for that matter. He hadn’t been in enough cop
cars to be sure, but that didn’t seem right. He shifted in his seat. “Where’s your police radio?”
Jenks shot Josh a look, then glanced at the space where Josh was staring, the place where the police radio should be. “It’s a new car—I only picked it up today.
It hasn’t been fitted yet. Anyway, we all use cell phones and beepers these days.”
Josh glanced over to the odometer. “The clock reads over three thousand miles. You’ve been busy for one day.”
Jenks hesitated. “It’s only new to the department.
The city can’t always afford new cars these days. Federal cuts to the city’s budget. Not enough tax dollars.”
“Oh, yeah,” Josh said suspiciously. “Those buttheads on Capitol Hill don’t know their ass from their elbow.”
Jenks blurted out a laugh. “Yeah, I like that.”
Where’s this guy taking me? Josh decided it was advisable to be aware of what was happening outside the
car as well as what was happening inside. They were still on 1-5 northbound heading toward downtown.
Josh shot a glance at Jenks’s waist. His sport jacket was splayed open and exposed his trim gut. He wore no shoulder holster and no gun was to be seen. Something cold and clammy crept up Josh’s spine with small
hard fingers. He had no idea who he was sitting next to, but he wasn’t law enforcement. Perspiration formed on Josh’s brow.
The Chevy peeled off 1-5 and traveled east on J
Street. Jenks threaded the car through the grid of streets that constructed the downtown district. The familiar and comfortingly populated blocks became increasingly desolate as they entered the partly derelict
and unused commercial areas scarred by the light rail lines.
They were a long way from police headquarters and this part of town had nothing to do with Margaret Macey or the Dixon job. Fear charged through Josh’s system.
“Could I call my wife on your phone?” Josh asked.
“I think she’ll be wondering where I am.”
“No. In a few moments our business will be complete.”
Josh
smelled it. The smell was the stink of his own
sweat in the air-conditioned chill of the car’s cabin.
Was Jenks aware of the manifestation of his fear? It didn’t matter how much he put up a strong defense, his body ratted him out. To Josh the odor was gathering momentum, so he squeezed his arms tight against his body. Disgustingly, the dampness spread further over his armpits and down his sides, soaking into dry shirt material.
Josh glanced at Jenks. If he wasn’t a cop, who was he?
James Mitchell’s partner? In retrospect, nothing made Jenks an officer of the law. He had the suspicion he was being taken to meet James Mitchell. He didn’t care to be around to find out whether he was right or not.
The Malibu slowed and came to a gentle stop at the intersection. Jenks surveyed the road, waiting for the sporadic traffic to clear. Josh took his chance. Simultaneously, he punched the safety belt release and yanked
on the door handle. The belt recoiled, making a
whizzing sound like a bottle rocket. The door lock clunked and the door opened. Josh made for the street.
A ratcheting click came from behind. Jenks produced a gun from God knows where and roughly stuck
it in Josh’s face. Josh felt the coldness of hard metal against his cheek. The smell of oil and burnt firecrackers filled his nose. He flicked his eyes to the black pistol jammed hard against his flesh. The weapon rubbed uncomfortably against his cheekbone and the gun felt as
heavy as it looked.
“Now, Mr. Michaels. Close the door and buckle up.
Our journey isn’t over—yet,” Jenks said without irritation, but there was a hardness to the word “yet” that
could crack diamonds.
Josh’s escape had amounted to a half-opened door
and one foot on the doorsill. He sat back in his seat and closed the door with Jenks’ gun muzzle pressed against his cheek. He fastened the seatbelt and Jenks drove across the intersection.
“No more thrills, Josh. I hope you don’t mind me
calling you Josh?”
Josh said nothing and stared straight ahead.
“Just so we understand each other.” Jenks shoved
the gun into Josh’s groin.
Josh winced at the intrusion.
“Move it and lose it,” Jenks snarled.
The car bounced over the light rail crossing onto cracked asphalt. A layer of rubble from a nearby demolition site coated the road. The pieces crackled
against the underside of the car as they bounced over another poorly covered, unused rail line. The gun muzzle bounced between Josh’s thighs. He gasped in fear of the weapon going off by accident.
Jenks heard the gasp, looked at Josh and laughed. “I suppose I should be careful with your valu-balls,” he said and laughed again.
Jenks made a left and drove the car down an alley between two vacant, whitewashed factories. The signs
were long since gone, giving anonymity to the last occupants.
The
car came to a halt behind a Dumpster. “Time
for business,” Jenks said. He pressed both of the seat belt releases and the belts whizzed back against the door pillars. “Get out.”
Jenks removed the semiautomatic from Josh’s crotch and both men climbed from the car. He motioned with the pistol for Josh to move. Josh moved ahead of the car with his head cocked over his shoulder at Jenks several feet behind.
A smile cracked across Jenks’s angular face. “I bet you have no idea what this is about, do you?”
Josh thought for a moment. “You’re right. To be
honest I haven’t a clue.”
“Well, I’m not going to explain it all, but you’re worth a lot of money to some people.”
What was this guy talking about? He wasn’t worth
anything to anyone. All he had was his life insurance and Kate and Abby were the beneficiaries. “Who?”
“That’s not important, but what is … is that you have to be dead for them to get it. Get it?”
Jenks came closer to Josh. Josh made tentative steps backward. Seeing Josh squirm, the killer smiled and holstered the gun in the back of his pants.
“But first you’ll have to be roughed up a little,” he said.
Josh stopped and stared beyond Jenks and the Malibu.
Slowly, a car rounded the corner into the alley.
Oh, my God, a witness, Josh thought. He was saved.
Jenks couldn’t try anything now. Not with someone else around. The tension drained from him.
The white Ford’s driver stamped on the gas and the car’s engine roared. The sedan accelerated under full power, tires spitting debris and kicking up plumes of dust in its wake.
The car wasn’t coming to save him. It was coming
straight for them.
Josh bolted. Without thought or plan he pounded
