“Mr. Vetcher, somebody is driving down the fire lane pretty damn slow.” Anthony barely touched the curtain but moved it aside just enough to get a glimpse of the neighborhood watch vehicle crawling toward the cabin. “There’s writing on the side of the car.”
“Dim the lights. All of the curtains are drawn, aren’t they?”
“Yes, sir, so I don’t know why he’s moving at a snail’s pace.”
“There’s a neighborhood watch patrol in this area. Maybe they always drive by that slowly.” Antonio jammed a handful of potato chips into his mouth. Crumbs dropped to the tabletop as he spoke. “Just keep quiet and don’t let him see you moving those curtains around.”
“Shit.”
Carden set the newspaper down and scurried toward Anthony. “What’s wrong?”
“He stopped the car, boss.”
“Son of a bitch. Do we have any guns in here?”
“They’re still in the van.”
Carden jerked his head toward the garage door. “Go get the pistols, Antonio, and don’t make a peep. Don’t turn on the garage light, either. Grab the flashlight. Now hurry!”
Antonio crouched and ran across the living room, grabbed the flashlight off the counter as he passed through the kitchen, then eased the garage door open.
“What’s he doing now?” Carden whispered.
“He’s getting out, sir. This isn’t going to end well.”
“Let’s wait and see, and I’ll do the talking. What’s your uncle’s brother-in-law’s name?”
“Dante Leone.”
“Right. What’s taking Antonio so damn long?”
“The man is coming up the sidewalk, Mr. Vetcher.”
Carden craned his neck toward the kitchen. Antonio was nowhere to be seen. “Damn his slow ass. Go help him, quick.”
Anthony cleared the living room right as a knock sounded. Carden rolled his neck, took in a large gulp of air, and opened the door. On the other side, a man who looked to be in his mid-sixties and wearing a T-shirt and khakis stood with a wide grin on his face. Carden gave the car in front of the garage a quick glance. An advertising magnet with the words Neighborhood Watch Group was secured to the door.
“Howdy. I’m Bob Wells, one of the volunteers for our neighborhood watch association. I just happened to notice shadows behind the drapes and thought I’d check out the situation. You are?”
“Dennis Banks.” Carden stuck out his hand to shake Bob’s. “Sorry to trouble you, Bob, but we aren’t having a situation.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Banks, so what brings you out this way?”
“Fishing.”
“Fishing?” Bob chuckled as he raised his brows and scratched his chin. “The nearest fishing lake is twenty miles west of here. It seems like you could have rented a place closer to the water. By the way, who owns this cabin?”
Carden stared him down. “I’m sure you know who owns the property, Mr. Wells.”
Both men jerked their heads toward the sound of a door opening. Anthony and Antonio came around the corner from the kitchen, each with a pistol tucked in his waistband.
Bob glanced from Anthony to Antonio. “I doubt if you’re going to do much fishing dressed that way.”
Anthony looked at Antonio’s pressed slacks and starched shirt. He turned back to face Bob. “Don’t like our clothes, old man?”
A noise sounded from behind a closed door down the hallway. Bob’s eyes darted in that direction, and the jerk of his hand was enough to set things in motion. He reached for something at his back. In an instant, Antonio pulled the pistol from his waistband and fired into Bob’s chest. A sharp crack rang out, and muzzle smoke circled above the gun’s barrel. Blood spray filled the air, and a grunt came from deep within Bob as the impact launched him backward off the porch to the sidewalk three steps below.
“Son of a bitch! Antonio, why the hell did you do that? Gunfire echoes for miles around here.” Carden’s face twisted into an angry snarl.
“He was going to shoot you, boss. Would you rather be dead? I believe you hired us to help and protect you.” Antonio stepped outside and rolled Bob over with his foot then pointed. “There’s his gun.” Bob lay dead with a pistol beneath his body. Antonio looked over his shoulder at Carden. “Need I say more?”
Carden turned to Anthony. “Help your brother put him in the van. We’ll take the body deep into the woods and dump him.”
“What about his vehicle, boss?” Anthony asked.
“We have to get rid of that too, and it’s blocking the garage, anyway. Come on. Let’s make this quick before someone sees us.” Carden crossed the living room and went into the kitchen. He turned the knob on the garage door. “I’ll open the overhead.”
Antonio knelt over the body and fished through Bob’s pockets.
“Robbing the guy?”
“I’m getting the car keys, asshole.” Antonio pulled out Bob’s wallet. “But we’ll take the wallet too.” He tossed it to Anthony.
Anthony flipped open the wallet. “Shit. Mr. Vetcher isn’t going to like this.”
Antonio pushed off his knees and stood. “He won’t like what?”
“Nice move, idiot. That dude is the county sheriff.”
The rumble of the overhead opening told the men it was time to go. Anthony jerked his head toward the garage. “Slip your hands under his armpits. I’ve got his legs.”
Carden opened the van’s back doors and moved the rifles to the side. “Throw him in. Do you have the car keys?”
Antonio wiped his bloody hands on his pants then dug in his pocket and pulled out the keys. He jangled them in the air. “Right here, boss, but we have a problem.”
“Other than a dead man lying in the van?”
“Yeah, he’s not only dead, he’s the county sheriff.”
“I swear to God, Antonio, you get one step closer to having a bullet lodged in your brain every single day. Now, let’s go. Get those damn magnets off that car and move it out of my way so I can back out the van. Anthony, turn off the lights inside, lock up the house, then throw the doormat over that mess.” Carden jerked his chin toward the blood smear on the sidewalk. “I don’t need anyone who may come calling to see it. Neighborhood watch, huh? Something or someone set off an alert for that nosey sheriff to stop by.” Carden slammed the back doors of the van and climbed into the driver’s seat. He used the side mirrors to back out onto the gravel driveway. The heavy overhead came down, and Anthony exited the front of the house, dragging the doormat behind him. He tossed it over the blood that followed the sidewalk cracks, then he headed toward the van.
“You drive so I can figure out where to go.” Carden climbed out of the driver’s seat and walked around the van. He pulled up a local map on his cell phone. “Okay, there’s no shortage of logging trails around here. Go left at the end of the road. We’ll find one that’s pretty remote and get rid of the sheriff and that stupid car.” Carden directed Anthony deeper into the woods.
“What if we get stuck, Mr. Vetcher?”
Carden rolled his eyes. “Really? It hasn’t rained in a month, so there’s no reason to get stuck unless you decide to go off-roading. That would be on you, and if that happens, you might get a bullet to the brain too.” He pointed to the right. “Follow that trail. We’ll park a few hundred feet in. The tree cover is pretty dense back there, so it’s a good place to ditch the car. Wave Antonio around us.”
Anthony rolled down the window and waved Antonio by. When they were side by side, Antonio lowered the passenger window. “What?”
“Go around us and park as far in as you can, and the deeper back, the better. Make sure you wipe down everything you’ve touched.”
Antonio nodded and continued on.
“How did your brother get so stupid?”
Anthony shrugged. “The old man put him to work at a young age. Antonio never went past the eighth grade. He’s big and bulky and Pops thought he’d be good at strong-arming people.”
“You’re just as big as Antonio.”
“Yeah, but my expertise is my brain.”
Carden laughed. “If you say so.”
Anthony killed the engine as they waited for Antonio. He looked back at the body lying behind them. “Where are we going to dump him?”
“We’ll find another secluded spot a few miles from here. Hopefully the coyotes will make short work of him.”
Antonio opened the back door and climbed in. “Jesus, the old man’s eyes are open.”
“You shot him, you deal with it,” Carden said. “Turn the van around, Anthony. Let’s go dump this body.”