Minutes to Kill (Scarlet Falls #2)(83)

Mick rubbed his shoulder. The seat belt had done a number on him. “How did you know where I was?”

“News report.” Sam held up a different prepaid smartphone than he’d been using before. “I destroyed the old phone in case the cops got into yours.” He rooted in a bag on the bench seat between them and pulled out another phone, which he handed to Mick. “I stole the van and waited down the road. On TV, they showed you being driven away.”

Mick shoved the new phone in his pocket. “Did you know that old dude we snatched was a cop?”

Sam nodded.

“What did you do with him?”

“I got him stashed where we spent the night. Nobody’s gonna find him.” Sam got out of the van.

They’d parked in an isolated spot overnight. It wasn’t the first time they’d slept in the car, but it had been damned cold. They’d had to start the car engine every hour.

Mick followed his brother. His whole body hurt.

Sam opened the driver’s door of the Charger. He reached in and pulled out a plastic bag. He tossed it to Mick. “Here. Change your clothes. There’s a razor in there, too. Your picture was all over the news.”

Shivering, Mick stripped off his jeans and T-shirt and tugged on the cheap khakis and blue polo shirt. Appearance aside, he was glad to don the fleece jacket. “I look like an idiot.”

“You look like you want to sell me a data plan. Now shut up and shave.” Sam tossed him a bottle of water.

Mick used the water and shaving cream to remove his goatee. He nicked himself multiple times in the cold.

Sam squinted at him. “I don’t think it’s enough.”

“Turn on the dome light.” Tilting the side mirror out, Mick lathered his head and shaved it bald. The night air froze his bare scalp.

“Better,” Sam said. “Do you still want the blond?” His eyes shone as if he was hoping Mick said yes.

“More than ever.” Anger surged in Mick’s chest. She’d defied him. She’d beaten him. She needed to suffer. He wanted her on her knees and begging. He’d never thought she would best him. How did a woman take him out twice? “She needs to pay.”

“All right, but then we’re wiping out all the loose ends here and heading south. Imagine how much money we’ll make when we don’t have to share our take with someone like Mr. K.”

“We’re going to make a killing.”

“Fucking A.” Sam grinned. “I have a plan.”

“Have to find the woman first. She was with that cop at the police station.” Mick rubbed his oddly smooth head in frustration. The cop’s body language with the lawyer was all possessive. He’d keep her close.

“I know.” Sam grinned. “I GPSed his car.”

“You did what?”

Sam shrugged. “Was easy. It was getting dark, and there were so many reporters and cameramen wandering around the parking lot, I just walked right through the crowd and slid it under the fender. Dressed like this”—he gestured toward his torso—“nobody looked at me twice.”

He opened an app on his phone. “Look. Here they are.” Handing the phone to Mick, Sam hurried to the driver’s door. “There’s gonna be a press conference over here.” He pointed to another point on the map. “I’ll bet that’s where they’re headed. I scoped out a few excellent places along the route for an ambush. Let’s go get her.”

Mick shivered in the leather seat. Was that a snowflake? Fuck. This. State. “We could just run. Forget about the woman. Forget about the cop. Head somewhere warm.”

“Hell, no.” Sam’s black eyes snapped. “You want the blond, and I want her, too. You promised. I broke you out of jail! You can’t go back on your word.”

Sam in a rage was way more dangerous than the police. The only way to calm him down was to give him what he wanted.

“You’re right. I promised.” Mick took the device and got into the passenger seat. He buckled up. The crash had given him new appreciation for seat belts. A small green dot moved on a map. “The GPS was ballsy.”

“You think that’s ballsy? Wait till you hear the rest of my plan.” Sam patted the duffel bag at his side. “Go ahead. Take a look.”

Mick unzipped the bag. “Holy fuck. We drove across the country with that in the car?”

Sam shrugged. “It’s not dangerous until it’s detonated.”



In the passenger seat of the unmarked car, Hannah rubbed her hand on her denim-clad thigh as Brody ended his call. “That was Detective Douglas in Vegas. Mick Arnette’s prints match the one set of prints they found in your rental car. Mick has never been arrested in Nevada, and he isn’t in the national fingerprint database either. They’re going to check out the address on his license. They’ll let me know what they find.”

Would they find Jewel?

“Douglas did say that they have a criminal record for Sam Arnette. According to Douglas, Sam is one nasty SOB. He was dishonorably discharged from the army. Douglas doesn’t know why. Vegas police arrested him for armed robbery, but the sole witness mysteriously disappeared, so he was never convicted. Douglas is sending me a picture of Sam.” His phone buzzed. He swiped the screen with his thumb and handed it to Hannah.