Chapter 11

The police officers from the precinct that had called in Brooke’s car were about as useful as tits on a bull. Terry slammed the door to his van shut, and the vehicle rocked back and forth from his violent entrance. He reached around for his laptop and set it on the dashboard. He lit a cigarette waiting for it to boot up, and when it did, he entered Brooke’s information.

He knew exactly where she was going: her sister’s house in North Carolina. That’s the trajectory she’d been on since she left Dallas, and by now she was already there. He entered her sister’s married name into Google, and Daniel’s name popped up. Terry clicked on the link to his congressional page and scrolled down.

The cloud of smoke filled the van’s cabin, giving everything around Terry a gray haze. He gently squeezed his hand. His knuckles were still bruised from the beating he had given Brooke’s friend Dave.

“Stupid bitch,” Terry mumbled.

The open cuts along his hands stung, but another puff of the cigarette, and he could feel the pain recede. He rested his head back and closed his eyes.

“So your sister’s husband is a Congressman. That’s what you’re hoping for. A little political favor.”

Terry spent the next twenty minutes reading the congressman’s political views, his background, campaign funds, committees served on, and education background. From what Terry could gather based off of his own findings, the man was clean—or just good at covering up his tracks.

If this woman was planning on using family, then there wasn’t a high probability that the family would turn her in. Family was loyal, protective… stupid. All he had to do was find a pressure point, and someone would cave. His money was on the husband. Terry just needed to find something on him.

The phone Terry carried was an old brick. Nothing like the smart phones used today, but he only needed it for one thing: to make calls. He scrolled down and dialed the number of a man he knew in DC. If anyone would have any dirt on a congressman, it would be this guy.

Terry’s relationship with his contact wasn’t a cheerful one. It wasn’t even professional. He’d only done a handful of transactions with him. The price was always steep, but the last job Terry did gained him some favor.

The phone continued to ring until the voicemail picked up. Terry snapped his phone shut and tossed it on the dash. That’s the way it normally went. His contact never picked up on the first call. He’d always have to wait until the call back before anything happened.

The dash vibrated as the phone buzzed. Terry reached for the phone and stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray.

“I need some information,” Terry said, ignoring the pleasantries.

“Now’s not a good time.”

“It’s never a good time when one of us calls the other. That’s part of the relationship.”

“What is it?”

“I need some dirt on a congressman.”

“Which one?”

“Daniel Hunter.”

The other end of the line went silent. Terry waited, wondering if the call had been disconnected.

“Hello?” Terry asked.

“What business do you have with him?”

“He’s not the mark, but he’s harboring an illegal.”

“Who?”

“Santa Claus. What does it matter who it is? Just send me the info. Consider it back pay for the last job.”

Terry ended the call and looked back at the picture of Congressman Hunter on his laptop. He brought his massive index finger up and tapped the screen.

“You’re about to have a very bad day.”