by T. R. Ragan
Whenever she watched Povo’s trailer and his house, people always seemed to be coming and going, which was why she’d driven to the site early today. The crew wouldn’t arrive for another hour, at least. She wanted to get a quick look around the inside of Povo’s trailer and see if anything popped out at her—any sign that might tell her Povo was trouble. Maybe there would be a lady inside, bras and panties scattered around.
She pulled the collar of her coat up, closer to her ears. It was cold and each breath came out in puffs of white fog. As she made her way up the unpaved driveway, her boots crunched over gravel. Last night, as she sat alone in her empty apartment, she had decided she needed an attitude adjustment. She was being paid to do a job, and she needed to do it well. Danielle Cartwright was a nice lady. She deserved to know if the man she was going to marry was a decent guy.
Hayley had been right when she told her she needed to knock on some doors and talk to people. Jessica had her speech prepared. She was ready. When Povo opened the door, she would feign interest in the house he was building.
She would have preferred to come later in the day, when Magnus would be working, but her instincts told her he was probably a player, the kind of guy who dated a different girl every month. And that was that last thing she needed. Sure, going out with a guy like Magnus might be a confidence booster, but he was beyond handsome, and the chances of his sticking around for very long were a million to one. She shook her head at her wayward thoughts as she approached the trailer. She knew she was being foolish. She’d met Magnus one time and yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
As she raised her knuckles to the door, she heard men talking inside. When she leaned her ear closer to the door, she noticed mud on the side of the trailer.
“We delivered the goods as promised. This is your last chance, Povo. Where’s the money?”
There was a scuffle accompanied by a couple of loud grunts. Something shattered against the wall. Jessica’s eyes widened and her heart rate soared. Her gaze kept connecting with the mud splattered against the side of the trailer. She examined it closer. It wasn’t mud at all. It was blood splatter. She stood frozen in place, knowing she should run, but unable to move.
A hand clamped over her mouth.
Her screams were muffled as she struggled to get away, but then she saw that it was Magnus. “Quiet,” he said as he took hold of her arm and ushered her down the driveway and toward her car.
He opened her car door. “You need to go, Jessica.”
“You know my name?”
“Where are your keys?” he asked, ignoring her question.
Jessica shuffled around inside her bag for her keys, then started the engine. “What’s going on?”
“Go! I mean it!”
Sacramento
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Lizzy and Brittany had been driving through the streets of Sacramento for thirty minutes when Lizzy said, “I think you’re ready to drive on the freeway.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Let’s do it. Take a right at the light and then take I-80 East toward Reno.”
This was Lizzy’s third time driving with her niece at the wheel, but Brittany was a natural, so Lizzy wasn’t worried. It was noon on a weekday and there was hardly any traffic.
A silver Toyota Tundra appeared out of nowhere and swerved into their lane.
Brittany slammed on the brakes. They both jerked forward.
Tires squealed and Lizzy braced herself, but the car behind them didn’t make contact. The truck sped through the red light.
“Did you see that guy? What an idiot,” Brittany said. “He almost hit us and then went through a red light!”
“Are you fine to drive?”
“I’m good. Are you OK?” The light turned green and Brittany took off again, a little slower than before but still confident in her abilities.
Lizzy took a breath. “I’m fine. Crazy bastard,” she muttered.
A few minutes later, Brittany merged onto the freeway without any problem. The sky was gloomy and gray, but rain wasn’t in the forecast. Lizzy was about to show Brittany how to use cruise control when she spotted the same truck in her side-view mirror. She decided not to mention it to Brittany. No reason to needlessly scare her. In fact, it was difficult to tell if it was the same truck, since she hadn’t been able to see the driver through the tinted windows. Leaning forward, she peered into the side mirror and tried to make out the driver’s features. It was no use.
“Looks like he’s back,” Brittany said. “Do you recognize him?”
“I can’t see a thing. He’s too far away and the windows are dark. Stay in this lane and keep going the speed limit. He can go around us if he’s in a hurry.”
To minimize distractions, Lizzy had insisted they drive with the windows up and the radio off, so the only sound was the steady beat of her heart. Lizzy silently counted to ten. Hoping to keep Brittany’s mind off the truck, Lizzy decided to strike up a conversation. “How’s your mom these days?”
“You talk to her every day. It’s not going to work.”
“What’s not going to work?”
“You’re trying to make me forget about the crazy person tailing us.”
Lizzy sighed. “It was worth a shot.”
Brittany put on her blinker, sped up, and then merged into the fast lane. She got up to eighty miles per hour before Lizzy told her to slow down.
Brittany returned to the middle lane and slowed to the speed limit again. Not more than five seconds later, the truck was back on their tail.
This was not amusing.
“When it’s safe to do so, get into the far-right lane,” Lizzy said. “I’m going to see if I can get the license plate number.”
Brittany moved into the slow lane. The truck did, too.
“It’s a Toyota Tundra, four doors. The license plate had a number six and then maybe an M and a B.”
Lizzy nodded. “Did you get a look at the driver?”
“No. Sorry.” Brittany glanced at the rearview mirror. “The last three digits are zero-zero-two.”
“You’re doing great. Remain calm, keep your eyes on the road, and we’ll be fine.”
“You’re the one who’s worrying.”
“OK, you’re right, I’m worrying,” Lizzy agreed. She pulled out her cell phone and called the police. When she had finished, she said, “Take the next exit.”
“Are you sure? What if he has a gun or something?”
Lizzy tried to think. “I don’t want to get too far from home. We’ll get off at the next exit and I’ll drive.”
“Great.” Brittany put on her blinkers and did as she said.
The truck followed them off the ramp.
The light was red. Brittany stopped at the intersection, where a massive blur of cars passed by at high speeds in both directions. Across the street, Lizzy saw a mall. “When the light turns green, go straight and then pull into the parking lot in front of the shopping center.”
Brittany tapped her fingers on the wheel as she waited for the light to change colors. Lizzy kept her gaze on the side mirror, still hoping to see what the driver looked like. Probably male, over five feet nine inches tall, and thin. She opened the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Just stay where you are.”
Lizzy got out of the car, reached under her sweater, and unsnapped her gun from its holster. Tires squealed as the truck reversed, hitting a white SUV behind him. The SUV honked—one long continuous blare. Before she could catch up to him, she grasped what he was about to do. “No!”
He revved the gas, sped forward, and slammed into the back of Lizzy’s car.
Fear clogged Lizzy’s throat when she heard Brittany screaming as the maniac held his foot on the gas, pushing Lizzy’s car—with her niece still inside—into the speeding cross traffic in front of them.
Lizzy shouted for Brittany to keep her foot on the brake and hit the emergency brake. The smell of burnt tires filled the air
.
The driver of the damaged SUV climbed out, but then he saw Lizzy aim her gun at the front tires of the truck and he ran back to his car, yelling for his passengers to get down.
The silver truck backed up again, preparing for another run. This time he came after Lizzy.
She whipped around, running for her life. She jumped high above the curb and over a ditch, digging her fingers into clumpy dirt, climbing as high and as fast as she could up a small hill. The earth rattled when the truck hit, missing her left leg by a few inches.
Tires squealed as he reversed.
Her feet slid on damp grass as she scrambled upward, gritting her teeth when her hand grasped a clump of thorny brush. Shit!
Back on her feet, she turned and saw that the asshole had reversed far enough that he could make another move on her car. Lizzy locked gazes with Brittany just as the truck hit again, harder this time. Brittany’s body jerked to the side, but the car was sturdy and well built.
Lizzy could see the determination in her niece’s expression. That girl wasn’t going anywhere, which scared her all the more.
The driver of the SUV was on his cell, talking to the police, no doubt. She could see children in the backseat of his car. He was a big guy, and if the kids hadn’t been with him, she had a feeling he would have taken care of the maniac himself.
She heard the sound of approaching sirens. Traffic had stopped all around them. The light had turned green a while ago. The truck reversed again, clipping her back bumper once more before speeding off.
Groups of people huddled together across the street, watching.
Lizzy ran for her car and opened the passenger door. Brittany was shaking, but she wasn’t injured.
The driver of the SUV got out of his car again. “Did you know that guy?”
“No,” Lizzy said. “Did you happen to get a look at him?”
He shook his head. “Afraid not. If my kids weren’t with me, that guy would have been toast.”
Lizzy nodded.
“What’s with the gun?”
“Private investigator. Everybody’s safe.” She never should have pulled out her gun. If they had been on a private road somewhere without any innocent bystanders, she would have shot first and thought about it later. But this wasn’t the place, and perhaps the driver of the truck had been counting on that.
Brittany opened the door on her side, but Lizzy told her to stay where she was.
Two police cars pulled up. One of the officers directed traffic while the other officer greeted Lizzy and the driver of the SUV. For the next hour, the officers took reports. There were plenty of witnesses, but nobody could give a good description of the driver. Lizzy’s car had more dents than a crash-dummy car, but it was still drivable. They were two blocks away from Brittany’s house when Lizzy said, “You did good today. I’m proud of you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s not true,” Lizzy said. “You never once lost your cool.”
“I talked to Mom while you were talking to the cops. She’s freaked out. Who was that guy, Lizzy?”
“I have no idea.”
“Why do all the lunatics in the world go after you?”
“That’s a good question, but I don’t have an answer.”
“Mom’s never going to let me drive with you again. She doesn’t want me to see Hayley either.”
“Why not?”
“She thinks Hayley is a bad influence.”
Lizzy sighed. “It’ll take some time, but she’ll get over it. I’ll talk to her. Until then, maybe I can come over and we can watch movies together like we used to when you were small.”
“Maybe Mom’s right. Maybe you should find another way to earn a living.”
Lizzy made a left. A few houses down, she saw her sister Cathy standing in the driveway, arms crossed. Richard was there, too. Damn.
“This is not going to be pretty,” Brittany said.
“Let me handle your parents.”
Lizzy pulled to the curb and turned off the engine. The moment Brittany climbed out of Lizzy’s beat-up car, both of her parents hovered over their daughter, glad to see she was unharmed. They weren’t the only ones.
Before Lizzy could get out and join them, Richard was in her face, pointing his index finger at her nose and raising his voice. “Who do you think you are? Taking our daughter whenever and wherever you want.”
“I had Cathy’s permission. This isn’t the first time I’ve taken Brittany out to practice driving.”
“I had no idea you were going to let her drive on the freeway,” Cathy cut in. “What were you thinking?”
Lizzy shook her head. “She’s a very good driver. I never questioned for a second that she couldn’t handle it. There isn’t anything Brittany can’t do exceptionally well.”
Brittany smiled at Lizzy and then headed for the house.
Lizzy stayed where she was until Brittany disappeared inside and shut the door. Then she grabbed hold of Richard’s pointy finger and twisted it backward until he cried out and yanked his finger from her grasp.
“Your sister is a fucking nutcase!”
Cathy stormed to where Richard and Lizzy stood and wedged her way between them. “Don’t you dare cause a scene in front of our neighbors,” Cathy said to her ex-husband under her breath, her face red.
“She tried to break my finger and you’re going to take her side?”
“I’m not taking any sides,” Cathy said.
“Are you two back together?” Lizzy asked her sister.
“We’re dating again, taking it slow. That’s all.”
“What do you mean that’s all? I’m moving back in.” Richard looked down his nose at Lizzy. “She wasn’t ready to tell you because you tend to be judgmental and closed-minded.”
Lizzy looked at Cathy. “Is that true? Is that what you said?”
Cathy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Not exactly. I wasn’t ready to tell you yet because I knew you wouldn’t like it.”
“I don’t. He doesn’t deserve you, Cathy. He’s an asshole.”
Richard’s hands balled into fists at his sides as he came at her.
“What are you going to do, Richard, hit me?” Lizzy asked.
“You’re an insufferable bitch.”
Spittle hit her cheek, and Lizzy used her sleeve to wipe her face. She wanted nothing more than to dare him to make a move. Jared would be on his scrawny ass so fast he would find himself behind bars before the end of the day. But the look on Cathy’s face prevented Lizzy from provoking him. Richard’s face was a maze of angry lines, the cords of his neck swelling in anger. But the minute Cathy moved to his side, he managed to restrain himself from saying anything more.
“Could you give us a few minutes alone?” Cathy asked him. “You drove all this way to see your daughter. She’s in the house.”
Richard headed for the house, but he was not happy about being asked to leave.
“I don’t like that man.”
“Believe me, his feelings for you are mutual.”
A million responses begged to be put into words, but Lizzy gritted her teeth and kept quiet.
“I will tell you this,” Cathy said. “What you did today, taking Brittany driving on the freeway, was unacceptable.”
“Are you kidding me? Taking that abusive, disgusting man back into your life…that’s unacceptable.”
“How many times have we had this conversation? Why do you always have to push the limits?”
Lizzy stiffened. “Meaning?”
“We agreed that you would take Brittany driving every week, but never once did we talk about you taking her on the freeway.”
“You can’t expect her to get her license and then stay off—”
“You know what I mean. I would have taken her on the freeway myself.”
“When? You’re working full-time, and now that you’re dating that clown, you’re never home.”
Cathy sighed. “Brittany told you that?”
“She mentioned you two were seeing one another.”
“Does she know how you feel about Richard?”
“She’s a smart girl and it’s pretty obvious, but if you mean do I call him a clown or an asshole in front of her—no, I do not. That clown is her father. I have to respect that.”
“I was once married to the man.”
“It’s like a bad dream. It’s over now.”
Cathy sighed. “It wouldn’t hurt you to give me the same respect.”
Lizzy chuckled and headed for her car.
“What?”
“That’s so typical of you,” Lizzy said, “I’ve had to listen to you rant on about Jared Shayne and how much you despise him, and you don’t even know him. He’s never said a bad word about you. He treats me right. He doesn’t have a mistress hidden in every hotel in Sacramento. He’s a decent man. And yet I’m supposed to respect you enough to call that asshole in there a decent, respectable man.” Lizzy shook her head again. “I won’t do it. I love you, I really do, but I will never, for as long as I live, understand why you would take that man back.”
“I’m lonely.”
“What about that lawyer you were dating?”
“He met another woman and dropped me faster than you could say hot potato.”
Damn. “What about simply being single for a little while? What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m not like you, Lizzy.”
“I’m not the only woman in the world who was fine with being single for a while.”
“I don’t like being alone,” Cathy said. “I need a man in my life.”
“You don’t even love him, do you?”
“He’s my daughter’s father.”
“That’s not good enough,” Lizzy said. “You’re stronger than you think.” She was about to climb into her car when she glanced back at Cathy. “Don’t do it. For Brittany’s sake, don’t let him back into your lives. He’s selfish and verbally abusive. He doesn’t deserve either of you, and you know it.”
Sacramento
Thursday, May 17, 2012
He watched the stolen Toyota Tundra sink into the irrigation canal, which happened to be about 117 miles of prime dumping grounds. It wasn’t the first stolen vehicle to be dumped here and it wouldn’t be the last. He’d been dumping a lot of interesting things in the canal for years. He scratched his collarbone and headed for the thick underbrush where he’d left a bike, also stolen. He’d ride the bike to the nearest bus station, and then bus home to Sacramento.