floor. Pete found the listing of residents and quickly noted the address of Clark and Brooklyn Parrish. He gave the man on the floor a kick for good measure before rejoining Jase and Benny who had gotten back in the car and were ready to go.
Chapter 63
Night was quickly falling when Clark decided to pick another fight with Brook. She'd finished packing everything and debated aloud whether to go to a motel or to stay one more night in the guestroom.
“Maybe I don’t want you to stay one more night under my roof. You ever think of that, Brook baby?”
Clark’s tone worried Brook. His speech was slightly slurred and his language was beginning to remind her of her captors. “Fine, then, I won’t. I’ll get a motel.” Brook was moving toward the kitchen extension when she noticed the door that led to the garage was open a crack. Time froze…
“You know,” Brook said clearly and moved to stand near Clark. “I don’t think I care what you think. I am going to stay here tonight.” Leaning close to him, she whispered, “Did you leave the door open to the garage?”
“What?” Clark spoke sharply but Brook shushed him.
“Please, Clark! Did you leave the door open?” Brook spoke as softly as she could and still have Clark hear her.
Clark caught Brook’s anxiety and completely misunderstood her distress. “Those fucking reporters. I’m gonna kill them if they’ve broken into the house.” He started toward the kitchen, ready to confront whoever had entered his home.
“Clark! No!” Brook pleaded quietly, clutching his sleeve. “I don’t think it's reporters."
