The way he said it sent a shiver down my back. “Take it slow,” I said as Jack turned off where Angelo indicated. “No need to let them know we’re coming.”
“You want to drive, Flynn?”
“Sure. Pull over.”
He laughed. “You know what, I borrowed this tank for a reason. Let’s do a little off-road, what do you say?”
Angelo thought for a moment. “Dust?”
“There’s dust enough on the road as it is, and only one road in, like you said. At least off-road we might surprise them.”
“Bax?” Angelo didn’t glance over his shoulder at me, but it warmed my belly to have him seek my opinion.
“May as well,” I said.
Jack immediately steered the car off the road and into the dirt and scrub. I bounced around like a pinball in the back as we drove directly toward the destination indicated on the GPS, but I had to admit, it was fun.
“Goddamnit’s good to get out of LA,” Jack shouted over the noise of the bumping car. “You guys miss New York?”
“Not so much,” I shouted back, before I could think about how that might sound to Angelo.
But he didn’t seem concerned. “Not very welcoming to us right now,” he agreed. “But it’s a good place to do business.”
“I bet it is,” Jack said. He was concentrating hard on the way ahead, but he did glance at me again in the mirror. “You heading back there after you get your man?”
Angelo said nothing.
“I guess that depends,” I said after a slightly awkward pause.
“On what?” Jack slowed right down as we came very close to our target. It was just over the next rise in the ground, or should be, judging by the GPS.
“On whether we end up getting this guy or not,” Angelo said as we crested the rise. “And right now, the odds aren’t looking good.”
We’d all seen it. The stiff figure lying there under a scrubby bush. It wasn’t moving. Even from this distance I could tell that whoever it was, they were dead.
“Shit,” I murmured, even as Angelo was scanning the horizon.
“Careful,” he said to Jack. “Could be a trap.”
It could have been a trap Jack had set for us himself. But the look on his face, all enjoyment gone now, suggested he was as surprised as we were. “Where the hell is the car?” he said, almost to himself, as he slowed the Jeep down to a crawl. We came to a halt a few yards away from the body.
“Keep the engine running,” Angelo said, opening his car door slowly. He checked the perimeter before getting out.
“This ain’t my first rodeo,” Jack said, but he said it after Angelo had gotten out. He twisted in his seat. “That your guy lying dead there?”
“Not sure.”
“You gonna get out and check?”
“After you,” I said as politely as I could.
A slow smile crossed his face. “You think I might be a bad guy, Baxter Flynn?” He grinned wider. “You’re right. I am. But I’m not planning on taking you two out. Wouldn’t try going up against the Monster of the Morellis, that’s for sure. And you? You look like you could pound me into the sand here, right up to my chin, and leave me for the bugs to enjoy.”
“Damn straight,” I said, and then paused. “Bugs…” I murmured, as I looked at the GPS, still telling us we had arrived at our destination. I looked right at him. “Your tracker.”
He caught my meaning. “Well, shit.”
We both got out of the car. Angelo was still watching carefully, turning here and there, but the place was so flat except for the rise we’d come over ourselves that there seemed to be no hiding places possible, unless they’d dug in a bunker.
