Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Jefferson
Too bad I’m not wearing any pants, because that’s where I always keep a set of handcuffs, and, more importantly, a handcuff key.
But my dumb ass had to be gauche and wear a bathrobe downstairs.
I’m not that dumb, though, because I know from experience that a fluffy, draping bathrobe is excellent for preventing a car door from perfectly latching and engaging the central locking system.
I just hope I can safely roll out of here before the guys in the front seat notice the “open door” alert on the dash.
Fortunately for me, distracting Mark is easy to do, as I keep peppering him with questions.
“Where are we going, sport?”
“Shut up.”
“Is it far?”
“I said, shut up.”
“Aren’t you gonna read me my rights?”
“Shut the hell up before I pull over and beat the shit out of you.”
He’s taking the switchbacks faster than I would, and we end up having to swerve out of the way to an oncoming car. A very familiar-looking oncoming vehicle.
The big guy behind the wheel of a gleaming black 1969 Charger, with cherry red interior and custom panels, honks his horn as Mark drifts across the yellow stripe.
I have no idea why Joaquin is driving Sonja. I’ll have a million questions later, but at least I know he’s headed up the mountain to the lodge. Which means he probably got a call from my wife. I am equal parts relieved and pissed off. I need to be the one to protect her. Instead, I acted careless, and now this could be the end of me.
Calm. Must remain calm.
“How’d you guys find me, anyway?”
“Shut up.”
“You sure you want to go to all this trouble to harass me?”
The more questions I have, the more Mark is triggered, and the less he pays attention to the road. That last part is where I didn’t think this escape plan all the way through.
As we round a hairpin turn coming down the mountain, Mark turns to me and tells me one last time to shut the fuck up.
“Not very righteous language of you, Father Mark,” I say.
“It’s Elder!”
The other one shouts “Hey!” and lunges for the wheel.
The car swerves, crashing through a barricade. The deafening shearing of metal is only overpowered by the sudden, brain-rattling landing as the car comes to rest on a boulder.
A chorus of curses follows, letting me know no one was hurt.
Carefully, I peek over the edge. The car’s nose hangs over a gorge so treacherous, I might piss myself in terror.
“Well, it’s been real, fellas,” I say, easing the door open and leaning out.
The car teeters under the movement as I aim to step out.
Mark screams like a little girl. “Wait! Wait! You can’t get out! The car!”
The other one has gone silent, with his hand braced against the dash.
I’m considering my options. Step out and let the corrupt soon-to-be sheriff fall to his death, or wait for the cavalry, and my inevitable arrest for kidnapping, apparently. That is easy enough to worm my way out of since Georgie came with me willingly. But I know that in the end, this Mark guy will still come out squeaky clean somehow.
Apparently, they don’t know what to do any more than I do. Right now, these idiots are arguing over how to counterbalance the weight to keep us from plummeting to our deaths.
A familiar rumbling engine sounds behind us. A car door opens and closes.
I turn around to see the most beautiful sight of my life. Joaquin approaches as the Charger idles in park behind him in the road. He opens the trunk and takes out a tow strap.
The passenger car door opens, and an ashen-looking Georgie dashes out. “Jefferson!” My wife wants to run to me but then realization dawns on her face. Coming any closer to this cliffside is a very, very bad idea. She covers her mouth and tries not to scream.
“Georgie, I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
My wife covers her eyes as the car groans, and some rock gives way and tumbles down the cliff.
I could vomit. Everyone is freaking out except my best friend.
“She’s fine,” Joaquin barks, crouching down to attach the strap to the tow ring under Sonja’s front end. “Or she will be. I just needed to help her clean up her little mess.”
“What mess? What happened to her?!”
“Enough chitchat,” Joaquin says, grunting as he stands and makes his way over to the back of the cruiser. “Our new housemate is meeting us in an hour, and I don’t wanna be late.”
The cruiser’s nose tilts dangerously as I instinctively lurch forward, desperate to get out of this car and go to my wife. Mark and his companion curse as they uselessly punch at the protective bars, trying to get to the back seat.
I shout over the commotion, “You cannot be seriously thinking about using Sonja to tow this car!”
Meanwhile, the unflappable Joaquin smiles as he attaches the other end of the tow strap to the back of the cruiser. “Oh, ye of little faith. Would you rather wait an hour for a tow truck, or put your trust in yet more of the local law enforcement to get you out of this?”
“That’s not the point. The hook is for towing my car when she breaks down, not for pulling something in reverse! You’re gonna fuck up the front end, and…”
When finished, Joaquin wipes his hands and struts back to my car. “Brother, your priorities are fucked. I’m just trying to make sure no one else dies today.”
My stomach drops. “What do you mean, no one else?”
“I’m sorry,” Georgie mouths. “It’s all my fault.”
Perpetually unbothered, Joaquin’s laughter can be heard over the revving of the engine.
Boy, I can’t wait to hear the rest of this story.