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Zaiden was skilled at gathering details about people while expertly concealing his own information. He knew he could navigate this interaction without revealing his hand.
It occurred to Zaiden that if Chains was at Juliette’s, it meant he’d arrived either by bike or truck. If the former was the case, then his truck would be parked at Riverside. He’d had the good fortune of bumping into a local earlier who had provided directions to Riverside. So, he had Chains’ residential address. Finding the truck, then, wouldn’t pose much of a challenge.
Once again, Zaiden dialed Nathan’s number and briefed him on his latest scheme, before setting out to investigate the mode of transport Chains had chosen to reach Juliette’s. Arriving at Juliette’s and spotting the bike, he immediately rang Nathan back to update him on the situation: He’d pick him up, and together, they’d head to Chains’ residence to hijack the truck. The plan was simple – secure the box from Juliette, then coax her and Chains into taking their bikes for a spin. While they were away, Nathan and his accomplice would swoop in with Chains’ truck, hoist the Indian onto it, and transport it to Nathan’s place. They could then either return or ditch the truck, depending on the time available.
But as he relayed this to Nathan, he became suddenly conscious of a glaring issue: he was still riding the stolen bike. Turning up at Juliette’s the next morning, astride a BMW of all things, was bound to raise eyebrows and questions that he might struggle to address.
So he decided to swing by the mall, not expecting his Harley to still be parked there. However, miracles do happen – just like the improbable return of the box. To his surprise there is was, right where he’d parked it. The stars were aligning…his luck was changing. Much to his amazement, there it was, in the exact spot where he had left it. It seemed like the stars were finally aligning, and his luck was turning for the better. After ensuring the parking lot was deserted, he swiftly scanned under the seat of his biker for the tracker and attacked it to the BMW. Mounting his bike, he exited the area, not before making a precautionary loop to verify he wasn’t being trailed. His destination: Nathan’s place.
The odds of everything falling into place as he hoped were slim, but they had fallback plans. If things didn’t pan out, they would either abandon the truck or return it to Chains’ place to try again another day. Once Zaiden had the box, time would become less of a pressing concern. The urgency to leave town would recede, except for the mystery of why the man from the bar had been tracking him – another knot he needed to untangle.
Leaving his bike at Nathan’s, they journeyed to the Riverside address in Nathan’s Silverado. They found themselves in a tranquil neighborhood, the houses buffered by vast trees which promised some semblance of privacy – a feature likely to deter nosy neighbors from observing their activities. To their delight, Chains’ truck was parked next to his house.
Zaiden chuckled. “It’s a ’56,” he informed Nathan, commenting on the age of Chains’ truck. “Even a fucking schoolboy could make off with this one.”
And true to his word, mere minutes later, Zaiden was commandeering Chains’ truck back to Nathan’s, his companion trailing behind in the Silverado.
Returning to his place, Zaiden was buzzing with adrenaline. With the knowledge that he would soon possess the still locked box and having planned a diversion to steal Juliette’s Indian the next day, sleep eluded him. He thought about hiring a woman for the night but decided against it. There would be ample time for that later, and more than enough money to afford them.
* * *
Nathan reclinedin the inconspicuous Toyota he’d stolen under the cloak of last night’s darkness. He was parked a few houses away from Juliette’s property, far enough to remain unnoticed but close enough to keep an eye on the driveway. Earlier, he had watched Zaiden roar into her yard on his Harley to talk Chains and Juliette into going for a ride on their bikes with him.
Zaiden still hadn’t divulged the full scope of his plans, particularly his motives concerning the box.
Nathan sat waiting, wondering what the hell was taking so long. As the seconds dripped into minutes and the minutes stretched into an hour, his tolerance was put to the test. In an attempt to distract himself from the ticking clock, he kept a watchful eye on the everyday activities peppering the neighborhood – the postman on his rounds, neighbors out on their morning strolls with their dogs, the occasional car cruising past. He was aware of the need to remain unseen, to blend into the background, to evade any sharp-eyed individual who could potentially connect his face to the forthcoming bike heist. He needed to stretch his legs already but that wasn’t an option for now.
With the car window rolled down, he listened for the distinct rumble of Harley engines – his signal to spring into action and alert Will, his right-hand man, to bring Chains’ truck around. Together, they planned to swiftly load the Indian onto the truck and disappear before anyone noticed its absence, or them at the scene. He intended to desert the Toyota at a safe distance, severing any link between it and the theft.
Despite the waiting, an undercurrent of anticipation surged through him, a keen sense of the high stakes pulsing with each passing moment.
The thought of the Indian sitting in his shed circled his mind incessantly. The beautiful machine, a potential windfall he’d prefer to keep for his own enjoyment rather than selling and splitting the profits with Zaiden, made the wait almost bearable.
Fuck it. I’m not going through all this to share it with that motherfucker. Once we’re done I need to find a way to get rid of Zaiden.
* * *
Amidst the calm morning ambiance,Juliette and Chains were sitting leisurely, their coffee on a small table between them as Zaiden’s bike rumbled to a halt. Swinging his leg over the side of the bike, he ambled towards them, adopting the relaxed demeanor of an old friend visiting on a lazy Sunday. The gravel crunched under his boots as he moved closer, his smile broad, radiating warmth that cloaked the true depths beneath, the image of innocence.
His eyes were drawn to the item resting beside the mugs – the box. His heart kicked up a notch. The linchpin of his endeavors was within his grasp.
As he got closer, his eyes flicked to Juliette. Her own were fixated on something – his left leg. His mind raced to the tear in his jeans. Inwardly cursing himself for the oversight, he nonchalantly shifted his weight onto his right foot, casually angling the tear away from her line of sight.
His heart hammered in his chest, but his smile didn’t falter. He was an expert at controlling his exterior, even when his mind was racing. “Morning, Juliette.” He greeted her warmly, his voice steady despite his thudding heart. “And Chains, good to see you too.” He nodded at the man, his mind already whirring with strategies for the conversation ahead.
Chains looked like a hard man to take down, but desperation breeds strength, and Zaiden thought if worst came to worst, he could take Chains out in a surprise attack and grab the box. Nathan and he could always come back for the Indian once this problem had been settled.
He offered Chains a nod. “Been a while, bro,” he said, his voice laced with amiable familiarity. Inwardly, he was already calculating distances – to Chains, to the box, back to his bike. Every scenario ran through his mind in vivid detail.
The seconds ticked by as he waited for Chains’ response.
“Yeah, man,” Chains said. Zaiden could tell Chains was unsure who Zaiden was, but unless he said more than “Yeah, man,” Zaiden didn’t have anything to use to string Chains along. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when Chains confessed that he couldn’t remember Zaiden, before asking where Zaiden knew him from.
It was a start. Now all Zaiden needed to do was steer the conversation to build some trust. He knew exactly how he was going to do that.
“You’re Chains from Benjamin Franklin Elementary, right?” Zaiden said.
“Not me, man,” Chains said.
