Creep - Jennifer Hillier [104]
Finally Morris’s curiosity got the better of him. “Okay, what information?”
“That white dude, his name is Wolfe.”
“And that means what to me?” Jerry was staring hard at the homeless man.
“He a hunter. You best watch yourself before he hunts you.”
“And you know this how?” Morris asked.
“I just know,” the man said with a shrug, backing away from the car. He lifted up his tattered shirt and scratched his stomach with soiled hands. “And his woman? The pretty white girl he with?”
“What about her?” Jerry asked.
“She the leader of the pack.”
“Hey—” Morris called out, but by the time he got out of the Honda, the man had disappeared.
Ethan rode just under the speed limit, taking comfort in Abby’s arms wrapped tight around his waist. In the bike’s side mirror, the unevenly dulled lights of the black Honda Accord finally caught up to him. His stalkers had guessed his route correctly, and knew he was heading home. Clearly the big black dude and Morris the fat fuck weren’t going to give up.
Ethan had first noticed the car idling by the curb as he and Abby were leaving for the soup kitchen. He had no idea how long they’d been following him, which bothered him. It meant he wasn’t paying attention, and that was not good. He’d been losing focus. The drive to Lake Stevens and back every day, often twice a day, was taking its toll and he wasn’t sleeping. But that was no excuse for getting sloppy.
Ethan couldn’t see their faces, but he could imagine the two men sitting inside that ugly car, talking about him, talking about Sheila, thinking they were onto something by following his every move. They were persistent fuckers, he’d give them that. It might have been flattering had it not been so completely inconvenient.
He dropped Abby off at the apartment, explaining that he had some work to finish up. She hopped off the bike and pecked him on the cheek.
She wouldn’t wait up. She never did.
On the highway, Ethan accelerated and moved into the passing lane. Sure enough, the Honda sped up behind him. There was only one place to lead them to, only one place where things could happen the way he needed them to with the least amount of risk.
Let them come.
It was what he’d built his kill room for.
CHAPTER : 34
The vintage Triumph took the exit off I-5 for Highway 204. Jerry followed suit, his face scrunched in concentration as he carefully wove his way through the light traffic. Rain was making the road slick, and Ethan Wolfe wasn’t going slowly.
“This guy’s nuts.” The PI had not taken his eyes off the bike’s taillight. “Who drives a motorcycle in this weather?”
“Rides,” Morris corrected. “You don’t drive a motorcycle, you ride it.”
“Whatever. The kid has a death wish.”
Morris looked out the window, but the Honda’s tinted glass made it too dark to see much of anything. “I think we’re in Lake Stevens. I haven’t been here in years.”
“It’s a nice area. Me and Annie looked at a place here after I retired. Thought we’d get away from the hustle and bustle of Seattle life.” Jerry grinned. “The thought lasted about a day.”
The streets were quiet and Jerry was forced to drop back a good distance from the Triumph. They followed for about ten minutes until Wolfe made a left into a gated subdivision. A stone half-wall engraved with fancy lettering proclaimed it THE BRIAR WOODS RESIDENCES.
Jerry didn’t turn left to follow Wolfe through the wrought-iron gate. Instead he continued straight at five miles below the speed limit. Straining his neck as they passed, Morris watched as Wolfe punched in an access code at the metal box next to the gate, which opened to let Wolfe inside. He saw Wolfe give an easy wave to whoever was manning the guard’s booth before the gate swung shut behind him.
Jerry made a right at the next street, parking at the curb of a small neighborhood, not as ritzy, with no gate or fancy sign to proclaim its exclusivity. He cut the lights.
“We’re stuck,” Morris said. “We can’t get through the gate without an access code.”
Jerry smiled. “O ye of little faith.”
The