Postcard killers

Chapter 132

Time nearly stopped for Jacob.

He checked his cheap plastic watch every minute. 8:14, then 8:15, then 8:16.

The early morning mist was lingering, making the landscape seem eerie, scary-looking.

Robert's sidekick brought them coffee, juice, and ham sandwiches, which they ate in the car. They were both very hungry.

"How close are you two?" Jacob asked, nodding toward the enormous man leaning on his car a hundred yards away. The car sagged from his weight.

Dessie was doing her best to scrape the ham off the bread.

"Robert?" she said. "He's my favorite cousin. His mom was in and out of prison when he was young, so he spent a lot of time with us on the farm. He's two years younger than me, but he was always bigger and stronger than me."

Dessie put the sandwich down on her lap.

"I've always wondered if we're more than cousins," she said.

Jacob stopped chewing.

"What do you mean?"

She took a gulp of orange juice.

"I don't know who my dad is," she said quietly. "My mother always said he was an Italian prince who would come and fetch us both one fine day. I have no idea what she meant."

She gave him a quick embarrassed look.

"I know," she said. "Al a bit like a fairy tale. One of my uncles is probably my father, or maybe even Granddad himself." She shivered and was silent.

Jacob turned to look through the windshield. What could you say to something like that?

Dessie stretched out as much as she could and looked in the rearview mirror.

"Red car," she said.

Jacob adjusted the mirror so he could see for himself. Sure enough, a red car was approaching from behind.

"It's a Ford," he said. "Four people. It's not them. It's probably not them."