The Mystery Danger Serials: A Kiss Goodbye

There's a saying

There's a saying...

     "The best laid plans of men, often go belly up."

      That might not be exactly how it goes, but you get the picture. Now, I'm not saying that I had it all figured out when I climbed into the back of the Tailor's car. In fact, I didn't know what my next move would be. But, what I did know was that I couldn't keep following him in that clunker of a bread truck. I stuck out like a sore thumb. 

     So, I buried myself under the money bags in his back seat. It was a risky move. I was counting on the fact that he was running late. Maybe, just maybe that would distract him enough to keep me hidden. Sure enough, we started moving. 

     I had no doubt that the Suit would have security. Whatever racket he was running, he wouldn't want any accidental visitors. There was probably fences, and gate, and guards. Hopefully I could ride this Trojan horse all the way in. 

     Then what? What would I do then? I didn't even know what to expect when we arrived. AT the very least, I would have the Tailor on a charge of attempted murder. But I still had no idea what all this business was about.

     My gut told me it involved the girl. And the address pointed to the suit. But, I couldn't be sure. I wouldn't know for certain until we arrived. 

     Nothing like walking into a battlefield, not knowing who you're fighting, or why. Not even knowing what the stakes are. 

     Yeah, bad business for sure.

     The car was coming to a stop. I could hear voices. Someone was yelling for someone else to open a gate. There was bright light pouring through the gaps if the bags. I held my breath.

     "You're late. He's waiting for you in warehouse 7." a husky voice growled.

     The Tailor just grunted. 

     As we started moving again some of the money bags shifted. Something hard pressed into my hip. Carefully, I reached down and felt the threaded end of a thick pipe. Tracing it with my fingers, I discovered that it was around 12" inches long. It felt heavy.  

     The voices faded. Lights dimmed. If ever there was a chance, it was now or never. 

     In one swift motion, I burst from under the money bags and lashed out with my metal club. There was a echoing thud as the pipe bounced hard off the back of the Tailor's head. I looked around, and by some miracle noticed that we were between two of the long dark warehouses. No one had seen, or heard anything. 

     Carefully, I crawled out from under the bags, and into the front seat. Popping open the driver's door, I pushed the lump of muscle and malice out onto the gravel. 

     Now to find warehouse 7.