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What the hell? They broke into the safe?
Moving carefully so they won’t notice any movement, I ease one hand up to whatever it is covering my face. Not a hood, my fingers tell me...feels more like shirt material.
Finding an edge to the fabric, I roll it up slowly, hoping I can get a clear peek from under it.
“If they’d come down the road at the wrong time, they’d have spotted the semi for sure,” Muddy Boots says, irritation grinding in his voice. “I didn’t dare back in to the place after they got home.”
“If you’d have been quicker, we’d be in Washington tonight counting our money,” Carson says bitterly.
“Fuck you, dude. Getting in the house was easy enough, but that safe was a royal bitch. Took me almost an hour to crack the code and get it just right. I thought you gave me shitty equipment, but I finally got it, didn’t I? You’re welcome, dick.”
“Oh, yes, the FBI’s finest would be green with jealousy. Thankfully, despite your hiccups, this plan will work just as well,” Carson says. “We have time. No one will know we were gone for hours. We also have the advantage of Halloween night. It’s the psychology of the thing, far more people than usual like being tucked in and off the roads by now. Also, you’re forgetting the whole point of our little hit and run with the old woman. A crime like that eats up the podunk police force’s energy. It should keep them occupied for hours, plus any local vigilantes, too.”
Anger thrums in my blood.
He talks about hitting Faye in the effing head like she’s a bone you throw to distract a bad-tempered dog.
If I’ve already signed my death warrant, I hope I get a chance to stab this turd in the eyes before I’m gone.
“Stick to the backroads until we hit the state line, Mr. Remington. Then it’ll be free sailing to the port in Everett by noon. Perhaps we can stop for breakfast somewhere midway. I’ll need to follow up with our buyer.” He lets out a disgusted sigh before asking, “And you did make sure the cars were chained down tight and covered, yes?”
“Duh. I did that while you and the guys were dealing with the girl. You’re sure you didn’t kill her already?” He sniffs. “She hasn’t made a peep since you threw her back there.”
“I’m certain she’s just passed out from the shock. It’s hardly the first time I’ve had to render someone unconscious.” He clucks his tongue like the inconvenience of knocking me out cold upsets him. “Such a feisty young thing, too. I wish I’d gotten a chance to find out what’s under the hood, however...it can’t be helped. Not now.”
Gross! I wrestle back a gag.
“Um, yeah,” Muddy Boots say awkwardly. “So when do you think she’ll wake up? And what do we do if she freaks out?”
Carson doesn’t answer. Instead, there’s this loud shuffling sound.
Something grabs my leg—a hand, feeling for me.
Don’t react.
I force myself to go limp as cold fingers grapple around just below my knee, giving my leg a firm shake.
“Out like a blown candle. I doubt she’ll be a concern for a while,” Carson says, releasing my leg.
“That ain’t my question. The fuck we gonna do when she wakes up back there and starts screaming?”
“Simple—knock her out again. Now, quit stressing. You’re acting like a virgin with this sort of thing. I’m sure that’s not the case, considering your ability to recruit a few more hands for the job at that seedy little bar,” Carson says.
I carefully ease the fabric bunched around my head higher, enough to peer out under it.
Yep, it’s a semi, and I’m in the sleeper.
Carson sits in the passenger seat with Muddy Boots at the wheel. His accomplice wears a blue baseball cap, puffing on a cigarette like it’s nothing more than a casual road trip.
Sigh. Now I know where the mystery butts came from, and why Carson never smelled like cigarettes when he pretended to smoke.
It’s dark outside, and darker still inside the cab.
The few snatches of faint light through the window tell me nothing.
I couldn’t guess where we are.
I just know I’m isolated, hurt, and at every disadvantage in a nightmare scenario like this.
