Lockdown

Twenty-four

Lock wondered how much of an extremist you had to be to fill the role of the Stokes family black sheep. It did kind of explain some of the young man’s over-righteous anger, though. He almost regretted adding injury to insult by hurting Don’s wrist. Then he thought of Josh Hulme, and his momentary feeling of sympathy ebbed away, as quickly as it had appeared.

Don worried at his wrist. ‘Man, I could use a drink.’

The way he said it, Lock assumed he wasn’t talking about a lactose-free protein shake. Lock had always assumed the animal rights crowd weren’t much for liquor. Lentil casseroles, for definite. Cheap whisky, not so much.

‘There’s a place about five blocks from here. I can give you a ride,’ he offered.

Don seemed unsure.

‘He’s OK,’ said Janice.

Don still said nothing. Lock didn’t want to push it, but this was a great opportunity. Get a few drinks in him and who knew what Don Stokes would cough up?

‘Listen, I shouldn’t have laid my hands on you back there, man. I’m sorry.’

Don almost managed a smile. ‘Forget it, you saved my sister’s life.’

‘We good?’ asked Lock, offering a hand.

Don shook with his left. ‘I’m usually right-handed, but some asshole almost broke it.’

In the language of men, that was a yes. The tension between them lifted.

Lock helped Janice back down the slope. It had never occurred to him before, but if getting a wheelchair up a slope was an effort, getting it back down was an adventure. At the bottom, he could see Ty fully engaged in the seemingly impossible task of trying to make it look like he had nothing to do with Lock’s Toyota while standing right next to it.

Lock made the introductions. Once those were out of the way, Lock, Ty and Don helped Janice into the car and then spent the next ten minutes collapsing the wheelchair and trying to load it into the trunk.

‘Shoulda brought one of the Yukons,’ Ty observed helpfully as they set off, the FBI surveillance vehicle slotting in behind them.

Lock drove, Janice next to him in the passenger seat, giving Ty and Don a chance to buddy up in the back.

‘You must really like animals, huh?’ said Ty.

‘Guess I do.’

‘I had a dog once,’ Ty continued, earning a please don’t go there glance from Lock in the rear-view. ‘Man, I loved that dog.’

‘That the one who died at a ripe old age?’ Lock asked, pressing down on the gas, eager to get to the bar.

‘Nah, I’m thinking of a different one. Y’know, the pit bull. I’m sure I told you this story, right?’

‘Which is why I don’t need to hear it again.’

Lock glanced in the mirror. The JTTF SUV was still behind them, keeping the regulation half-block distance.

Ty smiled at Don. ‘Lock gets real emotional when I tell it. It was kind of an Old Shep type of situation.’

‘Well, here we are,’ interrupted Lock, turning so hard into the bar’s parking lot that Ty and Don were thrown around on the back seat.

Having helped Don wrestle the wheelchair from the truck, Lock left him to reassemble it. Then he pulled Ty out of earshot. ‘What are you doing, Tyrone? These people love animals more than they do people and you’re gonna tell him about shooting your dog?’

Ty glanced over at Don. ‘Hey, if they think I’m cold enough to shoot my own dog, maybe it’ll get them thinking about what might happen to them if they don’t cough up that kid.’