While Sariklis and Tyrrell bring the cash to Warner’s office, Francis will take the van onto State Highway 12, alone. Your body will be in the back under a sheet, slowly going cold. Francis will drive through the dark, watching the buildings disappear and the trees get taller and taller.

Then he’ll see a beat-up Toyota parked on the shoulder, miles from anywhere. He’ll pull over. Despite what he’s seen and done, he’ll shudder before he gets out of the car.

Then he’ll slide open the van door, and give your body to me.

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2

What flies without wings and cries without eyes?

He’s late.

I pace up and down the shoulder, watching the road for headlights. The trees whisper secrets in the gentle breeze. My breath makes clouds in front of my face. It’s not snowing, but the sky is seriously considering it. People think Texas is hot, but in early December it falls below fifty.

Normally I’d stay in the driver’s seat, working on riddles. Strangers mail them to me, and I solve them for twenty bucks each. This started out as a money-laundering scheme, and surprised me by becoming an actual job. But tonight I have to get out of the car. A diet of primarily meat, stale bread and salted coffee has ugly side effects. I’m having stomach cramps.

I check my phone, squinting at the tiny screen. It’s two am. The phone is a burner, small and cheap. Warner told me to keep it switched on and with me at all times. The battery never lasts long, so I know she installed a hidden tracking app. She probably assumed I’d figure that out, but she also knows I’m smart enough to play dumb.

My guts gurgle, twisting in my belly. I need a bathroom break. But if I’m not here when Francis arrives, I don’t know what he’ll do.

I take deep breaths. That only makes it worse. I try to think about the van instead, cruising towards me with the body inside.

The dead man is named Aaron Elliott. An investment banker. He hit one of Warner’s callgirls, leaving her with a busted nose. Now she can’t work. Warner said it would be bad business to let something like that go unpunished.

The body is supposed to be big. Six foot, two hundred pounds. Might be a challenge for me to dispose of.

The pressure from my insides is getting unbearable. I take one more hopeful look at the road, but there’s still no sign of the van, so I scurry into the woods.