"They're slowing down," I said, glancing at my screen.
"Everyone is slowing down in this traffic," Woody pointed out.
"Not shit, but they've come to a stop about a block up from here." I nodded straight ahead. "She's moving sideways like they're taking her out of the car."
I peered through the windshield in frustration. The traffic was thicker, like people appeared out of the woodwork to get in our way. If I didn't know better, I'd think they planned it.
I have to admit, that rocket launcher didn't sound like a bad idea right now.
"It might be faster to run." I was almost ready to jump out of the vehicle when it started moving again, only to stop when Woody pulled up to the side of the curb.
"I don't care if this is a loading zone. They can give me a fucking ticket." Phone in his hand, he pushed out of his car and slammed the door behind him before starting to trot.
Forrest and I were right on his heels.
"You know they're going to tow that," I said, jerking my head back toward his car.
Woody snorted. "Don't give a shit," he said.
I grinned. "Funny, me either."
We could all afford to buy him a new car, including him. It was only a piece of metal anyway. Sure, it was a nineteen sixty-seven Mustang, but whatever. It was replaceable. Sable wasn't.
"We need to slow down," Forrest called when we were maybe fifty feet from the tracker. "They'll see us coming if we're running."
"I don't care if they see us coming," Woody said. "Let them be scared." But he slowed along with the rest of us.
Everything we did, every time we dealt with a predator, we did it with stealth. There was nothing stealthy about this. Three men in expensive suits walking down the street? We wouldn't go unnoticed. Especially if they were…
"They're waiting for us," Woody growled.
Standing in front of a tattoo parlor were four men in dark suits. All with dark sunglasses and slicked back hair, like some sort of burly boy band.
Asshole and the Puckers. Prick and the Ball Sacs. Four Non-Brains. Musclehead and the… You get the idea.
I know you're thinking it, we’d be Forrest and the Trees. Haha, right? More like Leif and the Thick Trunks. Or Leif’s Thick Trunk and the…
Okay, I’ll work on that.
I managed to tear my eyes away from the wannabe crooners, to glance down at my phone.
The tracker was right behind them, inside the store.
"I'm starting to get the feeling this was a set-up," I said.
"What fucking gave it away?" Woody glared over at me.
"Dumb and Dumber and Thing One and Thing Two," I said, gesturing toward the men. They could decide for themselves which was which. Although the guy on the end looked a lot like a Dumber to me.
"What do you want?" Forrest called out to them.
"Our boss wants to talk to you," one of them said. He opened the door and gestured us all inside.
CHAPTER 12
SABLE
I kept my eyes on the worn linoleum floor so I didn't glare at the thug who cornered me in the restroom and forced me to climb out the window to the other thugs that waited outside. So far I'd gone along with them. The guys had to notice I'd disappeared, right?