This job was supposed to be easy, although it gnawed at him from the moment he agreed to take it. But it paid more money than he’d ever seen in his life. Enough money to stop begging Ellice and give him a fresh start in Chillicothe. Maybe hire a couple people to get the farm going again. But what if she’s right and that Jonathan Everett guy is trying to frame me for some murder? He thought back to their last meeting. Just drop the car off at the cabin, pick up the last installment of my money, enjoy the cabin. Jonathan said he’d pick him up in the morning. But Sam decided he would collect his money and be gone before daybreak. He didn’t need a ride. Just the rest of his money.
Everett even gave him a 9 mm Glock just in case of an unforeseen emergency. They had prepared for everything except the part about the car being a piece of crap that wouldn’t make it the entire trip.
Sam opened the glove box and groped around, looking for a flashlight, but came up empty. Maybe there was a flashlight in the trunk. He took a deep breath, flexed his gloved fingers, pulled down the brim of his baseball cap, and slid out of the car.
The wintry night air blustered about, forcing Sam to hunch over against its chilly bite. Now he regretted not wearing a real coat. The thin black leather jacket he wore was a piss-poor match for the freezing temperature. He hated winters in Georgia. And he hated being in the woods, ever since he was a kid.
A plume of breath encircled his head when he exhaled. The cold wind was unrelenting against the tall Georgia pines. Dry brittle foliage rustled beneath the trees and a coyote howled off in the distance. These were the kinds of noises he grew up with back in Chillicothe, but now, here alone on a deserted rural county road, the sounds were almost deafening. Sam tried to convince himself that all he had to worry about out here was a loose deer or an itinerant bear, both of which he could comfortably handle with the Glock packed firmly in the waistband of his blue jeans.
Within the first few steps, tentacles of fear moved in, laying claim and burrowing underneath his skin. Something isn’t right. Vera would have called it his God sense warning him. He hustled to the back of the car and popped open the trunk. The small beam from the upper side of the trunk provided the only illumination on the body inside.
Shit!
The shock sent Sam stumbling backward, tripping over a large chunk of gravel before falling flat on the ground. He jumped up, brushed off his pants, and glanced around as if this were some cruel joke at his expense.
Sam took a couple of timid steps toward the trunk, nervous curiosity and unbridled fear jumbled together inside of him. He recognized the man: it was the same guy he’d been hired to trail for Jonathan, the same guy Ellice said was missing. The man’s body, crumpled on top of some newspapers and a toolbox, was neatly dressed in a pinstriped suit and tie and black coat. But how’d he wind up in the back of this car?
Sam didn’t want to touch him at first. But he did. Cold. Hard. Dead.
He nervously lifted the man’s jacket and retrieved a slim brown wallet from the breast pocket. The driver’s license confirmed him as Geoffrey J. Gallagher and showed a Johns Creek address.
Ellie was right. The Everett guy really is trying to frame me for murder. Yeah, I’ll call Ellie as soon as I get back into the city. She can help me figure this mess out.
Sam left everything in place, including one hundred eighty-seven dollars inside the wallet, along with credit cards and the man’s titanium wedding band. He slipped the wallet back into the man’s pocket.
I’m not a monster.
Sam zipped up his jacket and stared into the black hole of night around him. Nothing about this job had felt right and now he knew why. Behind him, the roar of a car engine and the sudden shimmer of headlights barreled over the crest of the road. Sam stiffened for an instant before peering over his shoulder into the oncoming lights. He quickly closed the trunk and lurched into the middle of the road flailing his arms for the driver to stop.
Sam mustered up a weak smile, ready to enlist a stranger’s help. The black Escalade pulled to a full stop beside him. He peered in the cab as the window slowly slid down. A streak of panic slid through him when he recognized the man behind the wheel.
“What are you doing out here on the side of the road? I thought we were meeting at the cabin?”
“Uh . . . yeah . . . the car broke down,” Sam said nervously.
“No worries. Get in the car. I’ll give you a lift back to the city.”
Sam started to back away from the car. His first thought: Just run.
“C’mon. Get in. I’ll pay you and drop you back off in the city.”