Chapter 12
Jack
This is the third night we’ve spent watching, waiting for David Young to leave the damn compound. The film crew is in the van behind my SUV, mostly asleep. I get the feeling they’re ready to give up which is fine with me. I’m still not sure why I agreed to this shit-show.
I think it had something to do with a pair of sad, puppy-dog eyes and how Lucky and Suds just about wept for joy at the thought of some action.
Sure, I want to see that misogynist pay for the murder of Blakely’s sister but not by taking risks. It’d be better to let the FBI do the legwork with Patten Security as backup. Those guys are excellent at what they do and more than once, I’ve trusted them with my life.
“This is so boring.” Blakely leans against me.
“Hey, you were the one who insisted on trying to force his hand.” I could fix uninteresting real fast but first, I need to know where our relationship stands. I figure she’ll insist on a divorce but then what? Will she want to find out if we’re compatible beyond the bedroom?
Hour after hour, sitting in the dark, smelling her scent, all I can do is relive our last love-making and keeping my hands to myself is driving me crazy.
Before she made the stupid call to Young, I’m sure the authorities would’ve found some useful evidence. However, in one respect, Blakely was right. Cold cases are low priority, especially in a city where Mormons hate bad publicity.
Suddenly, a flashlight beam streaks across a building and I whisper into our comm unit. “We’re on.”
I turn to Blakely and remind her for about the hundredth time, “No getting out of the car, promise me.”
“Yes, yes, I promise, already.”
David’s car lights are off as he sneaks off the compound through the automatic iron gates. I reach over and pull Blakely down below the window but the man behind the wheel stares forward. When his car exits the block, I turn the key, and the rental SUV purrs. Slowly, I accelerate and follow. In the rearview, the van with the camera crew and my buddies follows.
“Suds? Lucky? You ready to take the lead?” I was surprised how well-prepared they came to Utah. Patten not only supplied them with night vision goggles but comm units, as well.
“Copy that.” Lucky’s voice crackles loud and clear in my right ear.
“Hold this.” I hand Blakely my phone with a map application lighting up her confused face.
When she turns her eyes to me, I glance off the road for a second. “It’s for trailing someone with two vehicles. It’ll take us on a parallel path.”
Tag teaming, Lucky and I follow David Young’s old station wagon onto the highway until we get to the reservation. Beside me, Blakely sits with fists gripping the dashboard and her foot pushing on an imaginary accelerator.
I reach over and tug her back into her seat. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping a fair distance on purpose. I won’t lose him.”
When I let go, she leans forward again, squinting into the darkness as we bump across a dirt road, descending further into the desert.
All my senses go on high alert when Young suddenly stops. Blake inhales sharply when he exits his vehicle and turns a full three -sixty. We both begin to breathe normally when it’s obvious we weren’t spotted.
In my night vision goggles, a green ghost-like figure walks up to an old, abandoned gas station where a rusty Coca-Cola sign hangs precariously. He passes where the pumps are long gone and the screen door squeaks on rusty hinges as it swings back into place.
Floor boards creak as he disappears inside. Only then, do Suds and Lucky jog up to my SUV. The cameraman’s red LED glows as he, too approaches.
“Stay put.” I get out of the car, growl at the Asian, and give my fiercest scowl at Blakely. She damn well better listen this time.
Guns out, we slowly approach the building and about half way, I hear her and Po behind us.
Dammit, the woman never listens.My heart races but it’s too late, now. I should’ve cuffed her to a bedpost in the safehouse.
For the first time, Lucky and Suds aren’t thrilled, either, and glance nervously over their shoulders. When she slips on a stone, the desert crickets pause, and I wonder if Young noticed from inside the building.
Suddenly, a bullet whizzes by my face, close enough to take off a whisker.
Thinking only of Blakley, I jump back and cover her with my body, praying she didn’t take a hit and not daring to ask for fear of giving our position away. Po, too, drops, and I pray he wasn’t hit.
“Drop the gun, Young. We got you surrounded.” Suds crawls forward on his stomach.
