Bad Move (Zack Walker Series, Book One)

"Let's pay 'em a visit," Earl said, turning the pickup in to the sales office lot. The gravel crunched under the truck's tires. Suddenly, I felt overwhelmed. My breathing grew quicker and shallower.

 

"Earl, I don't know if I can do this," I said. "I gotta be honest with you. I'm scared. I'm out of my league. These clowns kill people to get what they want."

 

Earl gave me a gentle punch in the shoulder. "Don't worry, pardner. The ones who should be scared are these asswipes." He nodded toward the office. "We're gonna get the jump on them."

 

I swallowed, hard, took a deep breath, and opened the truck door. We strode toward the office, shoulder to shoulder, Earl holding his gun down at his right side. Three sets of handcuffs, which Trixie had run across the street to fetch before we left Earl's, jingled in my jacket pocket. Trixie had decided against giving me the fur-lined ones for Greenway, since it would be a dead giveaway where we'd gotten our restraining devices. She claimed not to have much use for him, but didn't see any advantage in advertising her disregard. I couldn't argue with that.

 

Earl, between puffs, suggested we circle the building once. Peeking through blinds, we saw Greenway behind his desk, lecturing a sheepish Carpington sitting across from him. All the other rooms were dark, indicating to us that we had only two people to deal with.

 

"But Rick might be coming back at any time," I whispered.

 

"We'll deal with that when the time comes," Earl whispered back.

 

We came back around the front of the building and I gripped the handle, squeezing gently and pushing to see whether it was locked. It was.

 

"Knock," Earl said.

 

I rapped on the door. There was some stirring inside, then Greenway's voice from behind the wood. "Who is it?"

 

My mind raced. "Rick!" I said. I forced my voice a little lower, trying to approximate Rick's tone.

 

"Where's your key?"

 

Would Rick have the patience to explain? I decided not. "Just open the fucking door!" I shouted.

 

I heard the bolt turn back, and once the door had cleared the latch, Earl put his boot to it. The door swung wide into the darkened outer office and Earl forced his way in ahead of me, gun slightly raised at two o'clock. Once we were both inside, I closed the door and locked it, and saw Greenway sprawled out on the floor and Carpington standing in the door of Greenway's office, looking more or less petrified.

 

"Both of you," Earl said, sounding very much in control, "in one place, please." He motioned, with his gun hand, for Greenway to get up and back into his office.

 

"Please don't shoot us," Carpington whined.

 

"Shut up," Earl said, shoving Greenway ahead of him into his office. He took his spot back behind his desk while Carpington retreated into the chair across from it.

 

"Cuff 'em, Zack," Earl said. And I thought, If only I had a nickel for every time someone has said that to me. By now, I'd have five cents.

 

Carpington was wide-eyed with horror, while Greenway tried harder to look composed, thinking maybe if he exuded confidence we'd be unnerved, that maybe he knew something we didn't. It might work. Even though we had the drop on them, I was definitely unnerved.

 

"Just tell me what you want," Carpington said to me. "You said you didn't want money before, but maybe you've changed your mind. I can get you some."

 

"Maybe you've saved up some of those weekly payments that are recorded in that ledger," I said, pulling two sets of handcuffs from my pocket. I grabbed his wrist and slapped one cuff on it while Earl held his gun up to discourage anyone from making any objections. With his left hand, he took his cigarette out of his mouth and tapped some ashes onto the floor.

 

I forced Carpington's hand behind his back, brought his other arm around, and cuffed his wrists together like I'd been doing this all my life. I felt a little rush.

 

"You're not doing that to me," Greenway said as I rounded the desk with the other pair.

 

"Maybe if you'd fixed my fucking shower I'd be feeling a little more kindly," I said. I reached for his wrist and he drew back.

 

"Keep away from me!" he said. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."

 

"Neither do you," Earl said, and fired off a round into the site plan that hung on the wall behind Greenway.

 

The shot was deafening and caught me as much by surprise as it did our two prisoners. I felt the blast ring in my ears. Greenway jolted back into his chair and Carpington slunk down in his. With his hands cuffed, he couldn't stop his slide and went right to the floor.

 

"Jesus Christ, Earl!" I shouted. "What the hell you doing?"

 

"Getting their attention," he said calmly. "Mr. Greenway, would you be kind enough to let my associate here put some handcuffs on you?"

 

Greenway grudgingly obliged, then settled himself back into his leather business chair, trying to look as though having his hands trapped behind him didn't detract from his dignity in any way.

 

"Now," said Earl, "I need your car keys."

 

"Huh?" Greenway said.

 

"What?" Carpington said.

 

"Why?" I asked.

 

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