“Fuck you,” Frank muttered.
Razor brought out a straight razor. “Last time. When did you last hear from her?”
“Last week,” Frank said.
Razor shot Cal a look and he held Frank by his shoulders.
Razor drew the edge of the blade along Frank’s hairline. “Liars get what they deserve where I’m from.” He looked at Punc. “Get the first aid kit.”
Punc grabbed the travel kit and opened it wide.
Razor jerked his chin toward the kit. “Open one of those sanitizing wipes for me.”
“What the hell? You never clean your blade. Why start now?” Tundra asked.
Razor grinned. “It’s not for me, man.”
Punc understood Razor’s plan and he dragged the alcohol wipe down the cut.
Frank hissed and jerked in Cal’s hold.
“Hurts, don’t it?” Razor asked.
“Fuck you,” Frank said through clenched teeth.
Razor shrugged. “Our lawyer could check on those records for us, and that might take hours. Gives me plenty of time to make you bleed.”
“Last year,” Frank said.
Razor aimed a skeptical look at Frank. “You sure? That means you heard from her last July.”
“Christmas,” Frank hissed.
Cal shook his head. “Still sounds like bullshit to me, but she won’t report him going missing. At least not any time soon.”
“Punc, if you want to cut this asshole, now’s the time, but remember not to get carried away. We can’t fuck up the next part of the plan,” Blood said.
Punc pulled out his knife and just kept himself from getting carried away.
“Goddamn, it’s dark out here,” Cal said.
“Not any darker than back at the shed,” Blood said.
“You aren’t tryin’ to drive in this shit,” Cal complained.
They were riding in Frank’s BMW heading west on US-90 toward MacClenny. Punc sat in the backseat with his gun aimed at an unconscious Frank who was slumped on the passengerside. He wished he was on his bike, but that wasn’t feasible. It was ten minutes after ten, and the sound of his bike’s pipes might attract attention.
“It’s been a while since Turk ran sports bets. Are we sure this isn’t some kind of trap?” Punc asked.
Blood turned in the passenger seat to look at Punc. “How pissed are you that your sweet Ava was stripping to pay that asshole?”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No, I asked the wrong question. Consider how muchmorepissed you’d be if you’d found out she was turning tricks to pay this asshole… what would you do for retribution then?”
“No disrespect, Blood, but I’m that fuckin’ pissed already. I’d rather not walk into some kind of fucked-up trap.”
In the dim moonlight shining into the sedan, he saw Blood’s expression turn serious. “Turk’s our brother. He’s not gonna give us bad intel and send us into a trap.”
