Page 64 of Deadfall

He moved the toothpick in his mouth around to the other side, glanced briefly down at the gun in disinterest and put the truck into drive.

“Sanctuary.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure no cars were coming. “Damn Sacha and his fucking code words,” he grumbled as he pulled away from the curb.

I still hadn’t put the gun away, but the man didn’t seem phased.

“How do you know Sacha?” I asked.

“Known the old bastard for years. I do his supply runs,” the man answered.

That surprised me. He looked back down at the gun I still had pointed at him.

“You gonna put that away and tell me where you want me to drop you?” I scowled, but shoved the gun back in my hip holster. “And buckle your seat belt, Jesus."

I clicked the belt into place. I’d thought long and hard about where I wanted to be driven, but it was more of a specific type of person I hoped to connect with.

“Do you know a tech guy you could put me in touch with?”

“What kind of tech guy?”

“Someone who is good with computers.”

The man gave me another once over. “How old are you?”

I crossed my arms. “None of your fucking business. Do you know someone or not?”

He took a minute to reply, one arm slung over the top of the wheel as his other hand fiddled with the toothpick.

“Yeah, I know a guy.” He glanced over again. “I thought Sacha lived alone.”

He made it sound like an accusation.

“Wouldn’t you know if you did Sacha’s supply drops?”

The man grunted. “I’m not his personal shopper.”

The silence filled the cab of the truck for another stretch of road.

“He’s dead, isn’t he,” the man said flatly.

My lips thinned. “Why would you say that?”

“Answer the question.”

I gave a curt nod. The man’s knuckles grew white on the wheel and a dark look came over his face.

“You kill him?”

“What?” I exclaimed. “No!”

“How’d he die then?” He asked.

I frowned out the front window, not at all enthused about being forced to talk about it.

“Men came in a helicopter,” I said.

“Who were they?”

“How should I know?”