Read Before The Killing Starts (Dixie Killer Blues Book 1) for Free Online Page B

forward between the cars parked either side of the narrow street. Another
quick look in the mirror and he was still in the clear. Eyes snapped front
again, he did a double take and stamped on the brakes. He couldn't believe his
eyes. In front of him a Fedex delivery truck had reversed into the street and
was coming towards him. He twisted in his seat and looked over his shoulder.
Behind him the semi-trailer was on the move again. He hit the horn but the
truck in front of him kept on coming. He leaned right into it and the truck
stopped. The driver jumped down from the cab and made his way round to the
back. Evan hit the horn again and the driver held up his hand, fingers splayed—five
minutes.
    He turned in his seat
again and saw the back end of the semi-trailer clear the end of the street and
disappear from view. Behind it, the two guys had reversed and were waiting as
it finally got out of their way. They pulled into the street and stopped. Evan
was boxed in.
    In front of him the
delivery driver had opened up the back of the truck and was climbing out again,
a stack of boxes in his arms. He looked towards Evan, smiled apologetically at
him, and then looked past him. Evan watched him go rigid for a split second, an
incredulous look on his face, then throw the boxes away from him as if he'd
just been told they were radioactive. Then he turned and ran.
    Evan looked behind him
and saw the two guys were out of their car and striding towards him, guns in
their hands. The driver made it to the cab and scrambled in, dropping the keys
in his panic. He half jumped, half fell out and snatched them up again. But he
didn't get back in. He looked back at the two guys, then at Evan and then the
two guys again. He was wasting too much time. Evan knew he was thinking of
forgetting the truck and making a run for it.
    He pulled forward until
he was almost under the truck's loading ramp. He couldn't see the driver any
more. There was a sudden cough of black smoke as the truck's engine fired. It
jerked forward and stopped again. The idiot had stalled it. The engine turned
over and over but it wouldn't catch. Evan looked in the mirror—the guys had
quickened their pace and were only yards away. The truck's engine fired again
but still it didn't move.
    What the hell was the
guy doing? Finishing up his paperwork?
    Evan hit the horn again
and the truck started to crawl forward. The two guys broke into a run. Evan
inched the car after it, his palms slick on the wheel. The truck made it to the
end of the street and stopped, waiting for a break in the traffic.
    Too late.
    Evan's door flew open
and the guy who'd helped him in the bar leaned in and tried to pull the keys
out of the ignition. Evan knocked his hand away. Then the passenger door opened
and the other guy threw himself into the passenger seat, his gun trained on
Evan's chest. The first guy stepped back and motioned for Evan to get out. In
front of him the Fedex truck started moving again, made a right and was gone.
The street ahead was clear, but the truck might as well have still been parked
in front of him for all the good it did him. There was no way he could drive
off without getting shot.
    Evan climbed slowly out
of his car and wiped his hand on the side of his pants, his heart banging away
in his chest. The second guy came around the front of the car and stood behind
him. He was trapped between them. He took a closer look at the guy in front of
him. He was heavyset and a couple of doors down from good looking with a
bandit's mustache and the sort of eyes you didn't want to catch if you knew
what was good for you.
    'Thanks for stopping
that guy in the bar,' Evan said and grinned nervously.
    'No problem,' the guy
said and grinned back, not so nervously.
    'I don't suppose you've
chased me because I forgot to say thanks,' Evan said hopefully.
    The guy dropped his eyes
and worked a small, sad smile onto his face. 'It was quite rude,' he
said, 'but, you're right, there is something