Page 34 of Ransom
"You'll see what I tell you to see, son. Don't leave early," he said. "Be rude."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
He took the toothpick out of his mouth, flicked it onto the floor at my feet, and walked back toward the theater entrance.
I stood there in the hallway, looking at Castillo's picture on the wall, at his grin, at the date stamp that put him here hours before somebody dragged him to death. Sorry, Roy, I thought, and I meant it. You ate the burrito. You earned the wall. You did not earn the rest of it.
Then I went back to the table.
Rafe needed to know we'd been made. And Rafe needs to explain a couple of things, I thought, which he's not going to enjoy.
Winston was halfway through his burger. He looked up when I sat down, took in my face, and set the burger down.
"We're leaving," I said. "Now."
"What happened?"
"Got the picture. Castillo's on the wall. Dated two days before we found him." I kept my voice low. "One of Rex's guys intercepted me in the hallway. Told me not to leave early."
Winston cut a look to the security along the walls, then back to me.
"Then we stay," he said. "We don't give them a reason to cause trouble."
"No." I stood up. "We're not doing this on their terms. We're leaving."
"Ransom."
"Now."
I walked toward the exit without looking back to see if Winston was following. Every instinct I had was screaming to get out, getto the truck, get back on Pae Saco land where I knew the terrain and the people.
Winston fell into step beside me, his hand close to his hip where his sidearm was holstered. We pushed through the double doors into the gift shop. A few tourists browsed the merchandise. Cassidy looked up from her podium, surprised.
"Y'all leaving already? Show's not over."
"Emergency," Winston said, smooth. "Thanks for everything."
We walked out into the night.
The parking lot was half-empty. Most people were still inside to watch the finale. Our truck sat under a light at the far end, right where we'd left it.
Otis stood at the driver's door with two of his men flanking the truck.
The other two were big, and armed. Otis pushed off the door when he saw us, and he put his toothpick back in the corner of his mouth like he'd been waiting for us and intended to enjoy the wait.
"Well," Winston said quietly. "Guess they got the message."
We walked toward the truck. My heartbeat was loud in my ears, but I kept my pace steady. Winston stayed beside me, his hand still near his gun.
The damage showed as we got closer. There was a long key scratch down the passenger side. The driver's side mirror bent at the wrong angle.
"Leaving early?" Otis said.
"Got what we came for."
"That right?" He worked the toothpick across his mouth. "Shame about the truck. Parking lots are dangerous."
"We'll get it fixed," Winston said calmly. "If you boys could just step aside, we'll be on our way."
