Samantha by Sharon Srock

Author:Sharon Srock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sharon Srock
Published: 2017-09-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHICK WRESTLED THE wheel of the van as the tires spun on a patch of ice. Way to keep a low profile. One quick drive-by on his way to dinner, and the skirt comes out the front door. The tires found traction on the asphalt, and he loosened his grip a bit. "This thing sure don't handle like my Charger." His statement was a mutter as he looked in the rearview mirror. Did she see me? It didn't really matter. The van might handle like a brick on wheels, but the nondescript color and design made it hard to track. With that stingy bit of praise barely out of his mind, the van died. He pounded his hands on the wheel in frustration. That was three times in the last week. He coasted to the curb, slammed the gearshift into park, and turned the key. Nothing.

He did a slow count to ten and tried the key again. The van purred to life. I have got to get this thing looked at. He couldn't do his job with an unpredictable vehicle.

A hungry grumble from his stomach pushed thoughts of the van from his mind and prompted him to look at the clock in the battered dashboard. Way past dinner time. He snorted. "And the choices are so plentiful in this dumpy little town." He was sick of eating out, sicker of alternating three meals a day between the limited choices available. He might not be a gourmet chef, but he knew his way around a kitchen, and he couldn't wait to get back to the one in his Vegas apartment.

A drive down Garfield's main street produced no interesting options. I'll be glad when this gig is over. A defeated sigh accompanied his decision. He turned the corner and headed for the golden arches just visible over the tops of the naked trees.

The parking lot was full this time of the evening, forcing him to circle the building twice before a slot opened up big enough to accommodate his oversized vehicle. The door of the van hit the car parked next to him. He shrugged at the white mark it left on the red paint of the SUV. They shouldn't park so close to the line. He leaned back into the van to retrieve his phone and the newspaper, scraping the red SUV a second time.

Chick stood in line with whining kids and frazzled adults. He kept his head down, shuffling forward when he could. His faded blue jeans and tan shirt made him as unremarkable as the van. One key to success in this business was the ability to blend into the background. He took his tray from the perky teenager behind the counter, paid in cash, and scoped out a booth. He unwrapped the first of two cheeseburgers and dumped the large order of fries onto a napkin. His shoulders slumped on a long exhale. The food held no appeal. Tonight, his meal was more about fuel than enjoyment.

While he chewed, Chick punched Nancy boy's number on the cell phone.

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