Chapter Twelve

Alex had locked up the pole barn again, and was walking back to the house to wait for whoever was coming to meet him when he heard the gravel in the driveway crunching under tires.

He had just reached the garage as the car in the driveway came to a stop.  It was a grey Lincoln MKZ.  Pretty non-descript.  The driver got out, and Alex recognized him as the chauffeur who had driven him home from the first meeting with Mr. Darcy.

“I thought you didn’t work for Mr. Darcy,” Alex said, by way of greeting.

“And I still don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Minor,” the driver said.

Alex half-laughed, and said, “OK, have it your way.  So do you need a pit stop, or should we get rolling?”

“Let’s roll,” the driver said.

Alex watched the landscape as they drove back towards the Minneapolis side of town.  It had been dark out when he and Megan had driven through the night before, so he was curious to see what his surroundings were like.

He quickly realized that his surroundings were mostly corn fields.

Once they were back on the freeway, there wasn’t really much to look at, so Alex tried to start up a conversation with the driver.

“So, since you don’t work for Mr. Darcy, what company are you working for?” Alex said.

“I’m an entrepreneur,” the driver said.

“Cool, so you run a car service?  What’s it called?” Alex said.

“Expedient Car Service,” the driver said.

“Catchy,” Alex said.  The driver didn’t reply.

“OK,” Alex said slowly.  “So what’s your name?”

The driver didn’t answer.  Alex considered repeating the question, a little louder, just in case the driver hadn’t heard him.  He decided against it.

“That’s cool.  I’ll just call you Mr. Expedient,” Alex said.  “Tell me, Mr. Expedient, does Mr. Darcy send a lot of business your way?  Are you the only driver, or have you got a staff of Mini Expedients?”

The driver still didn’t answer.

“OK, you don’t want to talk.  That’s fine, I’ll shut up,” Alex said.  He rode along, silently, the rest of the way back to his apartment. 

They rolled through the parking lot, checking for suspicious cars or people, before parking close to an entrance and hurrying inside.

Alex was slightly dismayed that the door to his apartment was unlocked, but on the other hand it was also a relief. He didn’t have his key with him, so getting in again would have been challenging if the door had been locked.

Inside, it looked like everything was exactly where it had been left the other night.  Alex picked his bag up off the floor, and stuffed everything that should have been in it, including his most recent earnings, back in to the main compartment.  

Mr. Expedient stayed close as Alex gathered his things.  One Alex had finished re-packing his bag, he went in to his bedroom, and began grabbing an assortment of clothing and stuffing it into a suitcase.

Alex was focused on figuring out what he really needed to have with him at the house out in the middle of nowhere, and was startled when he heard sort of a meaty smack behind him, followed by the sound of a body crumpling to the floor.

He spun around, fists up, fearful that he was about to get abducted again, or worse.  What he saw was Mr. Expedient straightening his jacket calmly.  Nearby, one of Victors henchmen from the other night laid sprawled out on the floor.

“Sit tight,” Mr. Expedient said to Alex, and he walked out of the room to inspect the rest of the apartment.   Alex heard the front door being locked, and a second later there was a surprised grunt and another thump as somebody hit the floor.

Alex hoped his downstairs neighbors weren’t home at the moment, in the back of his mind.  At the same time, he rushed out to see what had happened.

What he found was the driver standing over the other one of Victor’s goons.

“Have you got everything you need, Mr. Minor?  We should probably get moving,” Mr. Expedient said.  He didn’t even sound winded.

Note to self, absolutely do not fuck with the driver guy, Alex thought.  He said, “Yeah, let me grab my suitcase and we can roll.”

Minutes later they were back in the Lincoln, driving away from Alex’s apartment again.  Alex wondered when and if he was going to be able to go back to get the rest of his stuff, or just move back into his apartment again.  He wasn’t too keen on coming home to find a couple of well-hidden thugs laying in wait for him.  He tried to put it out of his mind, since he couldn’t do much about it at the moment anyway, and turned his attention to the driver.

“What is it that you really do, Mr. Expedient?” Alex said.

“I drive,” he said.

Alex was quiet for a moment, then said, “You know, I wish someone would give me a straight answer one of these days.  The constant ambiguity is driving me nuts.”

It occurred to him then that he was missing work at the courier service, too, and also that he’d left both of his bicycles behind at the apartment.

On the upside, he had a pretty hefty bundle of cash in his bag, so finding a replacement bicycle probably wouldn’t be too difficult.

As they drove, Alex noticed that Mr. Expedient’s driving had gotten a lot more erratic.  He was making dramatic, rapid lane changes across several lanes, speeding up, and slowing down at odd times.  He swung a U turn for no apparent reason, and Alex finally had to say something.

“What the hell are you doing?  You’re driving like a coked-up spider monkey,” Alex said.

“I’m checking to see if we’re being followed,” Mr. Expedient said.  He checked the mirrors, and turned off of the street they were driving on.

A moment later, he said, “And we are.”

Alex wondered what, exactly, he’d actually recovered from Victor Steel.  This all seemed like a lot of bother over an antique spearhead. 

“Buckle up for safety,” Mr. Expedient said.

“Huh?” Alex said.  He began to say, “I am already buckled up,” but only got as far as “I am,” before Mr. Expedient made a hard right turn without slowing down, and hit the gas hard.  A block later he made another hard turn, to the left this time, followed by another sharp right.

The street they were on was wide and clear for now, and Mr. Expedient didn’t spare the accelerator.  Alex took a glance at the speedometer and saw that they already hit sixty miles per hour, on a back street, and that they were still accelerating.

Before long, they braked hard, and made a sharp left.  After a couple of blocks, they went right again.  Mr. Expedient didn’t slow down a bit, but he glanced into the rear view mirror again, and said, “That should have gotten rid of that guy.  We can’t outrun cell phones, though.  It’s time to swap cars.”

After another mile or so, they pulled into a strip mall that had a mechanic’s shop.  The garage doors were all open, and Mr. Expedient pulled right into one of the stalls.  He shut off the car and left the keys in one of the cup holders.

“This is where we’re swapping cars?” Alex said.

“Yep,” Mr. Expedient said.  “Come on.”

They got out of the Lincoln, and one of the mechanics looked up from what he was doing and said to Mr. Expedient, “Hey, we’ll have that fixed up for you right away!”

“Great, thanks.” 

He led Alex out through the back door of the shop, to another car.  The one was a white Honda Accord.  Mr. Expedient hopped in the car, and flipped down the visor.  The keys dropped into his waiting hand.

Alex hopped in and fastened his seatbelt, then said, “So what’s going to happen to the Lincoln?   How are they going to hide it?”

“No one will see that car again, don’t worry about it,” Mr. Expedient said.

“I love this job,” Alex said to himself.

For the rest of the drive back to the farmhouse, Mr. Expedient drove somewhat erratically, until he was certain that they were no longer being followed.

Alex had given up on trying to make conversation, so he just looked out the window as they drove, and wondered what he was going to do with himself in a farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere until this all blew over.  He imagined that mowing the lawn might be fun once a week.  What to do with the rest of his time?  Sitting and watching DVDs wasn’t really his style, and if he was supposed to be laying low then he probably shouldn’t go out shopping in order to buy things that would be fun.

Oh well.  He’d be able to find something to do, he was sure.  There was, after all, a pole barn full of things he wasn’t supposed to mess with, and one of those things was a bulldozer.  That had to be at least one day’s worth of fun right there.

Mr. Expedient dropped him off back at the farm house.  Alex got out of the car, and dropped his bag and his suitcase on the steps leading up to the side door of the house. 

He turned back to Mr. Expedient and said, “Do you want some coffee or something before you go?  You must be due for a break.”

“I’m good, thanks.  Have a good day, Mr. Minor,” he said.  He got back in the car and drove back down the driveway.

It was kind of a relief, really.  Sitting and having coffee with some guy who won’t talk in a quiet farmhouse sounded like a real drag.  He could have silent coffee by himself just as easily, and with fewer dishes to wash afterwards.

Alex brought his things inside and settled in on the couch for nap, since it didn’t seem like he was going to have much else to do.

He’d just started to doze off when his phone rang.