Jamie swallowed his fear and made the call to his cousin Matt, a go-to guy with all the right connections for anyone willing to deviate. His crew needed help and paid well. Jamie needed cash.
“Stealing cars is easy, man. It’s all high-tech,” Matt said. “Just follow my lead and you’ll make good money,” he promised.
That was two days ago. Now Jamie waited on the designated street corner. It was after midnight. He’d get use to working nights. Maybe. Hurry up, Jamie thought, before I change my mind.
“Watch for me in a gray van,” was Matt’s final instruction. Soon the van appeared but someone else was driving. Was this a mistake?
“Get in,” the man barked.
“Where’s Matt?” Jamie asked as he slid into the vehicle next to a bald guy, about forty years old, with a tribal tattoo on his right temple.
The driver pointed to a molded toolbox on the floor. “Carry that,” he said.
Jamie asked again, “where’s Matt?”
“In jail,” was the driver’s reply.
Jamie’s right hand clung hard to the passenger door handle until it was safe to jump.
About the Creator
Lynn Fenske
I've always been a writer. Copywriter. PR writer. Journalist. Sometimes I make stuff up.
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