Outlaw Road (A Hunter Kincaid Novel) - Page 65

Bobby rose from the table and said, “We’re leaving,” he reached for his wallet and the owner stopped him, shaking his head.

“No charge, you should go now.”

Anda was already up and said, “They’re here.”

The front and back doors banged inward.

Felipe Godoy and Anacleto Holguin stepped through the front and Jesse and Johnny Barbosa stepped through the back. Bobby looked around, but there was no place to go.

The owner stamped toward the front door and said, “Get out! I will not stand for this in my-”

Felipe shot him and the owner staggered back, holding his stomach. Godoy shot him twice more and the man fell, groaning. The sound of running feet and clattering utensils told where the restaurant workers ran to hide.

Felipe pointed the pistol at Bobby and Anda, “You two, come here.” Bobby stalled, his hand on the knife by his plate.

Godoy moved his aim and said, “You come now, or I shoot the girl.”

Bobby took his hand away and said, “We’re coming.”

They walked toward the gunman, past the body on the floor. Jesse and Johnny came in behind, but not before going by the food and sticking several grilled quail in their pants pockets. When Bobby was near the cash register and still six feet from Godoy, he stepped a little nearer to the wall and the old photograph of Romualdo Saeriz. Godoy smiled and Cleto Holguin leered at Anda.

Bobby pretended to stumble and fall against the wall. His hands were quick and he snatched the framed photograph from the wall, flinging it hard, frisbee-style into Felipe’s grin.

The spinning frame cracked into Godoy just below his nose and the glass exploded, throwing shards into his face. Godoy’s gun went off in the ceiling as he fell and Bobby Mata jumped forward and kicked a wide-eyed Cleto Holguin so hard in the testicles that the fat man lifted off the floor. Anda made her move and was in the doorway when a heavy weight landed on her from behind and drove her to the floor.

The Barbosas were quick despite their size, and on instinct had closed behind Bobby and Anda as Bobby snatched the picture. Even at that, they were surprised and almost didn’t catch the two. Johnny jumped on Bobby’s back, clubbing him to the ground with his forearm, while Jesse caught Anda by the shoulders and fell on top of her, pinning her with his weight.

Felipe staggered to his feet. Thin slivers of glass protruded from his face among red pinpricks and small cuts where bright drops of blood welled up like fat ticks. He had to hunt for his pistol before finding it.

Cleto had thrown up, and then gagged several more times before he could remove his hands from between his legs. He used the wall for support, pulling on the doorjamb like a rope to stand up. Shooting pains coursed through his groin and he grimaced, but made it to his feet.

Johnny Barbosa clubbed Bobby on the back of the head again, but Bobby got in a good shot with his elbow and Johnny bellowed “Gawd!” as the elbow whacked into his floppy ear. Bobby tossed him off and was on his knees when Godoy put the pistol on him.

“I kill you now, its okay with me,” Godoy said in English.

Jesse Barbosa was enjoying himself on top of Anda, grinding his pelvis into her tiny buttocks, grunting as he tried to nibble her ear. Anda squirmed underneath the enormous weight of the man, all the while trying to get her hand into the hidden pocket of her skirt. One fingertip touched the sharp edge of the flint blade, then she felt the weight come off her.

Jesse rose as Godoy and Holguin said, “Enough! Let’s go.”

Anda took her hand off the blade, leaving it hidden, then stood and moved as close to Bobby as she could.

Jesse leaned down behind her and said in her ear, “You liked that didn’t you, baby.” His breath stank of tequila and sour milk.

Bobby saw Jesse’s head by his shoulder and snapped his elbow back, catching Jesse square on the lemon-sized knot under the yellow wig. The blow paralyzed Jesse for a moment and he fell hard on his butt in a stiff-legged sitting position.

Godoy slashed his pistol into Bobby’s head and Bobby staggered but didn’t go down. A thread of blood ran out of his hairline and down his neck.

“If you are through playing now,” Godoy was still talking in English, “Maybe we can go.” Jesse staggered to his feet and they walked their prisoners to the black limousine. Cleto put Flex-cuffs on Bobby and Anda, then pushed them in the back seat. He turned to Jesse and said, “The girl is mine. Entiendes, you understand?”

Jesse sneered at the fat man and said, “In your dreams, you tub of guts. We’ll leave you some when we’re through, not before.” He and Johnny walked away, circling to the back of the restaurant and their vehicle as Felipe and Cleto got in the limo and the car sped away, disappearing down the unpaved road in a cloud of dust.


Ronald’s opening argument was short and to the point, but it wasn’t the words that affected the jury, it was Ronald. He paced in front of them, movie star handsome, every word delivered with clarity and conviction, his body language adding emphasis at crucial points. Several of the women nodded their heads at what he said, unaware they were doing so. He closed by saying, “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, ask yourself how you would feel, how your life and that of your young son would be turned upside-down by the cold, deadly actions of Agent Kincaid. Imagine seeing the person you love shot down before your eyes.”

He paused and looked at each juror, “As I said before, this is a civil trial and there will be no prison time for Agent Kincaid. But you can make a statement at such injustice. A guilty verdict will send a clear message to those in law enforcement. Your monetary judgment against Agent Kincaid will still make this statement. We all know it isn’t the amount of money awarded that will force officers of the law to value life. I am sure, when you see the evidence and testimony presented, that you will make the right decision and find Agent Kincaid guilty. Thank you.”

Truman gave the jury some extra moments before he stood up. “Ladies and gentlemen, what you just heard was very emotional, and the trauma that Mrs. Garcia and her son went through is real.” He stopped talking as he walked closer to the jury box. He said, “But no one’s talked about the trauma that Hunter Kincaid experienced. Imagine it is you there on that day, and you see the narcotics, see the crime in progress. Imagine trying to arrest a known killer and seeing him pull a gun with every intention of killing you, and you have to fire in self defense.”

Tags: Billy Kring Thriller
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