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Her eyes scanned the road frantically. At each stoplight she searched for someone she knew, anyone who could help her. And no one m
et her eyes. Time was running out, and she knew it.
Jim chuckled at her assessment. “When I came back eight years ago, Johnny was a mess over his uncle’s death and what Dawg had stolen from him. Chandler Mackay tried to do right by Johnny. He knew Johnny was smarter, better than his son was. And Johnny knew how much Chandler wanted to make certain he was rewarded for being the son Dawg wouldn’t be. Dawg stole that inheritance, Miss Jansen. And I built Johnny back up. I helped him regain his confidence and his sense of place in the world. He loves me. And he will leave with me. What his mother or the Mackays have is nothing compared to what I can give him in Nicaragua. ”
“A country filled with war and death. With insurgents, rebellions, and terrorists?” Crista shook her head. “He will never leave Somerset for that, Jim. You know he won’t. ”
“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to blow your head off right here in the middle of town. ” Once again, his voice only became harder, darker. Vicious. There was no conscience there, no regret, and no second thoughts.
Crista inhaled roughly, then flinched at the sound of a cell phone. It wasn’t hers. No, she couldn’t be that lucky. Hers was back at the office.
“Hey, baby,” Jim answered the call, his voice gentling. “I’m heading to the meeting point. Do you have everything ready?”
Crista gripped the steering wheel harder, knowing she couldn’t go much farther. If she actually managed to let him get her out of town, then no one would ever know what happened to her.
She stared at the traffic around her, in front of her. There was one more stoplight. If she timed that one right and ran it—
A car pulled in front of her, and from the backseat, a hand waved. Crista focused, nearly whimpering in relief at the sight of Rowdy Mackay.
She didn’t know who was driving, but Rowdy was in the backseat. He was holding up fingers. Six fingers. Pointed around her.
Six. Six people following them. She didn’t dare nod, couldn’t do anything to draw attention to herself. She checked the rearview mirror but didn’t see Dawg. He would be there, though. If Rowdy was here, then Dawg was close.
Rowdy held up a piece of paper then.
“Do as he says!” The thick black wording glared back at her.
She lifted one finger from the steering wheel to indicate she understood.
“Don’t worry, Johnny. I’m watching her,” Jim assured him. “We’ll be there soon, and everything can proceed as planned. Just make certain you’re ready. ”
She glanced back at him. He kept his eyes trained on her, his scowl firmly in place.
She turned back. Rowdy was holding up another note.
“You’re covered!”
She lifted her fingers to indicate that she understood. Then he turned around; the car changed lanes again and let the van pass them.
She was covered. She inhaled slowly. Deeply. Dawg wouldn’t let anything happen to her now.
She just had to stay calm.
“I love you, baby. Just stay cool. Another fifteen minutes, and we’ll be there. ” Jim’s rough voice softened, almost making Crista ill. And it had nothing to do with the obviously sexual relationship between him and Johnny. But how could a man love anyone that much and be a killer?
Jim shifted then, moving between the seats and glancing out the front window. He looked around with quiet satisfaction, checked the rearview mirror, then moved to the back of the van to look through the dark, tinted windows.
“Excellent,” he grunted. “See, we got away free and clear, Crista. Dawg didn’t even know when you left. I wonder if he’s even realized that you’re not at the store any longer. ”
“He’ll know. ” He would have known within minutes.
Jim laughed. “He doesn’t know shit. I made sure of it. He had such a mess to untangle in the lumberyard that he’s probably still trying to figure it out. I planned this very carefully, you know. ”
Not well enough. Crista stared straight ahead and tried to concentrate on just breathing. Dawg was close; she could feel him. Everything would be okay. She repeated it to herself over and over again and prayed she was right.
Dawg kept the van in sight from the backseat of the bright red extended-cab pickup truck Cranston and Dane had been waiting in outside the front of the store.
He was sweating. He could feel the moisture rolling from his forehead and dampening his back.
