“Here we go, she’s on the move.” At a safe distance, they followed her onto Highway 99 heading south. After three miles or so, she used her turn signal and exited the highway at a convenience-store gas station. Screened by mature eucalyptus trees, they stopped on the exit ramp. The driver watched through field glasses as Amber pulled into the gas station’s parking lot and climbed out. She walked over to a pay phone on the side of the building and stood there, as if waiting for a call. Like a bad actress trying to look impatient, she kept glancing at her watch every few seconds. The agent on the passenger side pointed a clear, sixteen-inch parabolic mike at Sheldon’s location and donned a headset.
“She’s waiting for a call,” the driver said.
“Yep.”
Somewhat irritated, the driver asked, “You ever say anything other than
“Nope.”
“Funny. Real funny.”
“What the hell?” the driver said. He watched Amber Sheldon reach up to her head and pull off a blond wig, exposing dark-brown hair. She held it high in the air and waved it like a flag. “Shit. We’ve been had. That’s not Amber Sheldon, it’s her daughter.”
Would the real Amber Sheldon please stand up? Driving her supervisor’s car, she grinned as she pulled into the McDonald’s driveway seven miles north of Pete’s Truck Palace. Her smile faded as she realized this trick only worked once. She kept telling herself she was doing it for Janey, but she had plans for McBride’s fifty grand. Even if she never got the million-dollar reward for Leonard and Ernie, McBride’s money wasn’t peanuts. Had it not been for Janey, she would’ve told Nathan McBride and his FBI pals to stuff it. With a little luck, this would all be over tonight and she believed in her heart she was doing the right thing. When the pay phone rang, she quickly picked up the receiver.
“Ernie?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Thanks a lot for everything. My life’s turned to shit.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Janey?”
“I can’t believe you’re asking me that! Were you a part of my life? Were you ever going to be? You never gave a shit about me, it was always about
“I had a right to know.”
“You disappeared after you got out of prison. I can count on one hand the number of times you called to ask how I was.”
“You’re the one who called it off.”
“Can you blame me? Yeah, I guess you can. Nothing is ever your fault, right? It’s always my fault. I made you get behind the wheel that night. I made you resist arrest. Pull your head outta your ass and take a look in the mirror.”
“You gotta lot of nerve talking to me like that. You think I can’t get to you?”
“I’m not afraid of you anymore. It’s you who should be afraid.”
He laughed. “Afraid of what? The FBI? You?”
“Of Nathan McBride.”
There was silence on the other end for several seconds. “How do you know that name?”
“He stopped by and we had a little chat about you.”
There was venom in his voice. “What did you tell him?”
“What do you think? I told him you’re a piece of shit.”
“That cocksucker killed Sammy.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Sammy!” Ernie screamed. “You know, my little brother?”
Amber froze, suddenly understanding why Nathan McBride had insisted she use his name. She’d been used again. Anger flared. “Well, he didn’t tell me that. Must have slipped his mind.”
“He’s a dead man.”
“Yeah.” She laughed bitterly as she put it together. “He set me up. They set me up. That whole press- conference thing, the question about Janey. It was all staged. Total bullshit.”
“And you were dumb enough to buy it?”
“I needed the money.”
“What money?”
“McBride offered me money to do the press conference.”
“How much?”
“Ten thousand,” she lied.
On the other end, Ernie chuckled. “Ten thousand.”
“It’s a lot of money. I’m not exactly swimming in greenbacks, Ern.”
“It’s peanuts.”
“Peanuts? Who do you think you are, Donald Trump?”
“Shit, I could give you ten times that much. In cash.”
“There’s no such thing as a free lunch. What do you want?”
“I want to torture Nathan McBride to death.”
“Well, good luck with that. I wouldn’t mess with him. That’s what he wants. In fact, I’m supposed to call him after I talk with you. He gave me his cell number.”
“Give it to me.”
“It’s your funeral.” She pulled the cocktail napkin from her jeans and read the number. “I’m sure he’d love to hear from you. Now, good-bye.”
“Wait, here’s what you’re going to do.”
“Screw that. I ain’t doing shit for you anymore.”
Ernie was silent for a moment. Amber knew she should hang up, but didn’t.
“I’m serious about the money,” Ernie said. “Leonard and me are buggin’ out. We don’t have much time. If you want the dough, here’s what you’re gonna do.”
“I don’t want your money. It’s dirty.”
“It’s not for you, it’s for Janey.”
“Yeah, right, like you care.”
“This can go one of two ways. The first, you and Janey can live happily ever after. The second, you don’t.”
“Don’t threaten me.”
“Oh, it’s not a threat, sweet Amber, it’s a promise and you know I’ll make good on it. What does this asshole look like?”
Amber gave him Nathan’s description. “I wouldn’t mess with him if I were you.”
“Yeah, right. Now shut up and listen. Here’s what you’re going say to McBride.”
Nathan couldn’t formulate a plan to collar Ernie until after Amber called, if she called at all. Until he knew Ernie had taken the bait, all he could do was wait. Nathan hated waiting. It grated on his nerves like a headache. As a sniper team, he and Harv had been masters at waiting, often for days at a time until their mark materialized, but this felt different.
He knew Harv preferred to stay busy during downtime. Currently, Harv had all their equipment laid out on the hotel room’s bed, checking and double-checking everything. He’d broken down their Sig Sauers and thoroughly cleaned and oiled their actions. He’d replaced the batteries in their night-vision scopes, RF detector, handheld thermal imagers, and radios. He then used a lens cloth to clean their field glasses. Although it wasn’t necessary, Harv pulled their Predator knives and checked sharpness. He applied a fine coat of gun oil on their menacing surfaces and sheathed them with more force than needed.
Nathan just stared.
“What?” Harv asked.
