I got the impression he was. So where was James? Had someone gotten him before he made it into the bar?
“Why’re you so hot to see Knox?” he asked with a short laugh. “You honestly think he’s got him? Trust me, Knox just wants him dead.”
I didn’t want to think about that possibility right now. “Fine, let’s move on to part two: where’s the shipment coming in tonight?”
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he said in a smug tone.
“That’s a load of bullshit,” I said, holding up the gun a little higher. “Try again.”
He laughed. “What? You plannin’ to shoot me while I’m drivin’?”
“Yeah,” I said, watching him carefully. I wouldn’t put it past him to grab the gun or hit me like he had the guy in the bar. “I will if necessary.”
“I call bullshit,” he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. He’d just barely started to reach his right hand toward me when I pointed the gun at his left thigh and pulled the trigger.
The gun blast was deafening, muffling his shout of pain and anger. A dark stain began to spread across his upper thigh.
“You fuckin’ shot me!” he shouted, turning toward me, disbelief on his face.
The truck drifted toward the center line, and he snapped his eyes back onto the road, white-knuckling the steering wheel.
“Reach for me again and I’ll give you another one. Now keep driving.”
“You stupid bitch!” he shouted.
“Where’s the shipment coming in?” I repeated, my ears still ringing.
“How the hell would I know?” he screamed, pressing a hand to his left thigh.
“You expect me to believe you won’t be part of it?”
“Lady, I don’t work for Knox!”
I didn’t buy it. He seemed to know what I was talking about. When I’d asked, he hadn’t asked what the shipment was. He’d just claimed to not know any details.
“Why do you care about the shipment?” he spat.
“Don’t worry about that. You worry about bleeding to death or getting a matching hole in your other leg. Where and when is the shipment coming in?”
He slowly shook his head. “If I tell you that, I’m as good as dead.”
“So tell me where Gerald Knox is.”
“I don’t know! Knox keeps his home a secret.”
“Then who gives you orders or assignments?”
“No one gives me orders,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You’re bleeding quite a lot,” I said nonchalantly, pointing my gun to the spreading stain on his jeans. “Maybe you should tell me something I want to know so you can get that looked at.”
“I can’t go to a hospital!” he shouted.
“Then you’re in a world of shit,” I mused. “If you don’t give me something useful, I might get impatient.”
He glanced at me again, hate filling his eyes. “Knox wants you.”
“So I’ve heard,” I said. “But talk is cheap and I have no idea how to find him. Maybe you should take me to someone who does know.”
