Chris Kuzneski - The Prophecy

Originally he had planned on staying in the service for another decade or so, but when Grandpa Payne died and left his company to his grandson, everything changed. At the time, Payne wasn’t ready to retire, but out of love and respect for the man who had raised him, he left the military and moved back to Pittsburgh to fulfil his familial duties. To help his adjustment to civilian life, Payne had convinced Jones to retire as well. In fact, he had bribed him to do it. He gave Jones office space in the Payne Industries complex and loaned him enough start-up capital to open his own business. It had always been Jones’s dream to run a detective agency, and Payne had the means to help. So Payne figured, why not?

Not surprisingly, the pace of their lives had slowed considerably in recent years. Other than the rare occasions when Payne helped Jones with one of his cases, the only time they got to carry guns and have some fun was when they had their own adventures. The last time had been their trip to Greece. And it had been a life changer.

Thanks to their historic discovery, Jones suddenly had more money than he could possibly spend in his lifetime. Growing up in a lowermiddle-class family, he had lived his life frugally, always saving money for a rainy day. The military had paid for his education at the Air Force Academy and had taken care of his basic living expenses for nearly two decades which had allowed Jones to build a nice nest egg. Now he had more nest eggs than a chicken farmer.

The first thing he did was pay back all the cash he had borrowed from Payne. Not only the start-up capital, but also the money that Payne should have been charging for rent, plus interest. Payne had been reluctant to take it — he certainly didn’t need the funds — but Jones pestered him so much that he eventually agreed.

Unfortunately, there were some drawbacks to

Not that he was complaining.

As someone who loved mysteries, he was enjoying his second career. Still, compared to his days with the MANIACs, his current life was painfully boring.

Of course, all that changed with the shooting at the chapel.

His adrenaline was flowing, and he was craving more.

14

During his time with the MANIACs, Jones had broken into more cars than he could possibly remember — sometimes to acquire an escape vehicle, other times to plant an explosive device. Over the years, those life or death experiences had hardened his nerves and steadied his hands, making his current mission seem easy by comparison.

Police across the street? Not a problem.

Even if they started shooting.

‘Not bad,’ he mumbled as he opened the door and climbed inside.

The interior was cold but not nearly as cold as it was outdoors. For that, he was thankful. He was also glad he had found a pair of black leather gloves at the chapel. They allowed him to rummage through Ashley’s car without leaving any prints. Not that it actually mattered. The shooting had taken place across the street, so he doubted that a forensic team would examine the car. But on the off chance they did, he preferred to keep his physical evidence out of the equation.

The first place he searched was the glove compartment. From his experience, that’s where most people kept their car registration and insurance card, and all he needed was Ashley’s full name and address. With that information, he could go

When Jones opened the latch, he expected the storage space to be jammed with personal items — CDs, cosmetics, a small purse, maybe even some food. Anytime he went on a road trip, he packed peanut-butter crackers or protein bars, so he wouldn’t have to stop for snacks. And if Payne, a freak of nature who had to consume more than 8,000 calories a day or he lost weight, was along for the ride, then they brought multiple sandwiches or several containers of beef jerky to keep him from getting cranky. Therefore, when Jones looked inside the glove box and found it empty, he was more than surprised. He was borderline stunned.

‘What the hell?’ he said to himself.

At the very least, he had expected to find her paperwork. But nothing? That didn’t make any sense. Even the most obsessive people in the world kept something in their cars, even if it was just a dust cloth to tidy up. But an empty glove box was suspicious.

Suddenly, all types of paranoid thoughts ran

It was a concept Jones hadn’t considered until that very moment.

For all he knew, a sniper could be eyeing him from a nearby building, patiently waiting for the cops to leave before he pulled the trigger.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The sound echoed from above like gunshots. With a burst of adrenaline, Jones nearly dived into the backseat until he realized what had made the noise. Someone was on the street outside, pounding on the roof of the car. Jones glanced out of the driver’s side window and saw a muscular man in a tuxedo and black gloves. Only then did his heart rate start to calm.

‘Holy hell,’ he cursed as he leaned over and opened the door, ‘you almost killed me.’

Payne grinned and slipped inside. ‘Sorry about that. I thought you saw me.’

‘You know damn well I didn’t see you, or you wouldn’t have knocked.’

He shrugged, not willing to confirm or deny anything. ‘Any luck?’

‘Your search.’

‘Nothing so far. Then again, I just got here.’

Payne pointed. ‘Did you check the glove box?’

‘First thing I did. It’s empty.’

‘Any paperwork?’

‘Nothing.’

‘What about food?’

Jones shook his head. ‘ Nada .’

‘No snacks? Who goes on a road trip without snacks?’

‘I was wondering the same thing myself.’

‘What about a pack of mints?’

‘Jon, what is it about empty that you can’t comprehend?’

‘Sorry. It just seems weird, that’s all.’

They checked the storage compartment under the centre armrest and the pockets mounted behind their leather seats, but they were empty as well. Next Jones flipped down both sun visors, hoping to find something of value. From the driver’s side, a single slip of paper came fluttering out. Payne snatched it in mid-flight and held it up to the window, struggling to read it in the dim light. Slowly, a grimace surfaced on his face.

‘Shit,’ Payne cursed. ‘This isn’t good.’

‘What is it?’

Jones paused, thinking things through. ‘Well, that would explain the empty glove box. I guess she rented a car for her road trip. What’s the problem?’

‘Look at the business address.’

Jones opened the glove box and used the interior light to read the details. According to the flyer, the car had been rented from Pittsburgh airport. ‘This isn’t good.’

‘I’m pretty sure I just said that.’

‘I know you did. And I’m agreeing with you.’

Payne flipped up both visors and studied the frosty windshield. In the upper-right corner, he noticed a small orange sticker that said Budget . ‘I wish I had seen that before. It would’ve changed my entire line of questioning.’

‘Maybe so, but it was covered with ice and snow. No way it was visible from outside.’

‘I know that, but I should’ve—’

Jones interrupted him. ‘She lied to both of us, and both of us bought it. You weren’t the only one who was fooled.’

Payne nodded reluctantly. ‘So, what do we do now?’

‘Right now, our only goal is to get as much info about this car as possible before the cops show

Payne grabbed a pen from his jacket pocket. ‘I’ll start with the registration number.’

‘And I’ll get the licence plate.’

‘While you’re back there,’ Payne said as he hit a button that opened the trunk, ‘check to see if she had any luggage.’