Best Defense
another. I won’t say I ran, but I didn’t bruise the grass as my feet flew over it. If there were any of Bob’s people in the area, they’d have a great story to embellish for him. If there were any of the bad guys in the area, they would know they had me spooked. I didn’t care.
    Once in the car, I raced out of the parking lot with no thought of my speed. My only goal was to clear the area as fast as I could. If I attracted the attention of a policeman, that was fine, too. At that point, I didn’t mind what anyone said about my running like a coward. I intended to be around to run another day.

twelve
    He watched as the woman scrambled away from the center circle of the soccer field, never looking back. Now, that’s an inter esting sight. We didn’t figure on a woman. Wonder who she is. Probably some lady cop in plain clothes. Shouldn’t matter though. She picked up the message, and that’s the important part. His brow furrowed as he again scanned the area, a worried expression plastering his face. She has to have someone spotting for her. Nobody would send a lone woman for something like this, even a female cop. I’ll just sit tight for a while. They’ll get tired of waiting and make a move.
    He had been there for over three hours, having arrived at eleven-thirty. Their plan was for him to be in place before the police could put together a plan. That way, he’d be in position to watch the cops swarm in—if they came. He wasn’t concerned about anyone spotting him. He figured anything other than a direct flashlight in his face would never detect him. And, if they found him, no big deal. Just another homeless bum sleeping it off. They’d give him a lecture and send him on his way.
    Days before, he had scouted the area and selected the location for the drop—some place in the open where the messenger would be in plain view. Over the weekend, he watched youth soccer games on the field, sitting in the bleachers with the proud parents. That gave him ample opportunity to watch his selected hiding place. No one went near it. Even the smaller children who played games among themselves stayed away. He had smiled at how smart his selection was.
    He frowned as the woman’s car roared to life, and she pulled away, her wheels spinning on the blacktop. At the street, she didn’t hesitate, just charged onto Wiles Road.
    Chuckling, he mumbled, “It’s a good thing we picked a time when there’s little traffic. I wouldn’t want her in an accident before Hammonds gets the word.”
    He settled back onto the short, three-legged stool and scanned the area again. Time to sit quiet. I’ll give it forty-five minutes to see if anyone pops up. Ought to have that much time before there’s too much light. That broad must have someone covering her back. I can’t believe the cops would let her come alone. He stuck his legs straight out in front of him, flexing his calf muscles to stop a cramping sensation. Sure wish I’d brought a cushion. I’m stiff as a board, and my butt’s killing me.
    He turned away from the field and lit a cigarette, cupping the flame to obscure it. Taking a deep drag, he swiveled on his perch, keeping one hand over the end of the glowing tip as he did a three-sixty of the area. “No way anyone can see anything in here.” He stared at the butt. “Nasty habit. Another rotten thing I learned in prison.”
    Enjoying his smoke, he kept a sharp watch but saw nothing. The soccer field, parking lot, even the business and school across the street stayed quiet. Nothing moved except an occasional car passing on Wiles Road or Royal Springs Drive.
    After his self-allotted forty-five minutes, he picked up his stool and edged his way out of his hidey-hole, shaking his head. “I don’t understand why she came alone, but if she didn’t, they hid too good for me to spot them. I reckon they’re gone by

Similar Books

Coming Home

M.A. Stacie

Push The Button

Feminista Jones

Secret Seduction

Aminta Reily

The Violet Line

Bilinda Ni Siodacain

The Whites and the Blues

1802-1870 Alexandre Dumas

Snow Crash

Neal Stephenson

Eleanor and Franklin

Joseph P. Lash