The Getaway Car

by Leddy Harper

  Sitting behind the steering wheel, the keys still in my hand, I tapped on his name until the ringing consumed the cab. It went on for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have possibly been that long; Jarrod had probably been waiting for my call.

  “Where are you?” he asked instead of a greeting when he picked up.

  I hadn’t really been part of the shop in the past few months after getting out of jail, so it was odd that he would wonder where I was if I wasn’t there. They were all used to me coming and going as I pleased, and as far as I could tell, it didn’t bother anyone. “Getting ready to leave Billings. Why?”

  “What are you doing over there?”

  “What the hell, Jarrod? I came to see Maggie. What else would I be doing in Billings?”

  “Did she tell you anything?” The anguish in his tone kept me from starting the engine. It kept me from leaving the parking lot, getting on the road, and heading home. The only thing I could do was sit there on the phone until he told me what had him wound so tight.

  I was lost, not having a clue why he asked so many questions about where I was or what I was doing. And the longer this went on, the more impatient I became. “Kinda. I’m not sure how much it helped. If anything, what she told me makes it worse. The fucker who attacked her is still alive.”

  Just saying it out loud was like a stab in the heart. I couldn’t believe she’d lied about this—let alone refused to give me the truth. I wanted to believe she was innocent, but I couldn’t grasp why she wouldn’t just give me answers or why she cared if this asshole lived or died.

  “I know.” An emotion I couldn’t place hung in Jarrod’s voice. It resembled sorrow, yet at the same time, rang with sympathy. And as I replayed it in my head, I couldn’t understand what it all meant…the words, the tone, the convoluted emotion.

  “What do you mean?” I demanded.

  “I was able to get into the phone.” And then silence. He dropped that bomb and then went quiet, as if it answered everything and left no more questions to be asked.

  “Get the fuck on with it, Jarrod. What was on it?”

  He cleared his throat, and that’s when I heard a door close. He must’ve walked into the office, which would explain his short answers and lack of details in his responses. “You need to step back, man. I understand you have hard feelings for this girl, but you need to put some space between you two.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means you don’t have the half of it.”

  “Then tell me what I’m missing.” My jaw clenched until my teeth ached.

  “Are you aware that she was friends with Jinx?”

  “Yeah…she told me today. She was dating him.”

  “Well, I can’t confirm that. They talked a lot, so it’s possible; although, based on their conversations, I wouldn’t have immediately guessed they were intimate.”

  “They weren’t,” I gritted out. “I don’t know their story—just that they weren’t sleeping together. Is that what you’re trying to warn me about? Well, I don’t have time for this. Did you find the messages from the other guy or not? She told me there were two—Jinx, and whoever he peddled drugs for. That’s the bastard who hurt her.”

  “Listen to me, Talon. I’m not telling you to back away because she dated Jinx. If she explained that part of the story, then great. It’s the other part you don’t need to get wrapped up in. You’ll never win.”

  “I don’t need to win. I just need the motherfucker dead.”

  “You don’t get it. He’s not some troubled kid or a product of a broken home. He’s a force much stronger than you realize. You can’t take him down, and honestly, I doubt you could kill him. If you did…you’re looking at the end of your life.”

  “Stop speaking in riddles before I hang up and drive all the way over there and beat the answers out of you.” It wasn’t an idle threat. I didn’t care if Jarrod was my friend; I wouldn’t allow him to keep something this important from me. I doubted there was anything I wouldn’t do to keep Maggie safe.

  “Think about it, Talon. Just stop for one second and think. If Jinx was at Baker’s house, that means he was running with that crew. He was working for the Shadowman. Have you ever stopped to wonder why so many people call him that?”

  There was no need to question it, because it wasn’t much of a secret. He managed to control an entire drug operation without ever getting caught. Anytime one of his roaches wound up in an interrogation room or pulled over with a supply in their car, nothing ever came of it. He had shit on the guys who worked for him, their families, their lives—anything and everything—and he used it in his favor. Everyone said he was like a shadow, always there watching your every move.

  “You think I’m scared of some pussy who can’t get his own hands dirty?”

  Jarrod’s barked laughter caught me off guard. “You’re serious right now? Not get his hands dirty? What the hell do you think happens to the morons who threaten his existence? You know as well as I do how many kids have gone missing over the years. Just vanished. And you think he had someone else take care of that?”

  He was right. Once someone made it into his circle…they never made it out. Some, like Jinx, were found dead, but at least those guys were given a funeral. They were the lucky ones—the cops didn’t always solve the cases like they had with Jinx. The others just went missing, and since none of them really had any family, anyone to report it, they were considered runaways. Without a body or reasonable cause to suspect foul play, there was no use in wasting taxpayer money on an investigation that would likely go nowhere.

  “I don’t give a shit right now, Jarrod. If you found out who he is, then tell me.”

  “You’re not getting it. Just stop for one second and think about what I’m telling you. Think about what information you have. He’s been doing this for years. No one has been able to come close to catching him, like he’s always one step ahead of the law. Kids go missing or wind up dead, and nothing is ever done about it. Take two fucking seconds and think…why wouldn’t someone just go to the cops?”

  My thoughts were jumbled, and it took far too long to unknot the information. Suspecting the Shadowman was in law enforcement wasn’t a new concept. Everyone had their own theories, and that was a common one amongst almost everyone in town. The only problem was, there was no way to prove it. Apparently, an internal investigation was done, and nothing ever came of it.

  “You think I’m that easily scared? Let a cop come after Jess and then tell me—” I choked on my own words as the entire puzzle fell into place. Jarrod had tried to get me to see it, but I hadn’t been able to join both pieces. And once I did, I couldn’t ignore the obvious signs from the very beginning.

  “Now you see? You can’t kill him, Talon. There’s no evidence to substantiate your claim, and there’s no telling how many other cops are involved. You can’t do anything without proof, so even going to the authorities won’t do any good.”

  “So I’m supposed to do nothing? I’m supposed to walk away from her because her uncle is a criminal and a cop? That doesn’t work for me, Jarrod. I can’t do that, and you know it. Suggesting it is a fucking waste of your time.”

  He sighed, and when he spoke again, his voice was low, almost defeated. “I didn’t figure you would, even if it’s the smartest option.”

  “Could you walk away from Jess?”

  Silence.

  “That’s what I thought.” I’d never understand why people gave advice they’d never take if the tables were turned. “He needs to pay, man. I’ve gotta do something to keep Maggie safe.” And then I realized what day it was. “Shit. She’s supposed to go to his house tonight for dinner.”

  Suddenly, more of the picture came into focus. She owed her uncle…for college, and had to give him part of her paycheck every week. The only way to get her out safely was to run away with her, and even then, there was a chance he’d find her—like he had before.

  I needed more information, somethin
g clear-cut that I could use to take him down.

  “Can you send me the texts? The ones from her uncle?” I could’ve gone to the shop to get the phone, but that would mean leaving Maggie alone, and I wasn’t prepared to do that just yet.

  “I will under one condition…if you decide to do anything about it, you must hand it over to the authorities. Got it?”

  “You just got done saying that’s not an option. Now you’re asking me to basically walk into the lion’s den? Hell no.”

  “Talon, listen. I know a guy. He works for the county, and I trust him. He’s not involved…but the only way to make anything stick, is if you have something against him. If you can get Maggie to tell you something, to give you anything substantial, then there’s a chance of it working. These texts and a hunch won’t do shit.”

  I couldn’t involve Maggie more than I already had, but he was right. If I could get anything on him, something that couldn’t be doubted or blamed on another living soul, then I could take him down and protect her.

  “Fine. Deal. Now send me the texts.”

  The line went dead, and a few seconds later, a picture came through with the messages from Maggie’s old phone.

  You have something of mine, and I want it back.

  Don’t think you can hide from me, princess.

  I hope you enjoyed your stay in Mississippi, because it’s about to end.

  The cops will be there in about thirty seconds.

  The last message soured my stomach. That must’ve been the one she’d received while we were at the bar, the one that made her run. All this had been because of that one text, and it did nothing other than escalate the rage burning inside.

  Jarrod was right—there was nothing incriminating in the messages. He could’ve said she’d taken off with his sunglasses, and that was what he’d referred to in his text. That was the problem with written communication…the tone was left to the reader.

  These wouldn’t do anything to build a case against the captain of the sheriff’s office.

  I would need more.

  I sat in the driver’s seat, practically bent over the steering wheel while I racked my brain for anything I could’ve used to pin this on her uncle. I recalled the events of that night—Jinx and his paranoid outbursts. About how he kept saying “he” would kill him. He’d mentioned Lake Cuomo, and as useful as that tip could be…there was no way I could convince them to drain the lake and look for bodies.

  Which left me with two choices: go after him myself or do nothing.

  I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing, so that wasn’t an option.

  Taking matters into my own hands gave me the best chances of protecting Maggie, but even then, nothing was guaranteed. If I didn’t succeed, I would’ve only put her in harm’s way. If I did…I’d never get to see her again. On one hand, as long as she was safe, I would be all right. But on the other, saving her from one demon didn’t mean another wouldn’t find her later, and by that point, my fate would be sealed. I wouldn’t be able to be there for her if she needed me. It was a gamble, a risk of epic proportions, yet I didn’t see any other way around it.

  “If he can run his own flesh and blood off a bridge and not think twice, he won’t bat an eye for someone like me.” At the time, I had no idea what Jinx was talking about; I’d assumed he was delusional from whatever drug—or combination of drugs—he was on. Now, it made more sense than I wished it would. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach when it dawned on me—Maggie’s mom had been missing for years, and the only person who had any contact with her was Maggie’s uncle.

  His own flesh and blood.

  It wasn’t his child…but his sister.

  I pushed the door open and leaned out, my stomach clenching in anticipation of throwing up. Because it didn’t just end there. If my assumptions were right, that meant she would’ve died long before Maggie’s grandfather—her mom didn’t own the house.

  The morning we’d left Florida, Maggie had mentioned a duffel bag in one of the bedroom closets, and when I’d gone to check it out, I’d found bricks of cocaine along with several handguns. At the time, I figured they belonged to the man who visited once a month—Mr. Falkner. We were on our way out, so I hadn’t felt the need to do anything about it.

  Now, it was just one more piece of the puzzle.

  It was at that point, I realized I couldn’t get the rest without Maggie.

  Slowly, I climbed out of the truck and headed up to the apartment. I didn’t knock, just twisted the knob and walked in. As if my heart hadn’t already taken a beating over the last twenty minutes since I showed up here to ask about the stretch marks, it shattered when I found Maggie on the floor in the hallway—exactly where I’d left her on my way out. I went to her and held her in my arms, finally able to breathe. And once my strength returned, I picked her up and carried her to the couch.

  With her arms around my neck, face buried in my shoulder, and chest pressed against mine, she sat in my lap while we both calmed down. I ran my fingers through her hair and held her tight, unable to lessen my grip for fear she’d disappear.

  After minutes of only silence, she pulled her head away just enough to press her cheek against mine. With her mouth close to my ear, she whispered, “I thought you left.”

  My arm around her waist grew tighter. “I was going to…but I need something from you.”

  “I can’t tell you, Talon. I wish I could…I just can’t.”

  “I already know.”

  Her body grew stiff, and I was pretty sure she stopped breathing. “W-what?”

  “Your uncle’s the one behind the drugs, the money. He’s the one who came after you. You don’t have to lie for him anymore.”

  She didn’t say anything for so long that I almost wondered if she’d passed out. Then she pulled in a deep breath and relaxed her arms until only her hands remained on my shoulders. “What are you going to do to him?”

  “Not sure. That all depends on what you tell me. I could let the authorities handle it, or I could take care of him myself. I can’t turn him in if I only have circumstantial shit on him. Which means if you don’t tell me anything, I won’t be able to choose that option.” I wasn’t trying to blackmail her, just make sure she understood the choices. Whether she gave me what I needed or not was up to her, and if she didn’t want me taking a wrench to her uncle’s skull, she would need to give me something.

  “W-what do you need from me?” It was clear as day she was hesitant to tell me anything.

  But that didn’t stop me. “Are you sure the house in Florida was left to your mom?”

  She nodded.

  “How? Like have you seen the deed? Seen paperwork? Anything?”

  Maggie pulled her face away a little more, which gave me an unobstructed view of her downcast eyes. “I asked him about it, because I thought maybe she had moved to Florida. He told me he helped the estate lawyer facilitate the paperwork because my mom refused to go down there and deal with it. So no, I’ve never seen proof. Why would he lie about that?”

  She should’ve guessed any one of the many reasons her uncle had to mislead her. Regardless, it just proved how innocent and naïve she was—which only added fuel to my already blazing fire.

  “Your uncle’s name is Dan—or Danny—right?”

  Her eyes found mine and a shallow line of confusion dipped between her brows. “Yeah. I call him Danny because that’s what I’ve called him since I was a kid, but most others call him Dan or Captain Culberson. Why?”

  Well, shit. That didn’t help. I could’ve sworn the neighbor in Florida had used a different name. “Does Falkner ring a bell? Sound familiar in any way? Maybe you’ve heard someone say it, use it, seen it on anything?”

  The crease deepened, and then spread along her forehead. “That was my grandmother’s maiden name.”

  “Your grandmother from Florida?”

  She shook her head. Curiosity and determination washed away the weak confusion that had been painted on her face. “
No. Those were my dad’s parents. My mom’s side of the family was all from Iowa.”

  “Just so I understand…your uncle’s mom’s maiden name was Falkner?”

  “Yeah.” She narrowed her gaze. “Why, Talon? Where did you hear that? And why all the questions about my family?”

  I threaded my fingers through the front parts of her hair and held her head between my palms. “I’ve asked this before, but since I’m lost on what was the truth and what was to keep me from finding out the truth, I have to ask again. Do you know where your mom is?”

  Realization flashed in her eyes. Maggie certainly wasn’t stupid. However, a split second later, denial set in, and the slight rigidness of fear vanished. “No. I don’t. Last I heard, she was in California—that was over three years ago. That’s where she was when Uncle Danny helped her with the estate.”

  There was no way she believed that to be true, especially after all she’d learned about him. Although, I couldn’t blame her for it. It was her mom, not some stranger or distant relative. Holding out hope that she was alive and well didn’t make her a bad person. It didn’t mean she was gullible or easily fooled. It made her a survivor—trusting whatever she had to if it meant making it another day without falling apart.

  There was just one problem…I didn’t have enough time to look into any of this. Yes, there were ways to validate her uncle’s claim; I just didn’t have the resources to get that done before Maggie was supposed to leave for dinner.

  Refusing to admit defeat, I pressed my forehead to hers and asked, “What would happen if you didn’t show up tonight?”

  “He’ll come here—either tonight or tomorrow. The last time that happened was the day you showed up at the diner. I was distraught after leaving and fell asleep early. He came by the next morning, shortly before you got here. He took my entire paycheck and left me with nothing for the week.”

  I fisted her hair when I recalled walking into her apartment that morning and finding her on the floor. I’d been so angry with her, so closed off to my feelings, that I had refused to let the sight of her in tears affect me. Now, I hated myself for it.