The Finish (The Eliminator Series Book 12) by Mike Ryan (motivational novels for students TXT) 📗

Franks smiled. “Perks of the position, man. Perks of the position. But good luck with that. Hope you catch something.”

“I’m sure we will,” Jacobs said. “Just hope it’s not a bag of air.”

18

Jacobs and Thrower were sitting outside the former pharmacy, albeit in two different spots. Jacobs was in the car, watching the front, while Thrower was keeping tabs on the back, nestled in some bushes that were behind the property. They were the only two ways in, and they couldn’t see both from one vantage point, so they had to split up.

They’d been there for about an hour, and Jacobs was already frustrated, though he was to start with. He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers as he watched the parking lot. There were only a handful of cars left there at this time of night, and all of them seemed to be empty.

Jacobs and Thrower were in constant communication with each other, letting the other know if a car drove by, or a person was seen walking near, though nothing of interest came to fruition.

“How much longer you wanna give this?” Thrower asked.

“Ready to give up already?”

“No, just wondering.”

“I dunno,” Jacobs said. “We’re here. As much as I think it’s a waste of time, we might as well give it a chance. Couple hours, maybe?”

“Works for me.”

“How are things in those bushes? Getting attacked by bears or wolves yet?”

Thrower laughed. “I did hear a few growling sounds.”

“Probably your stomach.”

“Might have been. Next time, you get the bushes and I get the car.”

“I guess that’s a deal, though I’d prefer if there weren’t a next time.”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to wrap this thing up now, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” Jacobs replied. “I don’t think we’re going to be that lucky, though.”

They continued to wait. Another hour went by, and there wasn’t a sign of anything. Even the cars stopped driving by.

“Hey, Brett.”

Jacobs wiped his groggy eyes. “Yeah?”

“You’re not gonna believe this.”

“You found a bear?”

“No, but I did find someone coming out the back door right now.”

Jacobs immediately perked up. “What?”

“There’s a guy coming out the back door right now.”

Jacobs’ eyes went to the front door. There was no activity there. “Who is he?”

“Don’t know. Don’t recognize him. He’s locking up right now.”

“Strange. Should we follow him and see where he’s going, or find out what he’s doing in there?”

Jacobs had to quickly think. He thought the odds of this person leading them to Mallette right then and there were probably pretty low. But there was obviously a reason for him being in that building. And Jacobs was curious what it was.

“Let’s grab him,” Jacobs said.

Thrower emerged from the bushes, heading for the man who was starting to walk away by now. There was another car, further down the alley, behind the group of stores that he was walking toward. Jacobs put his car in drive and zoomed behind the back of the building. He drove around Thrower and the other man, cutting the guy off as he turned his car to the side.

As the man saw Jacobs’ maneuver and Jacobs getting out of the car, he stopped, worried about what might be happening. He quickly turned around, but before he was able to move, he saw Thrower walking in his direction. He knew he was in trouble, though probably not for the reason he was thinking.

The man was in his late fifties, with a coarse beard and a full head of gray hair. He was thin, and even in his early days, wasn’t much of a fighter. So if these men cornering him wanted a scrap, he wasn’t likely to put up much of a fight.

As Jacobs and Thrower started to close in on him, the man knew he only had one option. Run. And he did. He took off, splitting between Jacobs and Thrower, heading for the little stretch of trees and bushes behind the center. He hoped he could get there and slow down his pursuers long enough for him to slip away.

Unfortunately, as much as he wasn’t a fighter, he wasn’t much of a runner either. He’d never had much speed to begin with, and he was slower than both of the guys chasing him. Thrower grabbed him by the back of the shirt, just before they hit the trees. As Thrower turned him around, the man immediately put his arms up, breathing heavily from his brief exertion.

“Listen, I didn’t do nothin’. Tell Rich I didn’t do nothin’.”

Thrower immediately looked at Jacobs; both were a little surprised to hear Mallette’s name, especially right away. But it was a good start. It let them know right off the bat that they had something here. Now they just had to ask the right questions.

From the way the man was talking, he assumed Mallette had sent them. Jacobs saw no reason to change that. They needed to play along.

“You know the reason we’re here?” Jacobs asked, talking tough.

“Tell Rich I didn’t do it. Honest. I didn’t do it.”

Jacobs looked around, pretending like he was worried about onlookers, even though there was nobody else out there. “Let’s go back inside.”

“No, please.”

“Let’s go back inside, and maybe you can convince us we don’t need to be here.”

The man glanced at the both of them, a look of fear in his eyes, then he nodded. The fact that he was still alive was a good sign. “OK. OK.”

As they walked back to the building, the man out front, Jacobs had to get some answers without making it seem like he was an outsider. If he made it sound like he had no idea what was going on, the man might clam up.

“What’s your name, anyway?” Jacobs asked.

“You don’t know?”

“Mallette don’t tell us anything. He just tells us where to go and what to do. Doesn’t always give us the details.”

“Oh. My name’s Lee.”

They finally reached the back door.

“Open it up,” Thrower said. Lee got out his keys and opened the door. “You