The Box, Jeremy Brown [big ebook reader TXT] 📗

living in the U.S. already. And I’m not sure what’s farther, China or Australia…”

“And they all just stop in for the burger and head back home? Or wherever they were going?”

“Pretty much,” Marie said with a smile, but her eyes had lost the mischief of flirting with Rison.

Bruder was trying to get her to mention something about the Romanians, and he figured that was the closest he was going to get without pushing too far.

“I’ll be right back with those beers.”

She turned and left, and Rison said, “She’s scared.”

Bruder nodded.

He checked the room again and saw the table of Romanians looking back at him, all four men, each of them with the sort of flat eyes that wouldn’t change whether they were tickling or stabbing you.

Bruder didn’t let his gaze linger, but he didn’t rush his eyes away either.

He didn’t want to challenge them with a stare-down.

It could be equally troublesome, though, to seem like an easy mark, somebody they could brace and shake down.

He looked at Rison and said, “They’re scoping me, so let’s talk about work or sports or something.”

Rison caught on right away and started droning about conveyor belts and barcode scanners and whatever else he’d learned in his research about pharmaceutical packaging equipment.

Bruder nodded along and commented here and there and kept tabs on the Romanians in his periphery.

The four of them finished their beers and turned to look at the booth a few times, possibly discussing plans about who was going to do what when the time came.

Then the loudest one, the one Bruder thought might be the alpha, reached into a pocket and pulled out a cell phone and looked at the screen. He stood up and the others followed suit, then trailed him out the front door without looking back.

A family of four waiting near the pedestal clustered into the corner by the gumball machines to get out of their way.

“They’re out,” Bruder said.

“We gonna have any trouble when we leave?”

“It looked like they got summoned via text. But who knows. A couple of them might think it would be fun to have a chat with us.”

Marie and another server hurried over and cleared the mess on the four-top, putting everything in brown plastic bins. Bruder could see the thin line of Marie’s mouth, and when the other woman said something to her Marie just shook her head.

A skinny kid wearing an apron carried the bins into the back while Marie wiped the table down and reset the condiments, then waved the family of four over.

“They didn’t pay,” Bruder said.

Rison risked a glance over his left shoulder.

“The Romanians?”

“Yeah.”

“So maybe they left in a hurry because of that? The good ol’ dine and dash. Hey, like the show, but flipped.”

“No. It looks like the staff here is used to it.”

Rison took a drink from his beer.

“So people are scared. And pissed.”

Bruder nodded.

“The question is, who’s ready to do something about it?”

They ate and chatted with Marie, who never got back into her rhythm after the Romanians left.

Rison agreed the steak was better than anything he’d had in Jersey, and he did a good job not mentioning the ones he’d had in Vegas and Rio and Monte Carlo.

They paid in cash with a tip big enough to put them solidly in Marie’s corner—but not big enough to let on they knew she’d been stiffed—then walked into the back hallway and stopped at the door.

Bruder adjusted the FN 509 Compact 9mm just to the right of his belt buckle. It was in an inside-the-waistband holster with just the grip peeking out above his belt, ideal for concealment.

Rison carried the same handgun over his right kidney, preferring that placement for comfort, and that’s how he practiced drawing and firing.

“If any of them are out here,” Bruder said, “don’t shoot them unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Rison grinned at him.

“Ain’t no bullet worth fourteen million dollars.”

The sky was dark and pressing down on the single sodium light buzzing over the dirt lot.

The parking lot was full of cars and trucks, but it was quiet and still, all the noise and movement trapped inside Len’s.

Bruder checked between the vehicles as they passed and listened for footsteps and vehicle doors popping open. When they got to their car, he slid into the passenger seat and checked the windows and mirrors for anyone coming to brace them in the car, sitting ducks, but then Rison had them moving in a tight turn out of the spot and into the narrow road behind the restaurant.

Other vehicles moved on the streets and looking left at the first intersection they could see a steady flow of traffic on the four lanes running through town, but nobody pulled out behind them or followed them through a series of turns and cutbacks.

“My sense of self-importance is taking a hit,” Rison said. “I don’t think those Romanians give two shits about us.”

“That’s their problem,” Bruder said.

He pulled a small notepad out of his jacket pocket with notes and sketches that would only make sense to him.

“Let’s take another tour around the outskirts. I want to check these places at night, see if they have any lights showing through the trees.”

“Want me to swing by and grab Connelly?”

Bruder shook his head.

“I’ve had enough racket for one night.”

They got back to the motel just before nine o’clock. Connelly was waiting for them in the connecting doorway, wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

“What, did you guys get the seven-course meal or something? I’ve been waiting here all goddam night.”

Rison locked the room door behind him.

“We got a look at some local spots, for afterward. In case we have to lay low.”

Connelly waited for a moment, then said, “And?”

“We found some good candidates, but ideally we scoot right out of town before anybody knows what happened.”

Bruder was watching Connelly.

He asked him, “Can you handle sitting still for a few days if you have to?”

“Me? Sure, of course. Why?”

“Because you seem to have trouble with it right now, and