Josh looked over his shoulder as the door opened and Harold walked in. “Took you long enough.”
“You insisted I get the car at least an hour away. You know how many bus stops are between here and Joliet?”
Josh waved him off. “Did you take care of everything that was on the list?” He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out two beers. He mouthed the caps and snapped them off the bottles with his teeth.
Harold grimaced and shook his head. “I get shivers every time you do that.”
“Get over it, old man. I told you they had good dental and medical services in the slammer, courtesy of you taxpayers—thank you very much.”
Harold muttered under his breath.
Josh gave his uncle a threatening glance. “Speak up. I can’t hear you.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Good answer. So?”
“I found out his address, drove by, and have all the right tools”—he cocked his head toward the ankle bracelet—“but I’m not going to admit to helping you if that thing throws an alarm.”
“It won’t. I’ve studied the videos a million times, plus I’ve been coached by a dozen cons on how it’s done. Yeah, ankle bracelets and technology have become more advanced over time, but it isn’t like they throw away the old ones every year. This particular model isn’t that high-tech. Remember, they released a drug dealer, not an axe murderer.”
“But I thought—”
Josh leaned in and sneered. “You thought what?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s right. You got the rental car outside?”
“Yep.”
“And you rented it with your fake ID?”
“I did.”
“Then we’re golden. You used yours to rent the car, I have mine for everything else, and as soon as I get this thing off, I’m out of here. If something does happen and the cops come calling, you better keep your mouth shut. You don’t know a damn thing, right?”
The old man nodded. “Uh-huh.”
Josh stared at his sixty-five-year-old uncle, probably longer than the man was comfortable with. Harold wrung his hands and looked away.
“Just remember, if anything happens and I find out you talked, I’ll come back for you, and I guarantee, it won’t be pretty.”
“I know, I know. I told you I won’t talk.”
“Then come over here and help me get this off my leg. I have things to do and places to be.”
Nearly an hour passed before he was free of the ankle bracelet, but the time it took—and the painstaking effort—was well worth it. The monitor continued to flash red as if it was still wrapped around Josh’s leg.
“It’s about damn time,” he said as he rubbed his ankle. Josh stared at his uncle, still undecided about what to do with him. The man had been sketchy all his life, and even though he was older and possibly wiser, Josh still didn’t trust him. Harold was a means to an end and nothing more. Josh needed somebody to give him a place to live or he would be sent to a halfway house.
Once a weasel, always a weasel.
As soon as the old man turned his back, Josh sprang into action and wrapped his forearm around Harold’s neck. He pulled him in against his chest and cut off the man’s breathing as he struggled to get away. With his right hand forcing Harold’s head to the left, he pushed until his uncle’s neck snapped. Josh let go, and Harold’s knees buckled under his weight. He dropped to the floor—dead within seconds.
“Sorry, old man. It wasn’t personal. When push comes to shove, I knew you weren’t a man I could trust once I was out of your sight. You served your purpose, so good on you. Now I’ll be on my way.”