The Devil's Copper by Jamie Crothall (ink ebook reader .txt) 📕

to him gently.  I came up with a basic plan: stop at a local gas station near the shop, fill up on the corporate account, drive a few hours until we were clear of town, then have Jack call the main branch of the bank and work his magic to get our accounts active again.  Then we would hit the nearest casino down south and have Walter fill our coffers again so we could devise a more long-term plan.  I figured once we were well enough away from the Valley I’d pull over and pull Walter into the truck, but in the meantime, he’d have to hold on for dear life.  Then we’d get through the city, out the other end, and on to our freedom.

“I don’t mean to alarm you,” said Jack. “But that red truck looks like it’s following us.”

Oh shit, not again.

“Hold on Walter,” I called out.

Though I doubted he could hear me.  I pushed the truck as fast as it could, but the red truck behind us matched our speed.  Yeah, it was definitely following us.

“What are we going to do?” Jack asked.

“I have an idea,” I replied.  “We just need to make it to the city.”

***

I slowed when we hit the main highway, avoiding police attention as we fell in with the herd of normal traffic.  The red truck did the same.

“What time is it?” I asked.

Jack looked at his watch.  “It’s nearly one o’clock.”

“Perfect, nearly prayer time.”

“What?  Where?”

“At the mosque?”

“What?  How do you know that?”

“I’ve had to learn a few things since you’ve been gone.”

We continued into the city and made our way to the Donovan area.  I retraced the path Walter showed me, this time the parking lot of the mosque was more crowded.  I pulled into it, and parked close to the building.

The red truck wasn’t so hesitant this time. They pulled up right behind us.

Damn it. This wasn’t going to work the way I hoped.

I desperately tried to think of a Plan B.

A few men exited the mosque, apparently drawn by the sound of two heavy vehicles kicking up gravel.  I made eye contact with the imam who’d had the disagreement with Walter regarding his daughter.  He seemed to recognize me.  I hoped that would reduce our troubles, rather than add to them.  The imam eyed the red truck, then me again.  Noting my panicked look, he rallied a few of his friends together.

“Are we in trouble?” Jack asked.

“I’m…not sure.”

The imam’s men approached, but passed us by and gathered around the red truck instead.  There was an exchange, which turned to heated threats.

In the end, the red truck slowly backed away.  Counter-threats were issued, but ultimately our pursuers turned around and left the parking lot.  I jumped out of the truck, against Jack’s better judgement.

“Are you okay?” the imam asked.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to bring this to your doorstep.”  Jack rushed to my side and put his arm around me.  “We had no choice.”

The imam shook his head and waved away our apologies.  He looked us over without any expression whatsoever.

“Trouble finds those who are troubled,” he said.

With that, he ushered his men back inside.

“Thank you,” I called out as they left.

“Uh…Billie?” said Jack, looking into the back of the truck. “Where’s Walter?”

I looked around, but I couldn’t see him.  There was just the old sheet which somehow managed to avoid flying away in our haste.  He either fled the moment the truck stopped or he left before we even started.

“Shit.”  Another thought hit me. “How did they know?”

“Who?  Know what?”

“Someone called a bomb scare on that truck,” I said.  “That particular truck.”

Jack nodded. “How would they know Walter was in there?”

My heart sank.

“Pat!” I gasped.

TEN

“Look,” insisted Jack. “I know you don’t like it, but we should just leave.  We’re only going to make it worse.”

“I have to see if Pat’s okay,” I insisted.  “He’s just a kid!”

“This doesn’t have to be our problem.  This is our chance to get the hell out of here.”

I know he’d had a bad week as well, but this side of him wasn’t very becoming.  I ignored his protests.  I focused on the road, and the rear-view mirror, in case the red truck emerged again.  Eventually he stopped protesting.

When we arrived in the industrial park, it was quiet.  When we reached the shop, I was disappointed to see most of the trucks gone.  It wasn’t unusual for this time of day, especially this time of year, but I would have preferred having a lot of those big, burly drivers around for a change.  I parked as close to the office as I could, and ran for the door.  Jack was protesting caution, but I was too eager to ensure Pat didn’t get caught up in our mess.

I threw open the door and saw Frankie standing in front of my desk.  Off to the left was Shay, standing diligently behind Pat, who sat quietly at his desk.  The phone was ringing, but he wasn’t answering it.  Between Frankie and Shay, were the two crooked cops.

“Well, the gang’s all here, isn’t it?” Frankie said.  “Well, almost all.  Where’s Walter?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I had him but he took off,” I insisted.

“I fucking hate loose ends,” he spat.  “This is a major inconvenience.”  He looked to Shay.  “Right, kill them then, like we talked about.”

Shay raised his gun and pointed it at us.

“Wait, no!” I gasped.

He fired two shots.

Both Jack and I clenched our eyes shut.

When I didn’t feel anything, I opened them.

Pat was still alive.

Jack was still alive.

The two officers, however, were heaped upon the ground.