“Thirsty?” she asked.
He nodded.
“If you scream…” She pressed the gun to his forehead, as if to finish the sentence.
She reached behind his neck, loosened the knot, and pulled the gag free. She offered him a cup of water, which he drank eagerly. When he finished, he stretched his mouth open to shake off the effects of the gag, then winced. The mere use of any facial muscles was a painful reminder of the bruise above his eye.
“Damn, girl. Where’d you learn to kick like that?”
“Where’d you get those tattoos?”
He looked confused, then seemed to understand. “You served time?”
“I think of it that way.”
“What for?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Just curious.”
The creaking noise resumed overhead, the steady squeak of the bed in the room above them. Katrina glanced at the ceiling, then shot Theo a look that required no elaboration.
“You were a hooker?” he said.
“No. I refused to be one.”
“They put you in jail because you
“It’s not that simple.”
“Just explain to them that things have gotten out of hand. Someone wants you to hit me or they’re gonna hit you.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I go to the police and tell them the fix I’m in, they’ll pull me from the assignment.”
“Exactly. Problem solved.”
“You just don’t understand.” Her gaze drifted across the room, then settled on the brownish-red spot of dried blood on the carpet. “There’s an old Russian proverb,” she said vaguely. “’Revenge is the sweetest form of passion.’”
“What does that have to do with calling the police?”
“If they pull me off the job now, I stifle my own passion.”
He looked straight at her, seeming to understand that somewhere behind those troubled brown eyes was an old score to settle.
“I’m good at revenge. Maybe I could help.”
“This is something I have to do myself.”
He nodded, then gave a little tug that rattled the chains of his handcuffs. “Funny.”
“What?”
“When I was fifteen, I used to have this fantasy about being kidnapped by a Latina babe.”
“Not exactly living up to the dream, is it?”
“Nope.”
“Hate to break this to you, pal. Life never does.” She stuffed the gag back in his mouth and cinched up the knot behind his head.
60
•
Jack went from Theo’s to Sparky’s. It was getting late, but the crowd had found its collective second wind. Loud country music was cranking on the sound system, and a group of Garth Brooks wannabes were twirling their women across the dance floor.
Like most dives, Sparky’s was the kind of place where liquor flowed freely but everything else came at a price. All day long, theories about Theo’s disappearance had been bouncing off the walls. For twenty bucks the barmaid steered Jack in the most promising direction.
“Buy you a drink?” said Jack as he sidled up to the bar.
A skinny guy with weathered skin looked up from his glass and said, “You queer?”
“No, sorry. But I have a couple friends who are, if you’re interested.”
He popped up from his barstool. “Watch your mouth, jackass.”
“Easy, friend. Just a little joke.”
“I don’t think you’re so funny.”
Jack took a moment. Usually he tried to befriend people before bullying them into divulging information, but this guy was too much of a jerk to waste time schmoozing.
“You’re a truck driver, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“That’s your rig parked out back?”
“What’s it to you?”
“I hear you sell drugs out of it.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not a cop.”
“I don’t sell nothin’ to nobody. Just drive my truck, that’s all.”
“Well, I hear differently. So let me spell this out for you. Theo Knight left this joint around two o’clock this morning. Nobody’s seen him since. His partner tells me the cops have been here asking questions. I hear you’re the only one around here who seems to have any idea what might have happened to him.”
“I didn’t tell the cops nothin’.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. That’s because you were out cutting a deal in your truck when you saw what you saw.”
He smiled nervously. “You heard that, huh?”
“From a good source. So, you want to tell me what caught your eye? Or should I call my old boss at the U.S. attorney’s office and tell him to get a search warrant for your rig?”
The trucker swirled the ice cubes around in his glass, sipped the last few drops of bourbon. “Tough guy, are you?”
“Just a man with a mission.”
He checked the door, as if it were some big secret, then glanced back and said, “Your friend Theo left with some chick.”
“Who?”
“A brunette. Black clothes, nice body. Could have been Latina. She was hanging around his car out back in the parking lot, then she got in. He came out about twenty minutes later, and they drove off together. That’s all I saw.”
“Did they seem friendly together, were they arguing, or what?”
“I didn’t see them together. His Jetta has dark tinted windows, so I couldn’t see inside. Like I say, I saw her get in, then a little later he gets in. I don’t know if she was smoking a joint in there or what. She waited for him, then they left. That’s it.”
“Anything else you remember?”
“Yeah. The bumper sticker. It said,
Definitely Theo’s car, thought Jack. “That’s all I need to know. Thanks.”
Jack climbed off the barstool and headed out the door to the parking lot, leaving the loud music and stale odors
