We said goodbye and disconnected the call, and then I sent a quick group text to the best people on my payroll in Vegas. After I filled them in on what had happened, I asked them to watch the bar, in case Greco’s men came back to finish the job. It was tempting to ask them to watch my brother’s apartment too, but none of them knew the address and maybe it was best to keep it that way. I trusted these people to an extent, but who could say if they’d remain loyal to me if Greco decided to put the screws to them?
I pulled away from the curb and was deep in thought when Jack said, “Well, shit. That sounded serious.”
I’d actually forgotten he was there. “It is.”
“So…what are you going to do with me?”
“I’m not setting you free,” I told him. “It took me two weeks to find you, and after this you might disappear entirely.”
“If you’re thinking about leaving me chained up somewhere, I wholeheartedly object.”
“Like I’d let you out of my sight. You’re coming with me to Vegas.” There was so much wrong with that idea, but I really didn’t see an alternative. I shot him a look and added, “I need you to not be a huge pain in my ass, though. We have a long drive ahead of us, and believe me when I say I’m in no mood for any bullshit.”
“I’ll cooperate, I promise. But why are you taking your car? It’s a solid eight- or nine-hour drive, as opposed to a ninety-minute flight.”
“Because I’m taking a shitload of guns with me, and the airlines tend to frown on that.”
Jack whispered, “Oh,” before falling silent again.
When we arrived at my apartment, I pulled into the garage, then closed the door behind us and took the keys, the gun, and the garage remote with me as I climbed out of the car. I pinned Jack with a glare and told him, “I’ll be back in three minutes. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I won’t. I swear.”
I didn’t believe him, but if I hurried, hopefully he wouldn’t have enough time to make my night even worse.
7
Jack
I sat perfectly still as I watched Reno go inside his townhouse. But the moment the door shut behind him, I opened the glove box and rummaged around. I found a ballpoint pen and quickly removed the little spring inside it. If I straightened it out, it could be a useful tool. Then I broke off the metal clip and stuck both of those things in an inside coat pocket before tossing what was left of the pen behind a workbench.
Since the convertible’s top was down, I climbed over the door and searched the storage cupboard beside me. I didn’t dare to open the car door and risk having Reno hear me shut it again.
The cupboard contained a few household supplies like light bulbs and paper towels, which were of no use to me. But there was also a stack of owners’ manuals and warranty information for the kitchen appliances, and those netted me two paperclips. I added them to my pocket before climbing back into my seat and pulling up a neutral expression.
With those finds, I could remove the handcuffs any time I wanted to. It might take a minute though, so now wasn’t the time to try out my new tools—not with Reno returning at any moment. I’d much rather make the drive to Vegas in a nice, comfy seat instead of the trunk, and I was pretty sure that was where I’d end up if he caught me trying to escape.
Reno returned maybe thirty seconds after I sat back down. He’d put on a black wool overcoat with his charcoal gray suit, and he was carrying a heavy-looking black bag, a laptop case, and a couple of other things. The bags went into the trunk, and after he took a seat behind the wheel, he put a baseball cap and a blanket on my lap.
I asked, “What are these for?”
He pulled his keys and a remote from his coat pocket and opened the garage door with the click of a button. Then he explained, as he started the engine, “The mechanism to put up the Caddy’s top is broken, and the desert is cold at night.”
“So…did you want me to hold these for you until we get to the desert?”
“They’re for you, so you don’t freeze.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, as we rolled out of the garage and the door shut behind us. “Why are you being nice to me?”
He shot me a look. “If you make a big deal of it, I’m throwing the blanket out of the car.” Then he put the car in gear and began driving down the hill.
“Nope, definitely not making a big deal of it.” I put on the black baseball cap, then spread out the white, down-filled blanket and tucked it around me. “Thank you. That was surprisingly considerate. Well, unless you only did it to butter me up, in the hopes of convincing me to return the watch.”
“You’re making me regret being nice to you.”
“I’ll shut up now.” That lasted all of twenty seconds before I said, “So, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. What are you going to do about the guy who smashed up your mom’s bar?”
“I have no idea. I already temporarily shut down my business and retreated to San Francisco like a fucking coward, because I thought that might defuse the situation. He has a lot more men and resources than I do, so if I go after him, I’m guaranteed to lose.”