Running Hot by Jacob long (the lemonade war series .txt) 📕
Excerpt from the book:
The police only needed one more thing to make their treachery complete-a patsy. They expected an average guy, what they got, was the genius, master criminal, Reed Newton. The loner would have walked away in an instant, but the cries of their innocent victim held him fast. Now they will all pay.
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- Author: Jacob long
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her.
Angela sat on the hood of the jet black Plymouth Barracuda and immediately jumped off; realizing how hot it was. “Damn it! Why does it have to suck here?”
“Angela don’t swear,” Devlin said.
“What do you care if I swear?” Angela asked in outrage.
“Reed told me to tell you not to,” Devlin immediately fessed up.
“What?” she shrieked. “Reed told you to censor me? That’s sick!”
Devlin merely shrugged. “Oh, and don’t start smoking either because I’ll take the cigarette right out of your mouth.”
Angela’s mouth gaped.
Officer Hutchison was staring out the window with his bullet-wounded shoulder covered by a large bandage. He didn’t bother to take injury leave because he wanted to make sure all of his boss’ plans were executed correctly. He saw the car and didn’t think anything of it at first but suddenly remembered what Reed was talking about on the phone when he picked him up.
“Sergeant!” Hutchison called.
Nitch shot him an irritated look. “What?”
“When I picked up that Newton guy, he said that a black Hemi Cuda convertible would stop by the police station. I think that’s it!” Hutchison pointed out the window.
Nitch hauled himself out from behind his desk and peeked out. After a long while he said, “Alright; let’s check it out.”
Nitch and Hutchison walked downstairs and went out to the parking lot. Angela and Devlin saw them coming and shot each other worried glances.
Devlin moseyed over to Angela nonchalantly and whispered in her ear. “We need to stall them until Reed gets here.”
Angela nodded.
Nitch waved to them pleasantly. “Hey there! Is this your car?”
Devlin shook his head. “No, this is…my friend’s car.”
Nitch nodded. “It’s cool. Could you give me a tour? Do ya know anything about it?”
Devlin smiled a big, goofy smile. “Do I know anything about it?” he repeated. “Hell yeah I know about it! I only practically made it from scratch with my own two hands!”
“Well alright. Show me around!” Nitch laughed casually.
Devlin leaned into the car and popped the hood. It opened and slowly eased into its upright position. Nitch took one look inside and whistled. Every part inside was shiny, brand new, and well oiled.
Devlin took out a piece of gum and tossed it into his mouth. Pointing directly to the engine, he started the tour he wanted to do since he conceived his “masterpiece.”
“Check this out; Ray Barton “B2” limited edition 572 HEMI engine, aluminum 4.500 bore block, aluminum headed intake and exhaust valves; hand finished by yours truly.”
“Nice,” Nitch nodded. “Then these aren’t stock parts I take it?”
“No way,” Devlin said. “You won’t find a Barracuda this high tech anywhere. Look, modified carburetors, custom forged pistons, steel race rods, and a custom magnesium intake manifold. This car has the output of a classic Cuda, but the fuel efficiency of a much more modern ride.”
“Do you have nitrous oxide in this beast?” Nitch asked.
Devlin scoffed, “No…ha ha ha!” He began laughing hysterically at the very notion. “With the torque this thing is already putting out, if you used Nos it would tear itself apart. You’d have to make it out of titanium just to not get yourself killed!”
Nitch held his hands up in mock defense. “Hey, my mistake! You sure do know a lot about cars.”
“Oh yeah,” Devlin smiled. “And all that stuff I mentioned is just the engine. The transmission is a T-56 ‘Tranzilla’ 1200 horsepower system, the tank is an 18 gallon NASCAR style fuel cell and the fuel line is stainless steel…”
Angela sat in the passenger seat and pretended to listen to what Devlin had to say as if she had any idea what he was talking about. Nitch didn’t seem suspicious of them but Hutchison wouldn’t take his eyes off her. She shifted nervously in the seat and decided to start fooling around in the glove box.
Laurel was changing in her room with Reed standing diligently outside the door. After combing her hair, Laurel took off her pink robe and tossed it onto a chair in front of her mirror. She slipped off her night gown; leaving her in only her white cotton panties, and then took a blue blouse and jeans out of her closet. When she moved back to the mirror she took a second to gaze at herself.
“I’m pretty right?” she asked herself. After another moment of consideration, she laughed at her conceit and began pulling on her jeans.
Reed was just cleaning his fingernails with his bottom canine teeth when he heard the distinct sound of a car pulling into the driveway of the house. Reed leaned over the banister for a look—and sure enough, he saw the hood and headlights of a car that wasn’t in the driveway before. Soon there was the sound of a car door opening and closing.
Reed had to move quickly. He quietly opened the door and moved across the room into the open closet; closing the door just enough to leave a crack. Even Laurel was not to know where he was, lest she give away his position.
Just as Laurel slipped her second arm into its sleeve, Greenwich came into the room with his gun drawn. “Freeze lady!”
Laurel screamed and pulled her blouse closed.
“You’re in big trouble Mrs. Jacobs,” Greenwich said. “You’re coming with me....where’s the other guy, Reed?”
“Well if you didn’t see him on the stairs then he probably already knows that you’re here.” Laurel answered.
“He ran, then?”
Laurel couldn’t help but scoff at his conceit.
Suddenly Reed burst out of the closet and grabbed the gun. Greenwich’s finger squeezed the trigger and a bullet smashed into Laurel’s mirror. Laurel screamed and ran to a corner. There she crouched down and tried to make herself as small as possible.
Greenwich and Reed strained against each other for control of the gun; both with long grunts of stress escaping their lips. Greenwich was by far the stronger man and soon Reed couldn’t hold any longer. Greenwich threw Reed against Laurel’s dresser and quickly aimed to fire. Reed ducked and the bullet seared another hole in the mirror sitting on top of it. Reed tackled into Greenwich and pushed him out the door. They met the stairs and tumbled down. The edges of the individual steps dug into Reed’s back, then his head, then his shoulder; and then back again. Finally they landed at the bottom of the steps and rolled apart from each other. Each of them were sporting some fresh wounds that stopped the struggle momentarily.
Reed quickly rubbed a sore spot on his shoulder; then rolled over and socked Greenwich across the face. They both stood and Greenwich fired a quick shot into Reed’s nose. Reed’s neck snapped back but his nose still cracked, and blood began to drizzle out. Reed reciprocated by cupping his fist and ramming his elbow into Greenwich’s stomach. Greenwich swung his fist up and hit Reed squarely in the face. Reed’s blood streaked across the back of his hand. Reed stumbled backward into a wall and wiped his bleeding nose. Greenwich lunged at Reed with his big fist pulled back and fired it at him. Reed ducked and Greenwich’s fist crashed into the wall. The weakened material crumbled under the pressure and his fist went right through. Reed took this opportunity to punch Greenwich in the stomach and then across his face. Greenwich yanked his arm out of the wall and used the momentum to swing a backhand at Reed’s head. Reed ducked, hooked him in the stomach and brought his foot up; stomping once more on his gut. Greenwich staggered backward, arms wrapped around the area.
Reed wiped his nose and swung at Greenwich with his right hand. Greenwich released his stomach and caught the fist. He tried to punch Reed with his own right hand, but Reed caught that. With more creative plan of attack, they pushed up against each other in a juvenile match of strength, their torsos butting and their biceps straining. Reed strength slowly started to fail. Reed was losing! The thought struck his mind but he honestly didn’t want to give an inch to save himself.
With the two red-meat-eating men gone, Laurel stood up and buttoned her blouse. She ran to get downstairs to escape, but as she was passing the bed the floor gave way. The entire area around the bed, including the bed, fell to the floor below and Laurel went along with a short scream of terror.
Reed finally decided that it wasn’t worth it trying to match muscles with this guy. He kicked Greenwich in the stomach again; effectively pushing them apart. Greenwich turned, pushed off the wall and came charging back at Reed with full force. Suddenly the ceiling caved in from the fire damage and fell on top of him. A bed and a few hundred pounds of wood crushed him under their immense weight. Laurel came rolling off the pile of rubble and stopped at Reed’s feet.
Reed raised an eyebrow. Being lucky sure didn’t hurt.
“Good job, Laurel,” he said; helping her to her feet.
Laurel looked at the foot sticking out from under the rubble and said, “It was an accident.”
Reed shrugged. “That’s okay. Well, let’s get moving to the hospital; he won’t go unmissed for long.”
Laurel nodded in agreement; but suddenly Reed’s watch started beeping. Reed stopped and looked at it. It read exactly 1:00 pm.
“On second thought,” Reed said, “we need to go to the police station.”
“What? Why would we do that?” Laurel asked.
“I need to pick up my car,” Reed said flatly; moving for the front door.
Laurel chased him, “What? We can’t just go back to the police station for your stupid car!”
Reed was walking out the front door but suddenly turned around to face her. “First of all: it’s not a stupid car! And second: my mechanic is with it! There’s no guarantee that they won’t just hold him there if they recognize my car! I need to get him too!”
Reed’s sudden, uncharacteristic show of humanitarianism surprised her. She blinked a few times and forced out an, “Oh.”
Reed sort of shook his head in dismissal of the moment and continued out toward the cop car. He opened the driver’s side door and peeked in briefly; then, uttering a curse word, he sat in the seat and ducked under the dashboard.
“What are you doing?” Laurel asked after a few moments.
“Starting the car by alternative means,” Reed said gently.
“Hotwiring it,” Laurel laid it out.
“Yes.”
“And why do you know how to do that?” Laurel asked.
Suddenly the vehicle’s V8 engine roared to life. Reed pressed down on the accelerator a few times to make sure it stayed running.
He got out and drew himself erect. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Reed. before I get in this car I need you to answer me something;” Laurel said, “are you some sort of killer?”
Reed was silent for a while; just searching her face. Finally he answered, “No, I’m a thief; please get in the car.”
Laurel looked at him for another moment and moved to the passenger side.
6)
“All units in pursuit of an early model Plymouth Barracuda…”
Hutchison was getting tired of Sergeant Nitch. He thought that Nitch was using the tour as an excuse to search the car; but now it seemed to him that Nitch was genuinely engrossed in the design of the piece of crap. Devlin was even now explaining the suspension system and Hutchison was through.
“Alright; enough of this nonsense!” he exploded. “We’re going to search your car!”
Devlin scoffed; not taken aback at all. “You got a warrant?”
“We don’t need a warrant!” Hutchison lied. “This vehicle is parked on government
Angela sat on the hood of the jet black Plymouth Barracuda and immediately jumped off; realizing how hot it was. “Damn it! Why does it have to suck here?”
“Angela don’t swear,” Devlin said.
“What do you care if I swear?” Angela asked in outrage.
“Reed told me to tell you not to,” Devlin immediately fessed up.
“What?” she shrieked. “Reed told you to censor me? That’s sick!”
Devlin merely shrugged. “Oh, and don’t start smoking either because I’ll take the cigarette right out of your mouth.”
Angela’s mouth gaped.
Officer Hutchison was staring out the window with his bullet-wounded shoulder covered by a large bandage. He didn’t bother to take injury leave because he wanted to make sure all of his boss’ plans were executed correctly. He saw the car and didn’t think anything of it at first but suddenly remembered what Reed was talking about on the phone when he picked him up.
“Sergeant!” Hutchison called.
Nitch shot him an irritated look. “What?”
“When I picked up that Newton guy, he said that a black Hemi Cuda convertible would stop by the police station. I think that’s it!” Hutchison pointed out the window.
Nitch hauled himself out from behind his desk and peeked out. After a long while he said, “Alright; let’s check it out.”
Nitch and Hutchison walked downstairs and went out to the parking lot. Angela and Devlin saw them coming and shot each other worried glances.
Devlin moseyed over to Angela nonchalantly and whispered in her ear. “We need to stall them until Reed gets here.”
Angela nodded.
Nitch waved to them pleasantly. “Hey there! Is this your car?”
Devlin shook his head. “No, this is…my friend’s car.”
Nitch nodded. “It’s cool. Could you give me a tour? Do ya know anything about it?”
Devlin smiled a big, goofy smile. “Do I know anything about it?” he repeated. “Hell yeah I know about it! I only practically made it from scratch with my own two hands!”
“Well alright. Show me around!” Nitch laughed casually.
Devlin leaned into the car and popped the hood. It opened and slowly eased into its upright position. Nitch took one look inside and whistled. Every part inside was shiny, brand new, and well oiled.
Devlin took out a piece of gum and tossed it into his mouth. Pointing directly to the engine, he started the tour he wanted to do since he conceived his “masterpiece.”
“Check this out; Ray Barton “B2” limited edition 572 HEMI engine, aluminum 4.500 bore block, aluminum headed intake and exhaust valves; hand finished by yours truly.”
“Nice,” Nitch nodded. “Then these aren’t stock parts I take it?”
“No way,” Devlin said. “You won’t find a Barracuda this high tech anywhere. Look, modified carburetors, custom forged pistons, steel race rods, and a custom magnesium intake manifold. This car has the output of a classic Cuda, but the fuel efficiency of a much more modern ride.”
“Do you have nitrous oxide in this beast?” Nitch asked.
Devlin scoffed, “No…ha ha ha!” He began laughing hysterically at the very notion. “With the torque this thing is already putting out, if you used Nos it would tear itself apart. You’d have to make it out of titanium just to not get yourself killed!”
Nitch held his hands up in mock defense. “Hey, my mistake! You sure do know a lot about cars.”
“Oh yeah,” Devlin smiled. “And all that stuff I mentioned is just the engine. The transmission is a T-56 ‘Tranzilla’ 1200 horsepower system, the tank is an 18 gallon NASCAR style fuel cell and the fuel line is stainless steel…”
Angela sat in the passenger seat and pretended to listen to what Devlin had to say as if she had any idea what he was talking about. Nitch didn’t seem suspicious of them but Hutchison wouldn’t take his eyes off her. She shifted nervously in the seat and decided to start fooling around in the glove box.
Laurel was changing in her room with Reed standing diligently outside the door. After combing her hair, Laurel took off her pink robe and tossed it onto a chair in front of her mirror. She slipped off her night gown; leaving her in only her white cotton panties, and then took a blue blouse and jeans out of her closet. When she moved back to the mirror she took a second to gaze at herself.
“I’m pretty right?” she asked herself. After another moment of consideration, she laughed at her conceit and began pulling on her jeans.
Reed was just cleaning his fingernails with his bottom canine teeth when he heard the distinct sound of a car pulling into the driveway of the house. Reed leaned over the banister for a look—and sure enough, he saw the hood and headlights of a car that wasn’t in the driveway before. Soon there was the sound of a car door opening and closing.
Reed had to move quickly. He quietly opened the door and moved across the room into the open closet; closing the door just enough to leave a crack. Even Laurel was not to know where he was, lest she give away his position.
Just as Laurel slipped her second arm into its sleeve, Greenwich came into the room with his gun drawn. “Freeze lady!”
Laurel screamed and pulled her blouse closed.
“You’re in big trouble Mrs. Jacobs,” Greenwich said. “You’re coming with me....where’s the other guy, Reed?”
“Well if you didn’t see him on the stairs then he probably already knows that you’re here.” Laurel answered.
“He ran, then?”
Laurel couldn’t help but scoff at his conceit.
Suddenly Reed burst out of the closet and grabbed the gun. Greenwich’s finger squeezed the trigger and a bullet smashed into Laurel’s mirror. Laurel screamed and ran to a corner. There she crouched down and tried to make herself as small as possible.
Greenwich and Reed strained against each other for control of the gun; both with long grunts of stress escaping their lips. Greenwich was by far the stronger man and soon Reed couldn’t hold any longer. Greenwich threw Reed against Laurel’s dresser and quickly aimed to fire. Reed ducked and the bullet seared another hole in the mirror sitting on top of it. Reed tackled into Greenwich and pushed him out the door. They met the stairs and tumbled down. The edges of the individual steps dug into Reed’s back, then his head, then his shoulder; and then back again. Finally they landed at the bottom of the steps and rolled apart from each other. Each of them were sporting some fresh wounds that stopped the struggle momentarily.
Reed quickly rubbed a sore spot on his shoulder; then rolled over and socked Greenwich across the face. They both stood and Greenwich fired a quick shot into Reed’s nose. Reed’s neck snapped back but his nose still cracked, and blood began to drizzle out. Reed reciprocated by cupping his fist and ramming his elbow into Greenwich’s stomach. Greenwich swung his fist up and hit Reed squarely in the face. Reed’s blood streaked across the back of his hand. Reed stumbled backward into a wall and wiped his bleeding nose. Greenwich lunged at Reed with his big fist pulled back and fired it at him. Reed ducked and Greenwich’s fist crashed into the wall. The weakened material crumbled under the pressure and his fist went right through. Reed took this opportunity to punch Greenwich in the stomach and then across his face. Greenwich yanked his arm out of the wall and used the momentum to swing a backhand at Reed’s head. Reed ducked, hooked him in the stomach and brought his foot up; stomping once more on his gut. Greenwich staggered backward, arms wrapped around the area.
Reed wiped his nose and swung at Greenwich with his right hand. Greenwich released his stomach and caught the fist. He tried to punch Reed with his own right hand, but Reed caught that. With more creative plan of attack, they pushed up against each other in a juvenile match of strength, their torsos butting and their biceps straining. Reed strength slowly started to fail. Reed was losing! The thought struck his mind but he honestly didn’t want to give an inch to save himself.
With the two red-meat-eating men gone, Laurel stood up and buttoned her blouse. She ran to get downstairs to escape, but as she was passing the bed the floor gave way. The entire area around the bed, including the bed, fell to the floor below and Laurel went along with a short scream of terror.
Reed finally decided that it wasn’t worth it trying to match muscles with this guy. He kicked Greenwich in the stomach again; effectively pushing them apart. Greenwich turned, pushed off the wall and came charging back at Reed with full force. Suddenly the ceiling caved in from the fire damage and fell on top of him. A bed and a few hundred pounds of wood crushed him under their immense weight. Laurel came rolling off the pile of rubble and stopped at Reed’s feet.
Reed raised an eyebrow. Being lucky sure didn’t hurt.
“Good job, Laurel,” he said; helping her to her feet.
Laurel looked at the foot sticking out from under the rubble and said, “It was an accident.”
Reed shrugged. “That’s okay. Well, let’s get moving to the hospital; he won’t go unmissed for long.”
Laurel nodded in agreement; but suddenly Reed’s watch started beeping. Reed stopped and looked at it. It read exactly 1:00 pm.
“On second thought,” Reed said, “we need to go to the police station.”
“What? Why would we do that?” Laurel asked.
“I need to pick up my car,” Reed said flatly; moving for the front door.
Laurel chased him, “What? We can’t just go back to the police station for your stupid car!”
Reed was walking out the front door but suddenly turned around to face her. “First of all: it’s not a stupid car! And second: my mechanic is with it! There’s no guarantee that they won’t just hold him there if they recognize my car! I need to get him too!”
Reed’s sudden, uncharacteristic show of humanitarianism surprised her. She blinked a few times and forced out an, “Oh.”
Reed sort of shook his head in dismissal of the moment and continued out toward the cop car. He opened the driver’s side door and peeked in briefly; then, uttering a curse word, he sat in the seat and ducked under the dashboard.
“What are you doing?” Laurel asked after a few moments.
“Starting the car by alternative means,” Reed said gently.
“Hotwiring it,” Laurel laid it out.
“Yes.”
“And why do you know how to do that?” Laurel asked.
Suddenly the vehicle’s V8 engine roared to life. Reed pressed down on the accelerator a few times to make sure it stayed running.
He got out and drew himself erect. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Reed. before I get in this car I need you to answer me something;” Laurel said, “are you some sort of killer?”
Reed was silent for a while; just searching her face. Finally he answered, “No, I’m a thief; please get in the car.”
Laurel looked at him for another moment and moved to the passenger side.
6)
“All units in pursuit of an early model Plymouth Barracuda…”
Hutchison was getting tired of Sergeant Nitch. He thought that Nitch was using the tour as an excuse to search the car; but now it seemed to him that Nitch was genuinely engrossed in the design of the piece of crap. Devlin was even now explaining the suspension system and Hutchison was through.
“Alright; enough of this nonsense!” he exploded. “We’re going to search your car!”
Devlin scoffed; not taken aback at all. “You got a warrant?”
“We don’t need a warrant!” Hutchison lied. “This vehicle is parked on government
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