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Brenda narrowed her eyes, glanced back at the walk-in cooler, and decided to ask Wilson a few more questions while Mack worked on the roof. Mack won't break all the way up into the roof until it gets dark. We have time. It's possible Adam will wait until it gets dark, too.
Brenda stepped back to the cooler and snatched the door open. Wilson looked at Brenda with a cold, shivering face. “I didn't hurt no one, honest,” he blurted out. “I… Brian let me come live with him. Free labor, that's all I was. I told him Adam was a louse. Please...”
“Shut up,” Brenda snapped at Wilson. “We'll let a jury decide your fate. Right now I want to know if you have ever seen any strangers in town other than Adam Frinton?”
Wilson licked his cold lips. “Yeah, once,” he confessed. “Brian was real drunk and being real mean. I took a walk into the corn, ended up near the farmhouse Adam stays at. Heard voices...” Wilson winced a little. “I was real mad about Brian beating up on me. I blamed Adam. Didn't know who Adam was talking to… didn't care. I was going to give the guy a piece of my mind.”
“Get real,” Brenda told Wilson in a disgusted voice. “If he’s what you say he is, you can't confront someone like that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Wilson grimaced, “but… I wanted to feel brave.” Wilson lowered his eyes. “I sneaked close to the voices. Adam was talking to a man he called Bruce. They were standing in the front driveway. I saw a limo, real flashy. The limo had a name—”
“What name?” Brenda snapped.
“It was real dark. I saw the name Collins… or Callers… or Callings… something like that. But I did see the word 'Pharmaceutical'. Honest as day I saw that word on that limo. The porch light was—”
“I get it,” Brenda grunted as her mind began to go to work. “You wouldn’t be alive if you had been seen. You might come in handy in a courtroom.” Too bad I can't make a phone call.
Brenda returned her focus to the back door. Whatever case they may be able to build later, the fact was she and Mack had to fight their way out of Green Ridge with a scared little boy.
***
Adam Frinton had no intention of allowing Mack or Brenda leave his town alive. “I'm watching the back,” he yelled into a black walkie-talkie, keeping his eyes trained on Brian's dead body. Flies were beginning to circulate around the man's lifeless head. “Ken, you and Cody watch the front. Tell George to circle around to my side and take up a position in the corn. I want him just far enough out to hide his position, but close enough in to see the alley. Is that clear?”
“Clear, Mr. Frinton,” Ken Sallows answered in a fighting voice. “You can count on us!”
Adam dropped his walkie-talkie into a black combat bag, yanked out his private cell phone, and called Bruce. “Send in a team,” he demanded. “I have five dead
men. I can't count on these local idiots anymore.”
Bruce stepped into a long meeting room with a conference table and black leather chairs. “Who are these cops,” he demanded, trying to grind his teeth into dust.
“I don't know,” Adam answered, eyeing the scorched cornfields stretching out before him. “Send in a team. I have the cops tied down in the diner.”
“No,” Bruce snapped and hit the long power table with a cruel fist. “Adam, I have too much at risk to be annoyed by two stupid cops.” Bruce closed his murderous eyes. “The cops have to be undercover agents. If I send in a team, I'll expose my position. You have to take care of them. Is that clear?”
“And what if I can't?”
Bruce imagined his right hand taking a knife and stabbing Adam in his face. “If you're still on shaky ground by tomorrow morning, I'll send in a team. But I warn you, if I have to send in a team, you won't leave Green Ridge alive. If you try to run, I'll find you. You know I will.”
Adam kept his eyes on the corn. “Consider it done, but if you ever threaten me again, I'll kill you myself.”
“You can try,” Bruce snapped and then ended the call. “This is no good,” he whispered in a voice that was filled with concern.
Without wasting a second, he made a call. “This is Bruce. Get a hit team ready. We have a problem. Green Ridge... Midnight... Everyone in town. Leave no one alive and then get rid of the bodies... Yes, including my brother. Make it look like they vanished into thin air. Raptured or something.” He smiled at the cleverness of that.
Bruce ended the call. Rhode was a professional killer who would get the job done. Rhode was also the only man who could kill Adam, or so Bruce believed.
Meanwhile, back in Green Ridge, George, following Adam’s order, was sneaking out of the back door of the general store and moving around to the other side of the street. From his perch on the diner’s room, Adam spotted George scurrying across the hot street wearing his black robe. “Idiots,” he complained. George was out of shape. Running through the blazing heat wearing a black robe was hard work. After he dashed into the corn and found a secured position, he dropped down onto cracked, dry dirt and nearly passed out from heat exhaustion. “Need a smoke… and a drink” George gasped, ripping the black hood off his head.
Adam aimed his rifle’s high-powered scope in George’s direction and spotted him pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, along with a silver flask filled with whiskey. Adam knew that if George accidentally set the corn on fire that the fire would consume the entire town within minutes. Adam felt rage burn through his heart. Instead of warning George to put his smokes away, he aimed his rifle at George's forehead and fired off a single shot. George never knew what hit him. “Mr. Frinton?” Ken screamed into his walkie-talkie.
“The enemy cops just shot George dead. They're back in the diner. Hold your position!” Adam hollered into his own walkie-talkie, feeling empowered.
“You're next, Bruce” he hissed.
Mack heard the shot that took the life of another drunken farmer. He lowered his right hand, listened, then wiped sweat from his forehead. The shot came above his head about seven feet off to his right. “I know where you're standing now,” Mack whispered. He went back to work.
Brenda heard the rifle shot. So did Josh. Josh came bursting into the kitchen. “It's alright, son,” Brenda assured him. “Go back where you were.”
