Photo Copyright: Georgia Koch
The money was moved to a new duffel; before, they switched cars and headed south.
She sat silent, until twenty minutes past Atlanta, Georgia.
Brandi said, “I’m still mad, but…I remember the metal ramp from the picture.”
“It’s High Falls Lake in Forsyth, Georgia. My dad took me there every summer.”
“Is it a resort?”
“No, and don’t laugh. We went there to fish. I hated being in that boat. It was so boring.”
“There’s a painting of a boat in the rental office. Painted in eighteen-fourteen by the original owner.”
“Sure, that you remember.”
Photo Copyright: Jan Wayne Fields
David knocked on the door three times before it opened.
A Latin beauty in a skintight black dress said, “He’s expecting you. Please wait by the window.”
With his attention on her David never noticed the two men, until a muzzle poked his back.
The man facing him said, “If you don’t have my merchandise, I’ll torture you and your girlfriend in Starbucks, before you die.”
David said, “It’s in the duffel.”
The man unzipped it to reveal an ancient statue of a Roman solider. He handed David a briefcase and said, “Leave.”
The bullet he expected never came.
Photo copyright – Jean L. Hays
David parked in between two spaces in front of Starbucks.
“Why are we in Illinois? Please tell me, we’re not here for a tour of Route 66,” said Brandi.
David responded, “No sightseeing. I need to make a delivery.”
“What are we delivering?”
“We’re not. I am. You’re going to get a coffee and wait.”
With an icy glare Brandi said, “The hell I am.”
“Brandi, The guy I’m meeting doesn’t care for strangers.”
“He’ll have to get over it.”
“No, he’ll kill you. Wait here.”
David grabbed the duffel from the backseat. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”