In Plain Sight by Mike Knowles Read Free Book Online

money.’” He mimed an impression of a stick-up and then put his hands back up. “I’m fucking tired of this shit.”
    â€œShut up and sit on the curb.”
    â€œDo this, do that. Yes, sir, I’ll do whatever you want ’cause you’re the big man with the gun.”
    â€œSit down before I put a bullet in your ass.”
    He sat, and I pulled the baby blanket out of the duffel bag. I soaked it with gas from the gas can until the fabric was sopping wet. I put the can down and ripped the aerial off the roof. I used the metal rod to jam the cheap wet fabric down into the gas tank. I pushed a wad in, cleared out the antenna, and then pushed another mass of blanket in again. I repeated the process until two-thirds of the blanket was gone. I left the antenna in the tank with the blanket and got behind the wheel.
    â€œSure, just take the car. It’s not like it’s my life or anything. It’s just a hobby. I work double shifts until five in the morning to cut the stress.”
    I pulled away from the curb watching the rear-view. The cab driver got off the curb and fished through his pockets looking for a phone. I grinned because I saw the phone on the seat beside me. He was having no luck tonight either; it felt good to meet another member of the bad luck club. I drove the car down the first right and hooked onto the road that ran behind Ave Maria. I took the lighter from my pocket and held it in my fist. I forced myself to calm down and drive slowly down the road. In the alley ahead was the same dark car I passed before. This time there was no giveaway that there were any occupants inside. I drove past the alley to the Volvo and dropped the duffel bag out the window. As the bag hit the pavement, I hit the brakes, shoved the gear shifter in reverse, and forced the pedal into the floor. The car screeched back to the mouth of the alley hiding the dark car. I got out of the passenger side of the cab and flicked the lighter alive. The feeble flame shuddered as I walked before maturing into a blaze when it touched the blanket. I ran to the Volvo as I heard a car door open.
    I made it to the duffel bag when the explosion sent me sailing to the pavement. I regained my footing and hustled to the car. My hand went under the wheel well and pulled free the spare key. I opened the door and threw the duffel bag across the seat hard enough to bounce it off the opposite door. The engine turned over without any coaxing, and the car roared to life. The Volvo was a different breed of animal when compared to other cars on the road. The engine was a transplant; something customized to sprint. The V 8 400 horsepower engine sped me away from downtown and the mess I made, leaving only rubber behind on the pavement.
    I had no idea who was watching the car. If it was the cops, the plates and the car description were whizzing past me in the air to every squad car in Hamilton. I had to get somewhere safe; somewhere I could be local while at the same time out of sight like a rabbit in a magician’s hat. I hooked the car onto King Street and ran two lights. I rolled past Dundurn and floored the Volvo onto the highway putting distance between myself and the city at 140 km/h. In under a minute, I took the exit to the suburb of Ancaster and used the empty streets to drive back towards the edge of the city. I stopped on a side street before turning onto Highway Two and checked the car for bugs. I didn’t want someone tracking me with a laptop to pick me up as soon as I stopped driving. When I was satisfied the car was clean, I got on the road again. I rolled down Highway Two eyeing the view off the side of the escarpment. The city of Hamilton looked full of promise from above. You couldn’t see anyone hitting his wife, shooting up smack, or trying to kill a person in a hospital bed. The city from this height was a mirage.
    At the bottom of the hill, I turned into the parking lot of a fleabag motel. The