Fatal Justice (Jack Lamburt #1)(26)

The only thing that stopped me was that he’d probably drive off the road and kill us all. Would’ve been funny as hell though.

After a few miles, the SUV slowed down to what I felt was a more appropriate speed, and I relaxed my death grip on my seat. I guessed that Skinny wanted to make sure no one was following, or that none of the savages from the Red Barn parking lot saw us turn off at Sawyer Hill Road. They might figure out they were staying at the Lakeview House and show up carrying pitchforks and torches.

He slowed the big SUV and turned off onto a back road, went a couple of hundred yards, and pulled over to the side.

I could hear him trying to catch his breath, to calm his nerves. He started with some feel-good affirmations but that didn’t last. In no time, he was cursing everyone, including “the guy who founded this shit-eating little town.” I liked our little town, and found his remarks offensive. He even stooped so low as to take the Lord’s name in vain. Again.

I’d heard enough. I shot him three times in the back.

I leaned over to the front seat and whacked Fatty in the forehead with my pistol butt, just to make sure he stayed out cold. Then I hopped out of the SUV, dragged Skinny Guy from the front seat, tossed him in the second row and slammed the door closed. I took out the sanitizer-soaked towels from my Ziploc bag and cleaned the blood off the seat, then stuck the towels back in the Ziploc bag and in my pocket. I hopped in the front seat and took the back roads to Eminence.

I started to relax, feeling good about how the events of the night had played out. Even with the help of HFS, I couldn’t have planned this any better. I’d tossed and turned for hours trying to figure out a way to get these two morons alone so that I could rid the earth of them, and all it had taken was a little finger probe from my new best friend Frances.

I vowed to always look back at her, smile and wink every time she grabbed my ass. In fact, I would go so far as to say that I promised the good Lord that I’d make additional trips to the men’s room, just so Frances had something to look forward to and could keep her skills sharp, even if I didn’t have to take a leak. Or I could just drink more beer, which would require more trips to the men’s room. I liked that idea better.

My iPhone vibrated in my pocket, breaking me out of my fantasy. It scared the bejesus out of me, and I jumped so high that my head hit the ceiling. I pulled it out of my pocket, totally disregarding the no-texting-while-driving law. That sealed it, now I was definitely going to hell.

I looked at the screen and saw that it was from Debbie. I pulled over to the side of the road and read her text.

Debbie: You okay?

Me: Sure, you? Of course I am

Debbie: Yeah. Exciting, huh?

Me: Yeah. You have no idea…

Debbie: Sorry about last night.

Me: That’s okay, me too. Even though I didn’t do anything wrong…

Debbie: Love to see you tonight. Can I come over?

Me: I don’t know, what did you have in mind? Blowjob?

Debbie: Making me beg, aren’t you? Okay, fine, maybe I deserve it. I want you naked on the bearskin with Barry White and some merlot. Then I’m going to ravish you all night. Pretty please?

Me: Hmm…thinking… thinking. Well, alright, I guess so. Hot damn freakin YEAH!

Debbie: I’ll text you when I leave.

Me: Roger. Can’t wait!

God that felt good. It’s amazing how good, and bad, a relationship can be for your mood. I was on cloud nine. Now I just had to get rid of Curly and Moe and I’d be back in good graces with my honey. I pulled the SUV out onto the road and raced towards Eminence.

It took me about half an hour to reach my property, then another twenty-five minutes on the tractor trail before reaching the well. I swung the big SUV wide, then backed up to the well. No use lugging these guys further than I had to. I turned off the vehicle, opened the door, and stepped out onto the grass. It felt good to get out of the SUV. Skinny Boy had shit his pants, so I had to drive the whole way with the freakin’ windows open and it was cold.

I kept myself busy by calculating the wind-chill factor at the different speeds that I was driving. As an FYI, at forty miles per hour it was fifteen degrees.

I took out my phone and turned the flashlight on. I found the well right away, and my heart stopped.

The stone that covered it was off center, and it didn’t line up with the indent in the surrounding soil that decades of gravity had created. I knew that I lined it up perfectly when I replaced it.

Holy shit.

That meant that Ostrich Boy had lived through the toss into the well, the bullets that I’d wasted on him, and the two big rocks that I’d thrown down after him. And climbed out! This was bad.

I moved the light around to look for tracks, but didn’t see any. He could be anywhere, even right behind me. I turned and searched the nearby shrubs with my flashlight, but I didn’t see him.

I had to work fast. I bent down and slid the stone all the way off. I dragged Skinny Guy from the backseat and, unable to control my anger, I smacked him in the face. Then I tossed him down the well. I opened the driver’s-side door and undid Fatty’s seat belt, then dragged him over to the well. Skinny was right, he weighed a freaking ton. I hoped he’d fit down the well and not get stuck halfway down. That could be awkward.

He started moving, and with Ostrich Boy running in the wild there was no time for pleasantries. I took out my Glock and shot him in the chest two times, then rolled him into the well before he had a chance to bleed all over the place. I know it was selfish of me, but I was so tired of cleaning up blood. I kicked the two empty shells in after him, the pleasant echo of brass tinkling off the rocks music to my ears.