The man in the tan jacket had dirty blond hair, severely parted at the side and slicked back. He too held a Glock.
Shaw looked at Hannah’s face, less scared than defiant.
The thirty percent chance had come to pass.
It happens. Thirty is not zero.
Parker raged, “Where’s Frank? What’d you do to him?”
Jacket said, “Shh there, pretty lady.”
“No,” Hannah whispered, understanding Villaine’s fate. “No! You asshole!”
Jacket smiled.
People give up information eventually. Everyone does. Pain is one of the most powerful forces on earth. Shaw hoped Frank gave up the address fast, and the Twins ended his agony: both the physical pain, and the psychic, from betraying them.
Toward the front of the property the alarm in Parker’s car shut itself off.
Eyeing Shaw, Suit said, “I know you are of a certain sort. That is clearly on the table. And you have a weapon.”
How did they know that? Both of his guns were hidden from sight. Then Shaw remembered that Merritt had seen him at Parker’s house and must’ve noticed the Glock before he slipped into the garage and escaped. He would have told the Twins about it.
Suit continued, “You do this for a living, I have no doubt. But here.” He aimed the muzzle at Hannah’s neck. The girl gasped and Parker started forward. She stopped when Suit moved the weapon closer.
Shaw said calmly, “I’m taking you seriously. Just move your aim aside.”
The men eyed each other for a moment, then Suit eased the gun to the side. He nodded to Tan Jacket, who handed his pistol over to his partner and stepped forward. Pulling on blue gloves, he frisked Shaw expertly, and relieved him of the Glock, the extra mags, the Colt and the phone. He unloaded the weapons and tossed the ammo into the lake. The guns and phone, he dropped into a fire pit filled with ashes and half-burned logs.
He then searched Parker; his hand started slowly down her spine. Fury on her face, she elbowed his arm back.
Eyes on his partner, Suit said, “Let us just move along here.”
Tan Jacket gave a laugh. He took her phone and Hannah’s from Parker’s pockets. She muttered, “My daughter doesn’t have anything. Don’t touch her.”
Suit nodded.
Tan Jacket shrugged and tossed the two phones into the pit, along with another one, taken from his pocket—probably a burner they had no use for.
And a burner it turned out to be. Tan Jacket had brought withhim from the woods—where Shaw could see the white Transit parked—a large red can of gas. He poured a good amount into the pit. With a lighter, he set fire to the contents. Shaw watched his father’s gift, the Colt, burn.
Suit stepped back, keeping the gun in Hannah’s direction. He said to his partner, “The camper.”
Jacket took back his own gun and walked to the Winnebago. He stepped inside.
Hannah was staring at Suit. While her mother was livid, the girl was not. Her face was a mask of calm.
She’d be thinking:
Never fight from emotion.
Shaw would have to watch her. Now was not the time for bold moves.
“Where’s my husband?” Parker asked angrily.
“On his way.”
She said bitterly, “He’s paying you. How much?”