Pressure - By Jeff Strand Page 0,67

way, I’ve got a gun. You cause me trouble and I’ll start shooting people at random.”

“Let me see the gun.”

“Oooh, lost some of our trusting nature, huh?” He opened his leather jacket, revealing the handle of a pistol protruding from an inside pocket. He closed it up but kept his hand inside.

“You stay the fuck away from my daughter,” I told him.

“No.”

“If you touch her, I’ll kill you.”

“Maybe that’s what I want. Can I have some fries?”

“Fuck you. They’re mine.”

“You get feistier every time we meet, Alex. I think Melanie is really good for you. I was pretty hurt that I didn’t get invited to the wedding, though. Did you get the salad shooter I sent?”

I took a tasteless bite of my hamburger and didn’t respond.

“You’re actin’pretty brave there, buddy. Of course, you know that I’m not here to shoot you. If I wanted to do that, I’ve had hundreds of opportunities, and I’m speaking literally. Did Tracy sing you her song?”

Just lean over, you son of a bitch, I thought. If he got close enough for me to reach out and grab him, I’d slam the sick bastard against the table and bash him until his skull split open.

I might not even stop then.

“This is too public,” said Darren. “Let’s go for a drive.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He nodded at a booth behind me. “See that baby in the high seat? One shot and her head will look like the food they’re trying to get her to eat. Then I’ll shoot the mother, and then I’ll shoot you. Then I’ll slip out that door right there”—he pointed behind me again—“and flee the scene. I’ll lay low for a year, maybe two, and then I’ll find your wife and daughter. Do you like your daughter’s fingers, Alex? They’d make a beautiful necklace, don’t you think?”

“You rehearsed that, didn’t you?”

“I don’t get the feeling that you’re taking me seriously,” said Darren, pulling the gun out of his jacket. “Let’s rectify that.”

“No!”

He quickly hid the gun under the table. “I hate threatening babies,” he said. “Don’t make me do it again.”

“Where do you want to take me?” I asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’ve seen your surprises.”

“You sure have. How often do you think about that hatchet going into her neck? I bet it made a great sound, didn’t it? Think she could see when you carried her head around?” He shifted in his seat. “Get up from the table slowly. Take the rest of the fries with you; I’m starving.”

I gathered up the fries and put them back in the bag. Then, slowly as instructed, I slid out of the booth.

“Go out the back door.”

I walked toward the back door, watching the baby happily coo as its mother teased it with a slice of pickle. I wondered if Darren really would have shot the baby first.

Yeah, he would have.

I pushed open the door and walked outside the restaurant. Darren stepped up right behind me and shoved the barrel of the gun into my back. “Let’s pick up the pace,” he said, as we moved across the parking lot.

I looked around for a cop, a security guard, anybody who could help me, but the only other occupants of the parking lot were a group of teenagers lost in their individual cell phone conversations. Somebody had to notice that he had a gun in my back, right?

“It’s the blue one,” Darren said, prodding me again. “It’s unlocked. Get in the passenger side.”

I opened the passenger door of the blue sedan and got inside. Keeping the gun pointed at me, Darren got in the driver’s side. He switched gun hands, dug a set of keys out of his pocket, and started the car.

We pulled out of the parking lot, and then immediately into the parking lot of the grocery store next door. He drove around the back of it, next to a Dumpster, and then put the car into park.

“Get out,” he said, waving the gun at me.

“You’re letting me go?”

“Of course not. You’re just switching seats. Get out.”

I opened the door and got out. I considered making a run for it, but he could easily put a bullet into my back before I got anywhere close to safety. He reached down, pulled a lever, and the trunk popped open.

“I figured somebody at the restaurant would think it was suspicious if they saw you get in the trunk,” he said, getting out of the car. “Gotta think of these things, you know. If anybody sees us,