Page 89 of Intent to Kill
He saw Paul’s shoulders tense and his eyes narrow before he saw why.
“Get down!” Paul whispered, grabbing Adam’s back to lead him low and crawling behind their car to shield themselves.
Another vehicle approached from up the street, driving right past them and through the mansion gates. The rumble of a high-powered engine and the bright orange color gave it away immediately.
“T.B.’s car?” Adam questioned. “They’re all supposed to be upstate.”
T.B.’s car idled through the gates, sun gleaming off the orange paint, and parked under the carport. T.B. stepped out, lighting up a cigarette and leaning against the edge of the car. He was too tense to be smoking casually. He was waiting for someone. Biding time.
Suddenly the front doors swung open, and Antonio came strolling down the steps carrying bundles of garden tools in each hand.
“What the fuck? Did you know he was in there?” Paul’s tense voice quivered.
Adam shook his head. He made sure to shelter his face as he peered over the hood, but he couldn’t look away from T.B. and Antonio.
T.B. plucked the tools from Antonio and loaded them into the trunk, which had been cleared like they’d been planning this trip for a while. Together, T.B. and Antonio disappeared into the car and roared away at speed.
As the orange muscle car passed them, Adam and Paul stood, hands shading their eyes from the sun.
“And where the hell are they going?” Paul asked casually as they watched the orange speck get smaller and smaller.
“I don’t know,” Adam said. “But let’s follow them and find out.”
They were off in a flash, driving fast to catch up with the orange speedster. Adam leveled off when he spotted T.B.’s car ahead, ostentatious and obvious, not a very smart getaway driver.
For the drive they kept a low profile, making sure to hang back as they tailed T.B. and Antonio through the streets of Ridge City. They went over the bridge, up the freeway, and around the outskirts of town, passing the industrial district until finally the car peeled from the main streets and started slowing.
Adam recognized the road.
“They’re going to the cemetery?”
“Paying respects to Yani?” Paul wondered aloud.
“No way, they all fucking hated each other,” Adam said.
Across the street from the cemetery, Adam stopped his car as they watched T.B.’s roll inside. He gave it space, knowing they’d need much more than just a few car lengths to not be detected when the cemetery was so bare.
Once they were far enough away, Adam drove again. From a few roads over they glued their eyes to the window as they rolled past where T.B. and Antonio had stopped, lingering over the trunk and emptying their tools.
“Shovels?” Paul raised his brows.
Adam frowned as he kept watching them but still, for the sake of safety, he did a short lap and pulled in around a distant garden row of epitaphs.
“What on earth are they doing?” Paul said.
Though it seemed an obvious next move, they both buckled in surprise as Antonio and T.B. took their shovels and began shoveling dirt from a grave. Ripping soil from the ground and carelessly shoving it into piles behind them.
Adam leaned into the backseat, fumbling around on the floor to find the binoculars he had left back there. When he found them, he wiped the dust off with his fingers before putting them to his eyes.
Squinting into the lens, he adjusted the focus, struggling to see the name written on the grave. The lens became blurry and then suddenly clear, and his vision settled ominously on the gravestone.
“Oh, fuck,” Adam said. Paul’s concerned glance cut his eyes, and he snatched the binoculars away as Adam’s low voice throttled again, “They’re digging me up.”
Antonio and T.B. made quick pace as they dug in front of the tombstone that read: R.I.P. Adam Vandemilio. 1962 - 1986.
16
IN THE NIGHT
