'You guys check the place out, I'm going to run over to SoCo and pick up a few things. What kind of pizza do you like, Jessie?'
'Pepperoni and Italian sausage.'
'Frankie?'
'Same.'
'I'll be back in a few hours.'
By eleven that night, they had eaten pizza, drunk a few beers, and prepared everything for the next morning. Jessie had fallen asleep in a recliner. Frankie and Andy were on the couch, watching a movie on the TV: The Way We Were with Robert Redford. He was handsome. Frankie had rested her head against Andy's chest. He had his arm around her.
'Andy, what if we killed them instead?'
'I don't think we could. They're professionals. But even if we could, they'll just send someone else. You're right-they'll never stop coming for her. It's the only way.'
TWENTY-FIVE
Andy turned his cell phone on.
'Are you sure about this?' Frankie said.
'No. But we've got no choice.'
It was eight the next morning. They were in the vacant parking lot of the Barton Creek Square Mall on the Capital of Texas Highway, also known as Loop 360, on the southwest side of Austin. The greenbelt was just across the highway. But that Sunday morning Andy Prescott wasn't bombing the Hill of Life on a mountain bike. He had a different kind of adrenaline rush in mind that day.
'Go.'
Frankie flicked her cigarette to the ground and hugged Jessie then jumped into the passenger's seat of Tres' Beemer.
'Good luck, Andy,' Tres said.
They drove off. Andy watched as they veered onto Loop 360 heading north, then he popped the top on a can of Red Bull.
'What's that?' Jessie asked.
'Rocket fuel.'
'Doesn't that have lots of caffeine?'
'It'd better.'
'That's bad for your health.'
'Two guys shooting at me is bad for my health.'
He downed the Red Bull then faced Jessie.
'You ready?'
'I'm scared, Andy.'
'Me, too.'
He gave her shoulder a little squeeze.
'Undo your hair.'
She removed the clip in the back and shook her hair loose. It hung to her shoulders and lay on the black jacket he had bought for her the day before.
'I wish my hair were still that long,' Andy said.
'Why?'
'The Samson theory.'
The black sedan entered the far end of the parking lot.
Harmon was riding shotgun. He spotted the big black motorcycle across the vacant parking lot. Prescott was kneeling beside it; the girl was standing next to the bike. He had engine problems. Harmon said into the cell phone, 'We got him, boss. I'll call you when it's done.'
He ended the call and released the safety on the Glock.
'Pull up next to them, Cecil. I'll pop her and we can be back on the highway before she hits the ground.'
Cecil accelerated the Crown Vic across the black asphalt. Harmon lowered his window, but Prescott spotted them and jumped up. He straddled the motorcycle; the girl jumped on behind him. They sped off.
'Damn, he got it going. Don't lose them, Cecil.'
The motorcycle exited the parking lot and accelerated onto Loop 360 heading north. The girl's red hair stood straight out behind her as they flew across Scottish Woods Drive. Cecil pointed to an undeveloped treed area on his left.
'That's the Barton Creek Greenbelt. Must've named it after the mall. Eight hundred acres. Got a creek with trails and waterfalls. It's supposed to be really neat.'
'Maybe you should bring Harriet here for a vacation.'
'But then I couldn't get a hooker.'
'Life is full of dilemmas, Cecil.'
They were only a few car lengths back of the motorcycle, but Harmon had no chance of hitting the girl at that speed. Fortunately, traffic was light that early on a Sunday morning; there were more cyclists in the bike lane than cars on the highway. They crossed Lost Creek Boulevard; the valley to the east offered a big view of downtown Austin in the distance.
'Wow, look at that,' Cecil said.
'Look at the road.'
But Harmon had to admit it: Austin was a pretty place. Paradise compared to Jersey. Might be a nice place to retire to, although he kept a map with black dots at every city where he'd killed someone so he'd know if he were returning to the scene of an unsolved murder or murders. After today, it might be best to retire somewhere else.
'Stoplight up ahead,' Cecil said.
'On a highway?'
Traffic slowed to a stop at an intersection called Bee Caves Road. But the motorcycle didn't. Prescott swerved into the bike lane, drove around the stopped vehicles, and ran the red light.
'He's good.'
'Don't lose them, Cecil.'
The motorcycle was slowing down. Prescott was leaning over, driving with one hand and fiddling with the engine with the other.
'He's got engine problems.'
But when the light turned green, the motorcycle sped off again.
'Did.'
'We still got him.'
They followed the motorcycle past the Wild Basin Wilderness Preserve off to their right.
'Seven women founded that place thirty years ago,' Cecil said. 'They wanted to save a piece of the wilderness.'
As if Harmon gave a shit.
'Drive.'
The road turned up then down and left then right. Walls of white limestone rose on either side.
'All this land used to be a sea, millions of years ago,' Cecil said. 'Hence, the limestone.'
' Hence? ' Harmon looked at his driver. 'Hence, Cecil?'
'I read it in that book about Austin last night.'
'I thought you were watching Sex and the City reruns?'
'I was reading and watching TV. I can do two things at the same time, Harmon.'
'Really? Well, do two things now: shut up and drive.'
