He waves me off and turns back into the house. “I’m trying.”
“And Abel. Find out where he is. I can’t do shit if I don’t know where he is.”
He nods. “Keep your cell on. I’ll call you.”
I sprint along the dark residential street, since my truck is still at Paddy’s truck stop, and head toward Main Street to find the real estate office I saw in those photos.
I’ve gotta start somewhere, and I can’t go to the club to ask around.
I’m not sure if I’m doing this because she’s Jess’, or because she’s identical to the woman I love.
Am I doing it because I thought it was Jess in the pictures? Would I do it for just any woman?
No. Because there are hundreds of club whores, and I never did anything about them.
This is for Jess.
This is for her sister – identical, but so fucking scared it hurts my gut.
Slowing to a jog, my heavy bag slaps my back and the guns inside rattle together. I’m armored up enough to fight a war, but instead of heading to the front line, I’m taking a detour to visit an animal, and in the process, risking being found by either side; Turner’s cops, or Abel’s men.
I’m not welcome on either team.
I turn the corner onto Main and stop against the wall of a photography studio when police cruisers speed through with flashing lights. I check my watch; it’s closing in on six, which means Turner’s people have had their ‘how the fuck do we find him?’ meeting, and now they’re moving.
They won’t find me until I’m ready, but they might come close. There aren’t a whole lot of places to hide in this tiny ass town, so no doubt we’ll cross over a dozen times before this is done.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Stepping further into shadow, my breath comes out in pillowy white clouds. The hour before the sun comes up is the coldest, and I’m out here all alone while my heart sits in a police station.
Jess:Come back.
Jess:I need you.
Jess:Please be safe. I’ll be your lawyer. I’ll fight for you. There’s nothing I can’t fix for you, just don’t hurt my cops.
I push my phone back into my pocket, swallow my nerves, and pray I see her again. I pray I’ll speak to her again. I pray our last communication isn’t her asking for me and me ignoring her.
It goes against everything in my soul to not reply, to not come when called, to not do anything she wants, but I have a target on my head and I can’t stand still.
We’re sharks, and sharks die if they’re still for too long.
Taking a deep breath, I move out of the shadows and toward the real estate offices this douche is employed in.
He’ll go down. He’ll go down painfully. He’ll apologize to Jess’ sister before he dies, and by then Eric will have found Abel, and I’ll head over and take care of that, too.
Sirens come closer as the cops hit one end of town and circle back. I dart across the empty street, into the park, and race across the open space toward a giant spruce and an empty bench. I press my back to the thick tree and watch as red and blue lights illuminate the sky around me, but as blind as they are, they move on.
Two, three, four cruisers.
As soon as the sky returns to black, I move to the park bench and lie down. Pulling a thick coat from the bottom of my bag, then a pair of Steiner military grade binoculars, I bring the coat over my body until it covers most of my face.
Bringing the binoculars up, I zoom in on the real estate office and read the signage.
Jackson and Jackson Real Estate Professionals.
Your trusted home for finding a home to trust.
I readthe names listed under the signage, and the letters that come after, the letters that prove they went to school to learn how to sell shit.