Reorient by E.H. Reinhard

Author:E.H. Reinhard [Reinhard, E.H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Clay stood in the basement and looked over the freezers. He sipped his morning coffee. After arriving home without incident the evening before, he’d parked the stolen truck in the shop. Clay shook his head as he thought. He should have buried the bodies. Maybe he should have gotten rid of them one at a time. He should have opened a crematorium before he even started working in the area. He simply should have done something, anything other than what he had done. But there was no putting the toothpaste back in the tube. The truck he’d crashed was registered to a shell company with a phony address, so that would buy him some time, but sooner or later, someone would figure out enough and come knocking. He had a few days, maybe a week, but Clay had left blood in the truck after the accident—and if any DNA test was run, the feds would be swarming the area. They’d find something that would inevitably lead them to Clay’s doorstep.

The sound of his phone ringing upstairs caught his ear—presumably Paul again. Clay imagined that he or someone from their organization had caught something on the news. He figured that someone from the funeral home had reported that he never showed with the bodies. Clay pulled in a big breath and walked up the stairs to get the ringing phone. Halfway to the top, he heard the intercom buzzing that someone was at the front gate.

“Son of a bitch,” Clay mumbled. He scooped up the tablet from the table beside his sofa and brought up the cameras. He saw a black SUV at the gate—Paul. “What the hell.” Clay set his coffee down, went to the intercom, and hit the button to speak. “Yeah.”

“Is something wrong with your phone?” Paul asked.

The question didn’t sit right in Clay’s ears. Paul’s tone was all wrong, authoritative, like somehow Clay answered to him.

“No. It’s been ringing all morning,” Clay said. “I chose to not answer it.”

“Whatever. We need to talk. Right now,” Paul said.

Clay heard multiple voices in the background—it seemed that Paul had again brought muscle.

“Yeah.” Clay hit the button to open the gate, immediately went to the closet near the front door, and pulled the door open. Clay had a standing gun safe inside the closet. He punched in the six-digit code and swung open the big heavy door. Clay’s eyes went over his firearms. In the long-arm section of the safe sat a pair of AR15s, one pistol, one rifle, and another AR platform pistol chambered in 9mm. Clay locked eyes on the AR15 chambered in 300 Blackout. With the suppressor and subsonic rounds, the short-barreled rifle was whisper quiet. Clay could take out Paul and his goons in two seconds without a single neighbor hearing a peep and being any wiser. Clay shook his head. He didn’t know if he was at that point yet. Clay’s hand went to the shelf in the safe. He slid out his internal waistband holster, complete with Glock 19 and an extra magazine.

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