deflated tire, sunglasses in one hand, running the palm of his other across the rubber tread.
Kalyn holstered the Glock in a shoulder rig, which was concealed by her jacket.
“There’s no turning back once he’s in the car, Will. You understand that, right?”
Will took a breath, opened the door, and stepped outside.
Traffic was light, and with this stretch of road still five miles outside of Scottsdale, the landscape was predominantly sunlit desert as far as Will could see. He steadied his hands as they approached the Escalade, trying to process everything that had happened in the last two hours, marveling at how fast it had come to this.
Kalyn ran her tongue against the roof of her mouth, moistening it so she could speak. He had to buy it, or they could forget the whole thing. She rubbed her hands against her wool skirt.
Javier looked up when they were fifteen feet away, and Will watched Kalyn work up a big smile. She was originally from Texas, and she conjured up the accent she’d fought so hard to shed.
“Got yourself a flat tire there?”
Javier nodded, and Will tried to read him, but he wasn’t smiling or scowling, just receiving information. He wondered if he had a gun on him, would have staked the savings he didn’t have that the man had something lethal in the Escalade, probably under the seat or the dash. Javier let loose a lukewarm smile, not a shred of warmth to it. Will was praying Kalyn’s accent was so appalling, she’d offended whatever sensibilities he had, thereby distracting him.
“Did you run over something sharp?” Kalyn asked. “You got a spare?”
He sighed. “Yes. I have a spare.” He was still staring at her, his eyes processing her face. “Could you tell me something?” he asked.
“What’s that?”
“I’m certain I’ve seen you today. Could you tell me where?”
“I never seen you before in my life. I was just stopping to help a—”
“Ah, yes. The pro shop. You were speaking with Dan when I came in from my round.” At light speed, Javier’s eyes cut to Will, then back to Kalyn’s face. “This is the gentleman you were with?”
Will estimated that they were seven feet apart, wondered how fast Javier could move.
Blink of an eye. Draw, Kalyn.
Javier said, “Your palms are sweating.”
Draw.
“Your hand is anxious to reach for the gun under your jacket. My concern, being that I don’t know you, is that you would try to do it quickly and accidentally shoot me before I’ve given you actual cause. So let’s circumvent that possible outcome. Take two steps back. Then slowly draw your weapon. Here are my hands. I’m unarmed. I will not move.”
She stepped back, reached into her jacket, drew the Glock, holding it low as she moved around behind him. “Get on your knees,” she said. He did. “Now put your hands behind your head and interlace your fingers.” Will was feeling confident in Kalyn’s ability to control the situation now, the Escalade keeping them shielded from the view of passing cars. From an inner pocket of her jacket, she took a pair of handcuffs and snapped them over Javier’s right wrist. “Lie flat on your stomach, with your hands behind your back.”
Javier made no argument, carefully prostrating himself on the pavement.
She locked the cuff around his other wrist.
“Get up on your feet slowly.” He rolled over onto his back, sat up, then stood up. “Approach your car, lean against it, and spread your legs.” She frisked him, found nothing but his wallet and a BlackBerry in the knickers pockets. “Now walk to
my
car.”
20
The passenger door opened. Javier Estrada ducked his head and climbed into the front seat.
“Buckle his seat belt,” Kalyn said. Will hesitated. “He’s cuffed; he isn’t carrying any weapons. It’s fine.” Will felt Javier’s eyes taking inventory of his face as he leaned over and pulled the seat belt across the man’s chest and locked it into place. Kalyn shut the door, opened the one behind
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