They had passed St. Louis an hour earlier, and as five o’clock rolled around, John decided that Springfield would be their final stop. They would eat a decent dinner and gas up the car. John estimated they’d arrive in Chicago around eight thirty that night before surprising Jared Bell as he and his family settled in for a Sunday evening in front of the TV. John had other plans for him.
They walked into the truck stop restaurant and waited to be seated. After pleasantries from the waitress, she set down two glasses of water, took their order, and walked away.
John leaned across the booth’s tabletop, his elbows nearly at the halfway point. “We’ll take him by surprise and finish him off right in his own home. His family can watch or leave the room, makes no difference to me.”
“But they’ll be able to ID us,” Curt said.
John shrugged. “Then we’ll eliminate the problem.”
“You mean—”
John put his index finger to his mouth. “Shh… that’s exactly what I mean. It’s them or us, and believe me, brother, we didn’t come this far for it to be us.”
Curt kept silent when the waitress carried a tray to the booth and placed their plates in front of them.
“Anything else, gentlemen?” She gave them both a wide smile as she picked up the tray.
“More napkins and ketchup,” Curt said as he eyed his greasy double cheeseburger and waffle fries.
“Coming right up. Another beer, fellas?”
John nodded. “Two more. Thanks.”
Back on the road by five thirty, the men drove straight through to Chicago. As they neared Jared Bell’s block, John reached for Curt’s shoulder.
“Hold up and cut the lights. Hurry!” John peered through the windshield and watched. “They have a unit in front of his house. Look there.” John pointed at a dark sedan parked two houses away from Jared Bell’s. “See those two men? They’re sitting in there like idiots with the map light on.” He glanced toward Bell’s house. “The only reason there’d be cops watching the place when there isn’t a single light on inside is if they’re expecting us to show up.” He quietly opened the passenger door.
Curt snapped his head to the right. “Where the hell are you going?”
“To check the alley.”
“You got some kind of death wish?”
John shushed him. “I’ll be fine. I didn’t get this far by being a chicken shit. Ten bucks says there’s an unmarked car back there too. Stay put. I’ll be right back, and if anyone heads toward you other than me, shoot them.”
He took off on foot, staying away from the street lamps. Once he reached the alley, he clung to the sides of garages for cover and inched his way closer to the Bell house. Another unmarked unit was parked along their driveway.
Son of a bitch. Bell isn’t here, but I have to find a way to draw him out from wherever he’s at.
John returned to the Porsche and climbed into the passenger seat. “Back up until you reach the next block and then turn on it. Keep the headlights off until we’re completely out of sight.”
Curt did as instructed then hit the lights a block to their east. “Now what?”
“Now we check in to a motel for the night while I plan our next move.”