22

Andrew

Fuck. It’s not Johnathan’s fault that Amy got away, but I can’t help wishing he had a thicker fucking skull.

As soon as he was able to get to a phone he called me, and thank the fucking devil himself I was so damn close to the house. Whatever Amy fucking thinks this will accomplish though is beyond me. Putting herself in jeopardy now will only put Abigail in further jeopardy.

Thank fuck for being able to track another person’s phone. “Give me your password Johnathan.”

“Fuck, capital J one tits.”

“J one tits?” What the fuck?

“Yeah…”

“Alright, thanks.”

Hanging up with him, I call Simon next. “Track Johnathan’s phone.”

Giving him the details on the phone, I wait as I hear him typing into something. “Got it. You aren’t too far from her. She’s heading west on Old Mill road.”

“Got it, now lock in on my phone and see if there’s an opportunity to intercept her.”.

There’s too much silence right now, I need to try to reach her. “I have to try calling her. I’ll call right back.”

“Okay.”

Dialing Amy five times is killing me. Each time she doesn’t answer, I feel my heart sinking lower and lower. This is such a stupid fucking move on her part. I know she wants to protect Abigail, but we have to do this the right way or it all goes fucking wrong.

Not getting an answer, I call Simon back. “No answer.”

“Okay, you should be able to get behind her at Old Mill and Harper,” Simon says through the phone. “But you need to hurry.”

Pushing the pedal down to the floor, I fly through a couple of greenlights. Thank fuck something is going my way today. My daughter kidnapped… that stupid fucking principal… Paul dying.

This fucking day is one I would happily remove from memory.

Ahead of me, I see a long line of red tail lights stopped at a red light. Shit. Coming to a slow halt in the Mercedes, Simon bursts through the line. “She just went through the intersection. You need to hurry up.”

“Fuck!” Slamming the pedal back down while whipping the wheel to the left, I start racing up the wrong side of the yellow line. My hands slip the wheel again as I come to the red light in the intersection.

I slam on the breaks, and a car narrowly missing my nose as I take a fast left.

“You need to hurry up, she just turned into a shopping center.”

“Shit, I bet it’s a meet up. Probably called Ivan.”

“That would be my first guess since she has made only one call since taking Johnathan’s phone.”

“Can you track the phone?” I ask as I try pushing through another intersection but the traffic has me dead in my tracks.

I’m completely unable to find a lane to slip in.

“I already have, it’s in a car waiting in the shopping center.”

Fuck, that’s good.

“Okay, where’s my turn off?”

“Andrew, hear me out on something.”

“Simon…” I growl in warning. I have no time or desire to play a single fucking game right now.

“Follow them, Andrew. It’s a safer bet on getting Abigail back without as much trouble than if you go in right now, guns blazing. They might be able to get away, and then we’re at square one again.”

Sweat breaks out on my forehead as I move the car to the left and squeeze past an old lady who rightly gives me the middle finger.

Pushing the pedal back down, the large motor roars as I move through the intersection.

“Andrew, think about…”

“Shut the fuck up!” I yell. “I’ll do it, just fucking shut up.”

The line goes silent as I slow the car down. It takes all my control not to push the pedal down. To not race after Amy.

“You want me to do this for the intel don’t you?” I ask between clenched teeth.

“Of course, but it’s also the best strategy we currently have. I don’t have a team in your area of town. The closest right now is thirty minutes out.”

“I’m not going to back off of them, Simon.”

“I know. Pull up into the parking lot directly across from the shopping center, it should have a pizza place. Park there to get a good view of who exits and leaves.”

Taking a right into the parking lot, I back into a slot next to a minivan.

I don’t have to wait long though before Simon urgently says, “Move now, the car’s taking a right out of the shopping center.”

Shit. There are three cars pulling out but only one has the look that I’m willing to bet my life on. Tinted windows on a new Lincoln. From what I can see, there are two men in the front but I’m not sure about the back.

Following them in my car isn’t too hard. They aren’t fleeing the area and the traffic is heavy enough that I can be easily confused as just another motorist.

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