Rick took one last drag on his cigarette, tossed it away, and said, “How much longer?”
Mike glanced at his watch. “I dunno. Another hour, maybe two. He said he’d get here as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, but he’s, where, down in Vegas?”
Mike shrugged. “He didn’t say where he was. Just that he’d be here as soon as possible. You might want to make sure you clean up those butts before he gets here, you know what’s good for you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rick said, lighting himself another cigarette.
Mike’s phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket, said, “It’s Dan,” and placed the phone to his hear. “Go ahead.”
He listened for several long seconds, nodding, saying, “Uh-huh, uh-huh,” then saying, “Okay, sounds good,” before slipping the phone back in his pocket.
Rick said, “What’s up?”
“They didn’t find anything at the motel. Not even an ID.”
Rick nodded, taking another long drag on his cigarette. He glanced over at the girl sitting on the ground against his truck. Her ankles were bound, her wrists tied behind her back. A piece of duct tape was over her mouth, though Rick wasn’t sure why, as the girl had refused to say a word since they found her. Yeah, she had screamed for help at first, but once it was clear no help was coming, she quieted up real fast. Almost too fast. Even when they threatened her, she wouldn’t speak. Pete had the bright idea of notifying Sam, who then called Connelly, who said he would be there as soon as possible and not to touch the girl until he arrived. Now they were waiting just outside the mine, Rick and Mike and the girl, while Dan and Pete had already searched the girl’s car and now her motel room and found nothing, while the eggheads worked inside the mine without a clue of what was happening out here.
Mike snapped his fingers suddenly. “Shit, I just thought of something.”
Rick blew smoke out of the side of his mouth. “What’s that?”
“You should text Joe and let him know what’s going on. Maybe have him head over here.”
Rick didn’t move at first, smoking his cigarette, but when Mike kept watching him, he withdrew his phone from his pocket and typed a quick text. Why Mike didn’t just do it himself, Rick didn’t know, but he didn’t feel like arguing. He was as irritated as anyone else. They should be an hour away by now, driving the product to the drop-off point. Instead they were stuck here at the mine, babysitting.
He finished his cigarette and flicked the butt to the ground.
“Seriously,” Mike said, “you better make sure you clean those up before he gets here.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rick said, and placed another cigarette between his lips.