Tinker's Revenge: A Vigilante Justice Crime Thriller (A Jake Tinker Thriller Book 2) by J.K. Hopkins

Author:J.K. Hopkins [Hopkins, J.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stone Canyon Publishing
Published: 2024-01-08T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 29

Suspecting that Randy’s house was under surveillance, I departed the compound at 9:17 a.m., Sunday, driving a Range Rover Sentinel. Normally difficult to differentiate from its utilitarian cousin, the heavily-armored vehicle was riddled with bullet dings from its last outing, making it impossible to miss. It was perfect for what I had in mind.

Exiting the private Hillcrest Lane onto the city streets, it didn’t take long to pick up a tail, a black Yukon that faded in and out of view. Even from a distance, the driver was recognizable, someone I hadn’t seen since Jamaica, the bandage on his finger giving him away. Within minutes, I entered the heart of Bellavista, waiting for him to mark my position before turning into the Guardian Alarm Co. headquarters, pulling into the garage and closing the door. “You can come out now,” I said, pressing the button to lift the rear hatch, allowing him to climb out. “He’s parked out front, across the street.”

“Right in front of the bakery,” he said, leading the way inside to his private office where he had a bank of monitors displaying the exterior, including a shot of the Yukon. “He’ll have coffee and pastries to keep him occupied while you’re elsewhere.”

“Just keep an eye on him,” I said, heading out the back way, “and let me know if he decides to bug out. It’s imperative that he not know my whereabouts for the next couple of hours.”

Twenty minutes later, I pulled up to the Dreyfuss estate for my meeting with Robert Gonzales. Having driven one of Randy’s white Guardian vans, I pulled the brim of my baseball cap lower, wanting to get inside without anyone recognizing me. After making certain the mirror-mounted cameras were working, I pressed the buzzer and waited for the gates to swing open. “How’s it on your end?” I asked, using an earbud synced with a secure two-way radio. “Are you recording?”

“The exterior of this joint is sealed up unusually tight,” he said, toggling the videocams to capture every angle, “and that makes me all the more curious as to exactly what he’s got locked up in there.”

“It’s likely extremely valuable but uninsurable,” I said, referencing the lax nature most of our clients had regarding securing their artwork and other collections, “which fits with what we’re looking for ... or he genuinely fears for his life when he’s in residence.”

“This prick doesn’t fear anyone,” he said, a vicious edge creeping into his voice, “but that’s about to change.”

With Randy having been uncharacteristically calm since returning to Bellavista, I knew a rage was building inside of him like steam in a pressure cooker, and it was only a matter of time before he exploded. When that happened, someone would be in for a world of hurt, so the trick was to get him to detonate at a specific time and place. “Don’t go knocking any heads without me,” I said, slowly making my way down the long driveway that wound its way through several acres of lush landscaping.

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