Page 33 of Sting
“Actually Kinnard made the selection,” Hick said wryly. “We know all this because the frat boy was all over the party girl during this discussion, and she heard everything. When the time came to leave, the frat boy insisted that she go along to ‘keep him company.’ Her words.
“They piled into the Mercedes. Kinnard behind the wheel. Just beyond the villa’s security gate, he stopped the car and ordered the girl to get out. Frat Boy objected, but Kinnard told him his hard-on should be for this guy who was going to supply them with valuable information, not for a chick when chicks could be had for a dime a dozen. The jefe agreed with Kinnard. Kinnard got out, opened the backseat door for her, and told her to scram.” Hick stopped to take a breath.
Leading him, Joe said, “Okay.”
“Why’d he do that? Why not just kill the girl, too? Which would have been quicker and neater.” He shrugged. “Maybe he has a soft spot for the ladies.”
Joe thought about it for a moment, then, grumbling again, said, “Don’t count on that, either.”
Chapter 9
As the car slowed and then rolled to a stop, Jordie pressed her spine against the back of the seat and used it as leverage to sit up. If he didn’t like it, too damn bad. “Where are we?”
Her best guess was that it had been close to an hour since he’d stopped to blindfold her. It seemed that they’d been driving in circles, but without her sense of sight, she could have easily become disoriented.
Without saying a word, he opened the driver’s door and got out.
“Where are you going?”
Her question went unanswered, but she could tell by his footfalls that he was walking away from the car, treading cautiously. What was he doing? What was he about to do?
Seized by panic, she struggled to free her hands and feet. To no avail, of course, but she had to do something or she would go mad with anxiety.
She jumped in fright when the trunk popped open, which he must have unlatched remotely using the key fob. As she heard him returning to the car, she asked, “What are you doing?”
“Checking things out.”
“Please take the blindfold off.”
“I’m busy.”
He walked away again and, a few seconds later, the silence was broken by the noisy clanking of metal against metal, followed by a scraping sound and a squeal that sounded like rusty hinges.
He came back to the car and replaced whatever he’d taken from the trunk. It landed with a heavy thud. A tire tool of some sort? He didn’t bother closing the lid of the trunk before getting back into the driver’s seat and engaging the gears.
“What was that racket? What were you doing?”
The car rolled forward slowly, its tires crunching over gravel. She knew the moment they entered some sort of enclosure. Even with the blindfold on, she could tell they were no longer in sunlight, and the air quality changed, becoming musty and dank, smelling faintly of motor oil and mice.
He stopped the car, turned off the engine, and got out. He was gone for a minute or more, but she could hear him moving around, then he returned to the car and opened the backseat door. When he touched her cheek, she flinched.
“Easy,” he said.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to turn your head.”
“What for?”
“I thought you wanted the blindfold off.”
She hesitated then turned her head away from him. He untied the bandana and caught it as it fell away from her eyes. As she blinked him into focus, he was tucking the corner of the bandana into the front pocket of his jeans.
Neither spoke as he squatted in the wedge of the open door and reached in to unknot the bandana around her ankles. As he straightened up, he looked into her face but didn’t say anything. He motioned her out of the car. It was awkward to do with her hands bound behind her back, but he made no move to help her, probably because she had rebuffed his previous attempts.
Once on her feet beside the car, she made a slow pivot to get her bearings. When she came back around to him, she said, “The view isn’t worth the long drive it took to get here.”
“Still mouthy.” He stepped behind her and snipped off the plastic cuff, then unwound the bandana he’d used to pad her wrists.
