even going to take her. I was just going to fix her tire and let her go, but when I knocked on her window to get her attention, it scared the heck out of her. I don’t know; it made me excited to see her scared like that.”
“Did she make any calls on her phone while you were there? Could she have told anyone that the tow truck driver was there to help her?”
Jordan leaned back, placing his hands behind his neck to support his head.
“No, she was just sitting there listening to her music.” A smile crossed Jordan’s face and he closed his eyes to remember more clearly. “She got out of the car to show me the flat tire. She was so pretty in her little skirt. I knew she wanted me to fuck her right---”
A hard slap across Jordan’s head shook him from his reverie.
“Watch your language, young man. Nobody respects a man with a filthy mouth.”
Jordan braced himself in his chair, prepared for another slap.
“I’m sorry, Pop,” he said.
“How did you get the girl into your truck?”
Jordan leaned forward, spreading his elbows across the table, rubbing at the sore spot on his head.
“She started getting nervous. I think she knew what I was thinking. No cars had passed since I had gotten there and she caught me staring at her as……..butt .”
Jordan winced a little, but the slap never came.
“She opened her cell phone and started to make a call. I didn’t even think. The next thing I knew, she was struggling in my arms and I was dragging her to my truck. I tied her up, gagged her, and threw her in the tool box. I was scared to death. You’re always the one who gets the girls.”
“I am always the one who gets the girls because I know what I am doing. There is never any connection between them and me. No one ever knows that I was anywhere near the girls that I take. You screwed up, Jordan. You left a huge trail right to our doorstep. You, and only you, have a connection to this missing person. Everyone will now focus on you.”
Jordan’s head was bowed.
“I’m sorry, Pop,” he said. “I thought you would be proud of me.”
“You buried the girl’s body like I told you, right?
Jordan nodded.
“I’m not going to hear that hunters stumbled across the nude body of this missing college student, am I?”
Jordan shook his head, “No,” he mumbled. “I buried her under the mattress. Just like you told me to.”
“If this doesn’t work, Jordan, I am going to cut your throat and bleed you out real slow. I am not going to let you take me down with you, do you understand that?”
Jordan sat back and bowed his head, nodding scarcely.
“Do you understand what I am saying, Jordan?”
“Yes, Pop.”
fourteen
Morning peeked through the heavy curtains in Mike Haller’s rented room at the Sightseer Inn. Its advance had be en agonizingly slow as Mike lay in his bed and questioned every decision he had made over the past twenty years. His confidence was gone and he began to wonder if his choice to stay in Ranch Springs was based on sound principle.
Mike sat up and rubbed at his temples. Migraine headaches were a persistent reminder of his run in with a contract killer earlier in the year. The thought of Butch Dawson brought memories flooding back of Mike’s boss and good friend, Sheriff Danny Blum. If Danny were alive now, he had no doubt that Blum would be here and Sara would be found in short order. Looking around the empty room, he was run over by a sense of loneliness. His best friend was dead, his daughter
“Did she make any calls on her phone while you were there? Could she have told anyone that the tow truck driver was there to help her?”
Jordan leaned back, placing his hands behind his neck to support his head.
“No, she was just sitting there listening to her music.” A smile crossed Jordan’s face and he closed his eyes to remember more clearly. “She got out of the car to show me the flat tire. She was so pretty in her little skirt. I knew she wanted me to fuck her right---”
A hard slap across Jordan’s head shook him from his reverie.
“Watch your language, young man. Nobody respects a man with a filthy mouth.”
Jordan braced himself in his chair, prepared for another slap.
“I’m sorry, Pop,” he said.
“How did you get the girl into your truck?”
Jordan leaned forward, spreading his elbows across the table, rubbing at the sore spot on his head.
“She started getting nervous. I think she knew what I was thinking. No cars had passed since I had gotten there and she caught me staring at her as……..butt .”
Jordan winced a little, but the slap never came.
“She opened her cell phone and started to make a call. I didn’t even think. The next thing I knew, she was struggling in my arms and I was dragging her to my truck. I tied her up, gagged her, and threw her in the tool box. I was scared to death. You’re always the one who gets the girls.”
“I am always the one who gets the girls because I know what I am doing. There is never any connection between them and me. No one ever knows that I was anywhere near the girls that I take. You screwed up, Jordan. You left a huge trail right to our doorstep. You, and only you, have a connection to this missing person. Everyone will now focus on you.”
Jordan’s head was bowed.
“I’m sorry, Pop,” he said. “I thought you would be proud of me.”
“You buried the girl’s body like I told you, right?
Jordan nodded.
“I’m not going to hear that hunters stumbled across the nude body of this missing college student, am I?”
Jordan shook his head, “No,” he mumbled. “I buried her under the mattress. Just like you told me to.”
“If this doesn’t work, Jordan, I am going to cut your throat and bleed you out real slow. I am not going to let you take me down with you, do you understand that?”
Jordan sat back and bowed his head, nodding scarcely.
“Do you understand what I am saying, Jordan?”
“Yes, Pop.”
fourteen
Morning peeked through the heavy curtains in Mike Haller’s rented room at the Sightseer Inn. Its advance had be en agonizingly slow as Mike lay in his bed and questioned every decision he had made over the past twenty years. His confidence was gone and he began to wonder if his choice to stay in Ranch Springs was based on sound principle.
Mike sat up and rubbed at his temples. Migraine headaches were a persistent reminder of his run in with a contract killer earlier in the year. The thought of Butch Dawson brought memories flooding back of Mike’s boss and good friend, Sheriff Danny Blum. If Danny were alive now, he had no doubt that Blum would be here and Sara would be found in short order. Looking around the empty room, he was run over by a sense of loneliness. His best friend was dead, his daughter
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