Sean climbed out of the SUV. The school grounds were surprisingly empty. And dark. Any after-school activities were probably long over, and the building looked locked up tight. Sean trailed Chipotle Man down the path. Turn around and go home, the voice whispered in his head—but he continued to follow. At the end of the sidewalk, he crouched on his heels and peered around the corner. In the shadows, he could see three figures, one of them wearing a hat. There was a smell he hadn’t encountered since college, and the glow from the tip of a joint.
He wasn’t sure what to do next, so he decided just to watch. Hopefully, he’d catch Chipotle Man alone. It was a long ten minutes, and he felt creepy lurking at a high school. He saw an outline of someone on a mountain bike riding into the parking lot, but the biker disappeared into the gloom.
Finally, movement. Two of the figures were heading toward Sean. His eyes darted around. No place to hide. Two teenagers nearly bumped into Sean as they turned the corner.
“Unless you want to get arrested,” he said, “I suggest you boys leave now.”
Panic in their eyes, they scurried away, apparently buying the fake cop routine.
Sean looked around the corner. There was still the outline of a hat and the flare of another joint. He stepped toward the man. The glow of the joint went out and there was a dark blur. Chipotle Man was taking off.
Sean sprinted after him. Chipotle Man was darting toward a short chain-link fence to the left of the main building. In the dim light, Sean could see a scoreboard and realized that the man was headed to the football field. Chipotle Man raced down the bleacher stairs and jumped another fence and disappeared onto the field. Sean followed, taking the stairs two at a time, aluminum thundering with each step. He vaulted the fence and continued after him. Chipotle Man came into view again. He looked over his shoulder and stumbled, allowing Sean to gain on him.
Sean was close, but the man was just out of reach. He felt the gun slipping out from his waistband. Sean willed himself a burst of strength and he dove, catching Chipotle Man around the legs and bringing him down. As Sean also hit the ground, the gun fell onto the field.
Chipotle Man sat in the grass for a dazed moment. He stared at Sean and then his glance moved to the gun. Both men paused a beat, and then simultaneously scrambled toward the revolver. The next thing Sean saw was the skinny man, panting and out of breath, standing over him, the barrel aimed at Sean’s head.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Chipotle Man shouted. He was breathing heavily and he let out a barking cough.
Sean held up his hand, shielding his face. “I just want to know what happened to my daughter.”
The man hit Sean in the head with the butt of the gun, sending him flat on the field. The man stood over him.
“I didn’t touch your daughter,” Chipotle Man shouted. “Get that through your dumb-ass head. And I don’t got her cheap-ass necklace no more if that’s what this is about.”
Emily, Ryan, and Jack’s faces shot through Sean’s mind as the blood from the gash on his head dripped into his eyes. This had been a mistake. Another terrible mistake. He looked up at Chipotle Man. “What … happened … to it?” His mouth was dry, voice hoarse.
“Happened to what, motherfucker?”
“The necklace…” Sean struggled.
“Some guy bought it back for her.”
It didn’t make sense. Who would she have gone to for help? He looked up at the man, who seemed to be debating what to do. Sean was feeling faint, but he fought to stay conscious.
“Who was he?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?”
“Who…”
Chipotle Man’s eyes narrowed. The last thing Sean heard before things went dark was “He was some rich dude in a suit, like you.”
CHAPTER 28
When Sean came to, he was laid out in the grass on the football field. His arm was outstretched and a hand cinched around his wrist. He felt another swell of nausea. He looked up and saw Chipotle Man, the veins in the man’s thin neck bulging, as he struggled to drag Sean across the field. He had one hand around Sean’s wrist, the other holding a phone to his ear.
“I don’t think I’ve got a choice,” Chipotle Man said into the phone.
In the distance behind the man Sean could see lights winking through gaps in the trees. If Chipotle Man wanted to kill him, he assumed he would have done it already. Maybe he just needed to give the guy a way out.
“I’m not gonna tell anyone,” Sean said. His throat was still dry, his voice raspy. “I just want to know about my daughter.”
Chipotle Man stopped and let go of Sean’s wrist. His arm flopped to the ground. Into the phone Chipotle Man said, “Hold on a minute.” He crouched down near Sean’s face. His clothes smelled of cigarettes and weed. Breath foul. “Shut your fucking mouth or I will put a bullet in you.” He stood and brandished the gun—Sean’s gun.
Chipotle Man then went ramrod straight, his eyes bugged, and he collapsed. Sean shoved the man’s limp body off of him and strained to sit up. He wiped the blood away from his eyes with his own shirt and tried to focus on the silhouette standing before him.
He was pale, his face disfigured from fear. And he was holding a steel rod—the kind used in construction—in his right hand.
Ryan.