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A teenage girl with spectacular eyebrow piercings, her eyes wide, said, “It’s been there for a couple of days, maybe since Tuesday night. But it’s not Maggie’s car.”
“Who’s Maggie, honey? Does she live here?”
“Yeah, but she’s on a cruise with Wes. I dunno whose car this is. Maybe a friend?”
Jake stopped, blinked, made very clear eye contact and asked, “Did you say Maggie and Wes live here?”
The girl nodded. Seconds later, Jake was on the phone.
Pendale, TX
Thursday, 2:40 a.m.
“Ridge,you gotta just listen to me for a second, OK?” Corbett stood opposite Ridge in his living room, blocking the front door. He knew it was a long shot, but it seemed to be his responsibility to prevent Ridge from going off like a bomb.
“I’m listening for ten seconds. Then I’m starting a war. Go.” Raven stayed put in her armchair with legs folded under her. Watching him like this was terrifying; he was beyond angry, beyond furious. This was something else.
“You have no targets and no plan of attack. Running around San Antonio with a shotgun isn’t going to achieve very much.”
“Wrong, and wrong. I’ve got a first-rate source of intelligence. Time to start utilizing our assets.” Ridge grabbed Hank and pressed him against the wall.
“Wait!” Raven couldn’t bear this. An hour ago they had been the happiest people alive. It was like watching the Hulk, driven to unrestrained fury by some asshole with a gas can and matches. “You’re not going to hurt him, and you’re not going to go hunting anyone down. Right?”
“Says who?” Ridge shot back.
“Says me, for one,” Corbett interjected. “Iam, after all, a cop, you know. If you threaten to breach the peace, I’ll have no option but to...”
“Arrest me?” Ridge asked, incredulous. He let go of Hank, turning back to Corbett. “You got some maniac torching cars, threatening people, andI’mthe one you want to put the cuffs on?”
“You’re gonna calm the fuck down, Ridge, or you’re damnrightI’ll put the cuffs on you,” he yelled. “Think, God damnit! Stop and think, like the rational man I know you are.”
“Not today I’m not,” Ridge replied darkly.
“Well, the Ridge Dawson I know neveronceheaded into action without a plan so fuckin’ meticulous it took a PhD to understand it.”
Ridge rubbed his face, ran taut hands through his short black hair, and took a very deep breath. “I’m toopissedto plan.”
Corbett glanced at Raven — so pale and scared, curled up on the sofa — then at Hank, stressed and crumpled, sitting in the corner, as far from Ridge as possible. “Not for long.” He looked squarely at Ridge, then almost bodily dragged him outside to the back porch. Raven got the light switch while Corbett helped Ridge to hang up his trusty old punching bag on a hook. Suspending the bag above the back deck, Corbett stood aside and let Ridge pound out his frustrations.
“We’ve been doing it this way for years,” Corbett explained to Raven, raising his voice a little over the noise of impacts and Ridge de-stressing. “You got to let it out,” he said to them both. “When things get crazy, don’t bottle it all up. We learned that early, and you’d be amazed how much a little violence will calm you down.”
Ridge stopped and gave Corbett a very stern look. “Want to rethink that analogy, detective?”
Red-faced, he rushed to apologize. “Jesus, Raven, I’m sorry, there’s nothing ever funny about violence. You know what I meant, right?”
She put a hand to his arm and smiled. “Don’t worry. For Ridge, I can’t imagine anything better right now.” She glanced back to see that Hank had remained inside, terrified by this display of practiced aggression. She and Corbett watched quietly as Ridge pounded the bag, quick flurries alternating with strong jabs and the occasional deadly, game-ending uppercut. “Makes me kinda glad he’s not allowed to do that in his MMA fights. The other guys would never survive!”
Then Ridge stopped. “Look,” he said, out of nowhere, “the biggest problem here isn’t that they wantHank. As I see things, the problem is that they wantmoney. Right?” He held the bag still, panting and sweating, the anger somehow transformed into an incisive, clear-headed focus.
Corbett weighed this up. “Err... Yeah. I guess that’s about right.”
“Well,” Ridge said again. “I have money.”
Hank pressed ‘send’with a certain cringe to his expression. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes.” Ridge had dictated the text and taken a big step toward ending their nightmare. “10 a.m. gives us time to hit up the bank and get out to Three Rivers.”
“They’ll want more, Ridge. They said a hundred.”
