***
Hunt snorted into wakefulness. The alarm on his wrist watch was chirping at him. He checked the time. It was 3 AM. He yawned, stretched and then scanned the backs of the houses in the subdivision. Not a single light was on. Clearly, nobody in the neighborhood suffered from insomnia. It was show time. He grabbed a pair of black leather gloves sitting on the passenger seat. When he lifted them up, he noticed a cell phone lying beneath. It was the tapped line that he used for calls to the preacher. Leroy made it a rule never to turn that phone on while he was conducting his private surveillance operation because whoever was monitoring his calls to old Abe might also be tracking his physical location. If Mr. Big’s flunkies were to pinpoint his coordinates a hundred feet from the farmhouse, all kinds of bells and whistles would go off. He stared at the phone with a sense of foreboding. The cowboy already knew whenever that phone had been shut off for long periods the preacher would find a reason to call him. He couldn’t help feeling that his wise precaution of staying off the grid was just about to jump up and bite him in the ass.
Leroy tried to dismiss the urge to listen to his messages. After all, he had big party plans for tonight and didn’t want to be distracted. On the other hand, the cowboy usually operated on instinct and that method had always served him well. As a tracker, he knew that good instincts spelled the difference between a dead animal and a live one. That rule applied to two-legged critters as well as four-legged ones. Try as he might, he couldn’t quell the impulse to check that phone right away.
Of course, he couldn’t power it on from this location. Swearing under his breath, he switched on the ignition and drove off. About ten miles down the road, he pulled into a gas station parking lot. That should be far enough away from the farmhouse so as not to attract Mr. Big’s attention. Leroy had already disabled the GPS tracking feature on his phone but whoever was dogging him could still triangulate a signal if he stayed on the line too long. He’d have to make this quick. He parked and switched the phone on. Sure enough, there were half a dozen voice mail messages waiting for him. The first one was time-stamped early that evening. It was businesslike. The preacher’s voice was cut and dried. “Mr. Hunt, please phone me immediately.” Click. By the time Leroy reached the sixth, he had to turn the volume down. It was time-stamped at 11 PM, and the old man was spitting brimstone. He wanted the cowboy to drop whatever he was doing and call back ASAP, no matter how late.
Leroy cursed his luck and switched the phone off again. Those calls needed to be answered but not from here. The cowboy’s only option was to drive back to his apartment in order to have his late-night chat with the preacher. He was already certain he knew the reason for all those messages. The old man wanted him to saddle up and hit the trail with Daniel, most likely at the crack of dawn.
If that was the case, then Leroy couldn’t afford to start something tonight that he couldn’t finish. If he went ahead and snuffed Hannah right now, the days after her unfortunate demise would be critical. He would need to hover at Abe’s elbow to maneuver him into the right frame of mind over his dearly-departed—to steer the preacher away from any suspicion of foul play. He couldn’t manage Abe from overseas, so it was either one thing or the other. Kill Hannah tonight or follow Daniel tomorrow. The competing ideas tussled inside his head for priority. He let out a frustrated growl, feeling as frazzled as a two-dollar whore on nickel night.
After some serious internal struggle, Leroy decided it was best to follow the money. His staged break-in would have to keep til he got back. He shrugged philosophically. After watching Hannah and the old lady go through their boring routine for two solid weeks, it was obvious nothing earth-shattering was going to happen before he returned. Muttering a final curse, he started his engine and drove back to the city to place his call.
Chapter 31—Crowning Moment
The airplane touched down smoothly and on schedule in Padang City. Immediately after they retrieved their luggage, Griffin, Cassie, and Elle took a taxi to their high-rise hotel in the downtown district.
The island on which the city sat had once been part of the Dutch West Indies. In modern times, Sumatra was a big draw for surfers who could find immense waves on the island’s western shore. As a result, tourism had become a major industry, and beach resorts weren’t hard to find. Though the 2009 earthquake had demolished many of the older inns, ultra-modern replacements quickly rose to take their place.
When the three arrived at their hotel, they checked in and separated briefly to unpack. After reconvening in the lobby, Elle led them outside to a waiting car.
“No taxi?” Cassie asked.
“It’s quite a distance out to the village, so I hired a car and driver for the afternoon. Get in,” she directed them.
Elle sat up front while the other two slid into the back. Once the doors
