Chapter 9: Against All Odds
I looked at her hand, then at her face. She was a black widow spider, and this was her web. I was being played, manipulated from the moment she sat next to me at the bar. I knew it. But she was also the only person in this godforsaken town who had spoken a word of truth. I was out of options, a rat in a maze, and she was offering a way forward. Even if it led to a bigger trap.
I didn’t take her hand. “Fine,” I said. “But we do this my way.”
A slow smile spread across her face, and this time, it reached her eyes. “Of course, Jack,” she said. “Whatever you say.” I watched her walk away, the desert heat radiating off the asphalt, her blonde hair catching the sun like a beacon. The silence she left behind was more deafening than any gunshot, and the weight of her words settled in my gut like a stone. This wasn't just a missing persons case anymore; it was a war, and I had just enlisted.
The slow smile on Maddie’s face vanished as a black SUV, the kind that looks like it’s armored even when it’s not, screeched to a halt at the curb, blocking our path. The setting sun glinted off the tinted windows. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, two doors opened and a pair of men unfolded themselves onto the street. They weren't tourists. They were big, thick-necked, and moved with the brutal economy of men who are paid to be problems.
They walked toward us, their boots crunching on the gravel at the roadside. The one in the lead had a shaved head and a tattoo of a coiled serpent crawling up his neck. His eyes were small, flat, and empty. “Maddie Hicks,” he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. He ignored me completely. “You’re keeping bad company.”
“I'm a reporter, Frank,” Maddie said, her voice steady, but I saw her hands clench into fists at her sides. “I talk to everyone.”
“Not him,” the man, Frank, said. He finally turned his dead eyes on me. “You're the PI. The one who likes wandering into places he shouldn't.” He took another step, invading my space. The smell of stale sweat and cheap cigars rolled off him. “The ghosts in this town don't like being disturbed. You need to leave. Tonight.”
“I'll leave when my work is done,” I said, my voice quiet.
Frank’s lips twisted into something that wasn't a smile. “Your work is done.” He jabbed a thick finger into my chest, hard. “This is your only warning.”
I slapped his hand away. It was a reflex, the part of me that doesn't know how to back down. His eyes widened slightly, surprised I’d dared. His partner started to move, but Frank held up a hand, stopping him. He looked from me to Maddie, then back again. “Big mistake,” he grunted.
He didn't throw a punch. He did something worse. He turned, and with a sudden, vicious speed, backhanded Maddie across the face. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet street. She staggered back, a red mark blooming on her cheek, but her eyes blazed with a fury so cold it was terrifying.
Before I could react, before the rage boiling in my chest could translate into action, they were already walking back to the SUV. They hadn't come for a fight. They had come to deliver a message. To show me that they could get to anyone, that my presence put her in danger. That they played by no rules.
The SUV peeled out, leaving a cloud of dust and the ringing silence behind. I took a step toward Maddie, my hands clenched. “Are you okay?”
She touched her cheek, her gaze fixed on the spot where the vehicle had disappeared. She didn't look at me. “Now you see,” she said, her voice low and shaking with controlled rage. “Now you see what we're up against.”