Page 35 of Justice for Aleta

Three calls. From Dax. And a text message. It was only two letters:UC.

“Come on. We’ve got to get inside now.” Jack took off at a run, almost dragging Aleta behind him, and hit the back porch full stride. When he threw the door open, he knew.

Someone was in the house.

Spinning to look at her, he held his finger up to his lips and pointed to the laundry room.In there. Now. Stay there, he mouthed, and he waited until she was in the room and he’d heard the lock engage with aclick. Pulling his newly-returned Glock, he made his way silently through the house. The dining room was clear, but when he slid into the living room, he’d barely cleared the door when he felt something against his neck.

“Don’t move. Now, slowly, put the gun down,” the voice ordered. In a practiced downward motion, Jack moved to lay the gun on the floor, then kicked it away himself. “Good.”

Every instinct went into overdrive. “What do you want?”

“I understand you now have someone who knows what a particular person looks like. We thought she was dead, but she’s not. We’ve been tracking her for the last few days, and we know she’s here. I need to talk to her,” the man growled in Jack’s right ear.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“You don’t get to say what you want, trooper. Just give me the woman.”

“I thought you wanted to know about the particular person,” Jack said, using the gunman’s own terminology.

“That’s what I said.”

“What if I had a picture you could take with you?”

The guy let out a sinister chuckle. “Then I’d say I really don’t need to talk to her. Don’t double-cross me. From this point on, there’s no room for error, trooper.”

“From this point on, if you get him first, you save me a lot of grief. It’s in my top desk drawer.”

“Walk. Slowly. Don’t try anything,” the guy warned. As he inched across the room, Jack scanned the front windows. Sure enough, there was someone on the front porch. His gunman had a lookout. Great?just fucking great. When they reached the desk, the man bumped the side of Jack’s neck with the gun’s barrel. “Where is it?”

“Right here.” Jack’s hands were up in the air, but he slowly reached down and pulled the drawer open with his fingertips. “It’s right there. That folded piece of paper.”

“Get it, but no funny stuff.”

Jack reached for it, pulled it out, and held it in his raised hands. The man snatched it and unfolded it. “That’s him. BlakeMoss. They call him?”

“That fucker. Poser. I know him. He’s…” The man stopped suddenly. “On the floor. Face down. Don’t move.” Jack was confused. The guy was doing something on the surface of the desk, but he couldn’t tell what. In seconds, the movement stopped and he leaned down toward Jack. “Count to fifty before you move.” Then he leaned even closer and whispered something curious: “Burn it after I’m gone.” Jack listened as the thug’s footsteps receded, the front door opened and closed, and the sound of a vehicle filled the air.Fuck, they turned up while I had the bike running!He wouldn’t make that mistake again, that was damn sure.

Everything went silent, but Jack lay there for another two minutes, just to be certain. When he was positive they were gone, he climbed up out of the floor and was planning to head for the laundry room, but he glanced at the surface of the desk. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. It was a piece of paper with two letters scrawled on it.

UC

“Fuck me,” Jack mumbled as he ran to the laundry room. “Babe, unlock the door. It’s me. I’m alone. It’s safe. Come on out.”

Aleta’s face appeared in the crack of the opening when the door swung back. “Jack?”

“Sugar, it’s okay. They’re gone.”

“Who was that? I could hear them talking to you, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying.” Her hands were trembling on the doorknob, and he knew she was terrified.

Jack sighed. “The Menendez cartel now has a picture of BlakeMoss.” Pulling his phone from his pocket, he hit Dax’s contact.

It was answered with, “Where the fuck were you?”

“We were in the barn. Before you say anything?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay.”

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