Page 97 of One Final Target

He righted the truck but then came another ram. This time George lost it. The truck careened into the guardrail on the right, then jerked back to the left. It seemed to teeter on two wheels before twisting around and slamming into the side of the mountain. The airbags deployed, stunning Jodie.

Vaguely she felt George moving. He undid his seat belt, reached for the door, and shoved it open. Jodie pushed the airbag away and reached for her own gun.

Two gunshots sounded.

Jodie couldn’t open her door; it was jammed by the crash. She tried to slide across the seat and exit the way George had and found a gun shoved into her face.

“Sorry it has to be this way. Drop the gun, Jodie.”

She looked up to see Uncle Jonah, wearing the coldest expression Jodie had ever seen.

“Why—?”

“No time. Drop it now.”

Jodie let her gun clatter to the street. Jonah grabbed her arm and jerked her across the driver’s seat and out of the truck. She hit the ground on her knees, scraping them. Before she could do anything, Jonah yanked her to her feet and dragged her to his vehicle—an older boxy blue Jeep Cherokee. The front end was smoking and dented but the engine was still running.

George was on the ground in the middle of the street. Dead or alive, she couldn’t tell.

“George!” Jodie tried to pull toward him, but Jonah pulled harder and slammed her into the side of the Jeep.

“You and Tara messed everything up,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “I had the perfect plan.”

He twisted her hands behind her back and applied handcuffs, then opened the back door, picked her up, and threw her across the seat.

“What do you mean? What does Tara have to do with this?”

“Stay still and be quiet,” Jonah ordered. He tossed a blanket over her.

He slammed the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. Jodie felt the vehicle turn, then accelerate, and she guessed they were headed back up the mountain on Highway18.

“What is wrong with you?” With her hands behind her back, it was difficult to stay in one place on the seat. Sliding around only made her angrier.

“I told you to be quiet.”

“Jonah, I’ve known you my whole life. You’ve tried to kill me three times?”

Jonah said nothing.

“Why? I’ve always considered you fam—”

“It’s not about you. It’s about so much more!” There was anger and pain in his voice. Jodie thought she heard a break.

“Please tell me. If this is about money, we can sol—”

“It’s about payback and pain. It’s about Saint Mike feeling the same kind of pain I felt when Jason died. It’s about Gus and Mike getting their just rewards after they both stabbed me in the back. Maybe your uncle should explain. I’ve invited him up here for theparty. Until he gets here, I’m not going to say it again. Shut. Up.” He turned on the radio, loud, blasting heavy metal music.

Angry and heart broken in disbelief, wrists aching, Jodie let her head fall back as she tried to think. Earsplitting strains of Def Leppard did not help.

Had he already killed Sam? Was George dead?

Jodie prayed Sam and George were okay. Under the blanket she worked to slip the cuffs. She was limber enough to switch them from back to front but being on the back seat of a moving car would make it difficult. And she didn’t know how closely Jonah was watching in the rearview mirror or if he could even see her. The blanket then slipped off and onto the floorboard. Jodie sat up. They were traveling on Highway18 toward Big Bear, she thought. She saw Jonah’s hard stare in the rearview mirror.

Slipping the cuffs was her only chance. Handcuffed in front, she could better defend herself. Then Jonah made a sharp left, and Jodie nearly flew off the seat. He’d gone off road.

As uncomfortable as all the bumping and rocking was, it was to her advantage because Jonah would not notice her moving around. She bent her knees to work the cuffs under her feet and bring her hands under and forward.

It wasn’t long before the music gave her a headache. Jodie’s wrists ached and bled; the rough ride was making it difficult to get the cuffs off. She bit her bottom lip, grunted, and with a final effort, bent her knees as far as she could, squeezed the chain under her feet, and jerked the cuffs in front of her, then lost her balance and rolled off the seat onto the floor. It felt like her whole body was getting beaten and bruised by the bouncing around in the back seat of the Jeep.

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