Leroy was fucking brilliant. He had Austin’s finest chasing their tails looking for him, but he had outsmarted them all. Everyone always underestimated him, going all the way back to high school. Just because he wasn’t a thick-necked jock, he’d been a bench-sitter. Nothing could convince that asshole football coach to put him in a game. Until a timely “accident” had sidelined Coach’s son. Then Leroy had his chance. He’d always been quick and was good with his hands, had even caught a pass for a touchdown. That had made everyone sit up and take notice, especially the girls. He’d showed ’em he had talents on and off the playing field.
Even college scouts were after him. But rules and studying were for losers. Why would he waste time in college? And forget marrying the first girl he’d knocked up. He’d helped himself to the Booster Club bankroll, then it was adios to that town where the Dairy Queen was the hot spot. Leroy Simms made his own rules, and no one better get in his way.
Friday’s escape couldn’t have gone better. Two guards to cover him. Seriously? He’d waited for his chance, then used the shiv he’d made out of a fountain pen his dumb-ass public defender had “lost” during one of their worthless sessions. Leroy hadn’t been stupid enough to make a quick run for it, either. He hated cops and was happy to put one down, but he had nothing against a working stiff. He knocked out the janitor downstairs and then took his khaki pants and white T-shirt. There’d been a door propped open to the outside because the guy had been in the middle of hauling out garbage. Perfect. Leroy grabbed a can, snatched a battered straw hat from the trash, then stepped out to get the lay of the land.
His luck was in. He picked up a pair of clippers, rubbed a little dirt on his shirt, face, and arms, then joined the landscaping crew. Hell, yeah, he spoke Spanish. What boy growing up in South Texas didn’t? So he clipped hedges and worked his way into the group of men gathering next to a white van. He climbed in right along with them. No one bothered with a head count. Sirens were screaming like crazy when the van pulled away from the curb. Leroy wanted to laugh his head off. Instead he just slumped like the rest of the guys, tired and obviously not through for the day, because, damn it, they stopped pretty quick in front of another government building in downtown. Everyone jumped out and began trimming more greenery.
You’d think he was screwed. They weren’t that far from the jail, where he could see cops swarming like ants. They had traffic stopped and were searching buses. Like he’d do something as obvious as hop on one of those. There was a high-rise condo building on top of underground parking across the street, and Leroy had a plan. He asked one of his fellow workers where he could take a leak. He’d already been warned that whizzing in public on a bush could get them fired. The fella pointed to a restroom in the garage. Perfect. Leroy dropped his hedge trimmers and headed down the ramp. It was nice and cool inside, parking spaces marked with condo numbers. Some were vacant, like the owners were still at work.
When a couple came out of an elevator with suitcases, they chattered with each other about their spring break, a week in Cancun. They ignored Leroy like he was invisible. Of course, the hired help. He itched to cut them with the pocketknife he’d pulled off the janitor as they loaded their Mercedes, discussing the time of their flight and airport parking. After they were gone, he checked their condo number—1824. The elevator was right there. Leroy took his leak in the nearby restroom, washed the dirt off his face and arms, then turned his shirt inside out so it looked clean. Instant maintenance man. He had the gun from that cop he’d laid low, the knife, and a few tools he’d picked up in the janitor’s closet where he’d stashed the guy he’d clocked. Good to go. He took a quick look around, then rode the elevator to the eighteenth floor.
The lock at door number 1824 was nothing. Once inside, Leroy spent the weekend working his way through their designer beer and wishing for some good old Lone Star. No way was he eating the kale in the fridge, but he had a steak thawing in the stainless-steel sink and wondered if he could fire up the grill on the balcony with a crazy good view of the University of Texas campus. Nope, he’d heard neighbors in the hall. But he did turn the TV on low to watch the news to see how the manhunt was going. Too bad the cop was still “clinging to life.” Leroy relaxed when he heard they’d expanded the search for him statewide.
Because he had some unfinished business right here in town. First, he’d never been paid what he was owed. He knew there was someone here he could squeeze. Second? Well, there was that tasty little gal with the perfect ass. He hadn’t got to finish what he’d started with her. And wasn’t that a damn shame? He headed into the home office, where he’d discovered a laptop that connected automatically to Wi-Fi. Thanks, assholes.
Leroy got busy. He might not have a college education, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew how to search for what he needed, thanks to hanging out with a techno-dweeb for way too long. Leroy Simms was just getting started in Austin Fucking Texas.