He’d been home for several hours and immediately turned on the scanner when he walked in. From what he’d learned from the back-and-forth communication, Cannon and the occupants of the minivan that had T-boned him had been taken to Mercy Hospital.
I swear I can’t win. He’s one lucky cop, and I’m still in the same boat I’ve been in for the last few weeks.
Sitting on the couch, he read through his lengthy legal documents for the tenth time. His window of opportunity was running out. He needed those funds by the fifteenth of the month, or he would never get them at all.
He knew he’d acted in haste by killing Abraham, but the guy had had a lot of nerve demanding more money. Money was the problem to begin with, and he’d already given the hired killer every penny he had. And to top it off, when he dumped Abraham’s body at the motel, he couldn’t find the money he’d originally given the man. He tore the room apart, but the money was gone. He did come across Abraham’s journal, an important piece of evidence if it ever landed in the hands of the police. He snatched that up, gave the room another quick look, and left.
That jerk was one step ahead of me the whole time. He put the money in either the bank or a lockbox somewhere.
After cracking open his third beer, he knew he needed to devise a new plan. Having people killed just to keep the police busy looking for a serial killer roaming the streets of Savannah wasn’t working in his favor. Then, like an idiot, he’d killed the killer. Now the cops knew there were at least two people involved—Abraham and someone else. They would be even more determined to find the person responsible for the murders since a detective had been injured.
Tomorrow, he planned to head to South Carolina then North Carolina to get rid of some of the merchandise Abraham had stolen from the pawnshop. That cash should hold him over for a while. Once it was daylight, he planned to stop, assess the damages the Tahoe might have sustained, then head to South Carolina. Hopefully, some of the items Abraham had snatched would make the trip worthwhile.
Before going to bed, he gulped down two shots of whiskey. He needed a decent night’s sleep before the drive the next day, and lying awake all night worrying wasn’t going to do it.
The next morning, he woke, showered and dressed, then packed a few items for the trip. He would be back on Saturday, hopefully with a little extra cash to hold him over. A quick stop to take a closer look at the Tahoe and then he’d be on his way.
After pulling into the driveway, he climbed out of his car, entered the code on the garage keypad, and waited as the door lifted. Inside, he walked to the wall switch, lit up the garage, and closed the door. Nosy neighbors weren’t what he needed. He planned to stay for only a few minutes, look at the SUV, then get on his way.
Once inside the garage, he backed up several feet. He needed room in front of the SUV to assess the damages, which he hoped were minimal. After all, hitting a vehicle made from resin and composite materials couldn’t have caused too much damage to the Tahoe. He rounded the front of the SUV and took a look. To his surprise, the turn signal lens on the driver’s side was gone. Only plastic shards remained.
“Shit.”
Looking closer, he noticed scuffs where the green paint was missing from the SUV. That meant it had likely transferred onto the Corvette. He could only hope that the paint transfer on the crunched-in car had been overlooked.