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“I say we go viral,” Corey said. “Now. This guy is setting us up!”

“I think so too,” Luther said.

Max said, “It all depends on Jerry.”

“Jerry?”

“My manager. He and Talia are having an affair. Talia would be just fine with it if I dropped off the face of the earth, but Jerry has money—a lot of money—invested in me. I have to be on the set in a couple of weeks. She may want me dead, but he wants me alive and working.”

Sam P. and Luther digested this.

Sam P. said, “So this, uh, Jerry. What’s his last name?”

“Gold. Jerry Gold.”

“He’ll pay to get you back?”

Max shrugged. “He’ll get Talia to pay, which is the same thing. There’s no way he’s going to let his meal ticket die in a bomb shelter in the middle of the desert. But he’s going to need some time.”

“Time?”

“To convince Talia. She’s the one with the purse strings. And right now, she’s picturing life without me, and she likes it that way.”

“But this, ah, Jerry? He can convince her?”

“He’ll convince her. You’d better believe it.”

“How long, do you think?”

Max shrugged. “A day, maybe? She’s pretty stubborn.”

“But what about going viral?”

“That’s our trump card. But I don’t think we’ll need it. What I suggest is we send the video to Jerry—you can upload it and send it by phone, you’ll need to get a cheap throwaway—and then we wait.”

“Don’t you guys see what he’s doing?” Corey said. “He talked you asshats into ‘going viral,’ and now he’s changing the rules of the game in midstream.”

Luther cleared his throat. “Horses.”

“What are you talking about?” Corey shouted.

“Horses in midstream. You change horses in midstream, not the rules of the game.”

Max looked at Sam P., and Sam P. shrugged and gave him his long-suffering look. The look that said, Why do I have to put up with fools like this?

“Wait a minute,” Max said. “Luther, you called Talia.”

Luther said, “What about it?”

“It was your personal cell phone?”

Sam P. looked at Luther. Luther blanched.

“They can trace it right to you.”

“But you said your wife doesn’t want you.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but Jerry does.”

“So what do we do?”

Max pretended to think. Finally, he said, “It’s going to take some time. They have to hire someone to get your phone records, and then they’ll have to have someone in law enforcement come here to look for me. Should take a while.”

Sam P. said, “How much time would it take?”

“Depends on how much Jerry wants me.”

“And your estimate of that? If you can be truthful, please.”

“Several hours, at least. Jerry would have to talk to the sheriff here. They’d have to put together a task force and get them out here—probably a SWAT team. Around here, that’s going to take time.”

“Yeah, it’s going to take time ,” Corey said. “Like, we’re all in this together.”

“Shut up, Corey, I’m trying to think here,” said Sam P.

“What stake’s he got in this? He’s the hostage!”

Sam P. looked at Corey. Then he looked at Max. “That’s an excellent question.”

Max stared into Sam P.’s eyes. Max could feel his teeth clench, as if he shook from the cold. The cold was the crust around him, but the furnace inside, the anger he felt, wasn’t faked. He didn’t have to act this time. Holding Sam P.’s eyes, he said, “I want to put it to her. I want this to blow up in her face.”

Sam P. visibly recoiled. “I can see that.”

Max saw Luther stir from the corner of his eye. He could feel a change in Luther. Max suddenly commanded his full respect. “Damn right,” Luther muttered.

Corey said, “This is bullshit. I’m gone.”

Sam P. said, “Corey, this is important.”

“Yeah, well, a deal’s a deal. If I don’t show up at Benner’s right now, he’ll wonder what’s up.”

Sam P. sighed. “I suppose you have to go. He’s paranoid enough as it is.” He looked at Max. “Corey’s got this sideline.”

Corey glared at Sam. Started to say something, but thought better of it. Looked at Max. “I’ll see you later. Something tells me you’re not going to make it out of here alive.”

“If you’re going, Corey,” Max said, “Get a prepaid phone. We’ll use that from now on. We can upload the video on it.” He turned to Luther. “Corey should take your phone. If the cops come, you can tell them it was stolen.”

Max was thinking how sweet it would be to see the look on Talia’s face when the video of her kidnapped husband, bruised and abused, went viral.

He wondered how she’d like to see that on YouTube. Especially the part where he pleaded for his life and begged Talia to do everything in her power to save him.

“But we have to have throwaway phones, so no one will trace it to us,” Max added. “Right, Luther?”

Luther nodded, although he looked a tad bit confused.

“Corey,” Max said, “turn off Luther’s phone and dump it somewhere out in the boonies.”

“I’m not taking orders from you. You’re already dead, man. You just don’t know it.”

“Corey, don’t threaten the man,” Sam P. said.

“Bullshit!”

“Corey?” Sam P. said. “You want in on this or not? We’re trying to do this right.” He looked at Max. “But we’ll keep our own phones, thank you very much. You neglected to mention that all we have to do to elude the, ah, authorities , is to turn them off. Max, do you think your wife will change her mind? Is it conceivable that she would pay the ransom to get you back?”

“No.”

“Then it’s unlikely that the authorities will be able to trace us through Luther’s phone. Am I right?”

“She wouldn’t go to the authorities.”

“So it’s a moot point. Luther can keep his phone. But our friend Max here is right about the prepaid phones. Corey, we’ll want two.”

“He’s torquing you guys around, don’t you get that?”

Sam P.’s voice got quiet. “Are you in or are you out?”

In the end, Corey was in.

Chapter Sixteen

TEN MINUTES AFTER his kidnappers left Max alone in the bomb shelter, he heard an engine start up outside. Even fifteen feet belowground, encased in steel and concrete block walls, he could hear the reverberation. Big engine, maybe a 454—a muscle car.

The car screamed away, the engine going from sweet to angry.

A few minutes later Luther came down to see him.

“Corey take off?” Max asked.

“You heard the car? Down here? That’s Corey’s pride and joy. A nineteen seventy-one Chevelle SS. Frankly, I’m worried he’s raising his profile too much, but you can’t reason with Corey. You probably already know that.”

Max said, “You and your uncle are smart guys. Why are you fooling around with a redneck like him?”

“He’s got his uses,” Luther said primly.

“You know what’s missing here?” Max said. “A Porta-Potty.”

Luther sat down on one of the folding chairs. “Hopefully, you won’t be here that long. I am sure as hell not going to risk taking you upstairs to the toilet. Can’t you just hold it?”

“Not for a day. I told you, it’s going to take a while. Jerry’s got to talk Talia out of her snit. She’ll come around, but she needs a certain amount of hand-holding.”

Luther ran a hand through his thinning hair. Kidnapping, it seemed, was taking a toll on him.

Max asked, “You feeling well?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look so good. I want to ask you something. How are you going to complete the transaction?”