ALL BELL BREAKS LOOSE (A Samantha Bell Mystery Thriller Book 7) by Jeremy Waldron

Author:Jeremy Waldron [Waldron, Jeremy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixty-Two

Mr. T exited the house from the side door and immediately hid behind a large ponderosa pine. He looked up and down the street to be sure nobody was looking, then peeked his head around the side of the tree to look up into the second-story window. The glare reflected like a mirror making it impossible to see inside. His gut, and the voices inside his head, told him he was being watched.

Move. Now! they screamed.

He tucked his chin and thrust his shoulders back as he hurried to the driveway pavement, pulling the hem of the dress up at his feet as he weaved past the Jeep Wrangler, heading toward his car. A second later, he opened the door to the Dodge Challenger and quickly settled in behind the steering wheel where he angled the rearview to his face. Feeling secure inside the vehicle, Mr. T took his time when fixing his hair. When he was finished touching up his appearance, he slid his shades over his eyes and revved the engine.

The vibrations of the engine tickled his insides, and Mr. T was feeling perky as he backed out of the drive. He laughed and punched the gas, getting the tires to squeal as he raced away from the house.

The wind was in his hair, and the autumn air made his blood pump hot. He was livid, knowing he’d been discovered, and relieved to be running from his problems. How could he trust that word wouldn’t get out about what he’d been up to? He couldn’t, and that was the worst feeling of all.

Mr. T’s world was spiraling out of control. He was no longer piloting his story. He’d have to change tactics if he wanted to continue working on his script. He also had to find a way to keep an eye on this new variable that seemed to come out of the blue, like most villains did.

Dig deep into his past. Find his dirt and blackmail him into keeping his mouth shut, the voices inside his head told him.

Mr. T tilted his head and brought his hand to his kinked neck. Blackmailing White Stallion sounded much easier than having to add his name to a growing list of murders. But would it last? Or was that only a temporary solution?

Suddenly, a dog ran across the road and Mr. T’s eyes widened with surprise. His thoughts flashed back to his near-collision last night near Vogue Apartments, but instead of slamming on the brakes and playing it safe, he hit the gas and accelerated toward the slobbering beast, narrowly clipping his hind legs. A roar of laughter ripped past his lips, and Mr. T tightened his grip on the steering wheel and straightened his tires before appearing to be too out of control.

“White Stallion. What a stupid name,” he grumbled. “At least Trojan had meaning. Trojan, the computer malware, the one that shares the orbit of a larger one. And now the one who is constantly getting screwed.”

He drove like a madman and swerved just for the hell of it.

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