Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Caspian slipped out of his car, donning winter gloves and a skull cap. Using his tools, he unlocked Don’s vehicle, popped the hood, and pulled out the ignition lead in less than two minutes. This would allow the car to start but after a block or two, it would stop running.
Back in his car, Caspian searched around on the radio until he found a Christian music station. Katy Nichole & Big Daddy Weave’s “God Is In This Story” now played. How fitting. After a while, the church doors opened and Don exited with several other people—mostly men—another cup of joe in his hand. The people embraced and cheerfully said their farewells. Once Don was settled in his car, Caspian placed a different ballcap on, changed jackets, and trailed him. They drove along for a short while then sure enough, Don’s car began to jerk and slow, until it came to an abrupt stop. Don was able to park off to the side, coasting on what was left of the momentum. Caspian drove past him, going around the corner. Going around the block, he returned to see Don trying to start the car. He pulled up beside him and rolled down his window. A look of frustration creased the bastard’s face as he struggled.
“Hey, there!” Caspian yelled, donning his award-winning smile. “Everything okay, man?”
Don looked over at him and his expression relaxed a tad.
“My darn car won’t start! It’s okay though. I’ll just call AAA.”
“No, don’t do that. I’m a mechanic.” Caspian pointed to his hat that read, ‘Brewer’s Auto Shop.’ “Maybe I can take a look?”
Don sighed. “You’d do that? Really? It’s no problem?”
“No problem at all.”
“Thank you. I’m not particularly car savvy.” Don laughed a bit nervously.
“That’s totally fine. Sit tight.” Caspian parked across the way from him and quickly scanned around him for cameras. He’d studied the entire area beforehand, noting that no matter where Don’s vehicle stopped, there would be surveillance in this location, but he’d planned accordingly. The utmost discretion was required. He approached with his toolbox in hand, sporting his matching company jacket.
“I was supposed to get an oil change next week and it’s been leaking oil. That might be it,” Don offered as he opened the car door.
“No, you sit right there and relax. I’ll let you know if I need ya. Just pop the hood for me.”
Don did as he asked. Caspian took out his tools and pretended to tinker with the vehicle, telling Don to try and start the engine. He then made the correct repair but didn’t tell the man he’d fixed the issue he’d created in the first place.
“I think I found the problem! Hold on.”
“Okay.” Moments later, Caspian told the guy to start the engine. Vroom! It started up like some amazing magic trick. After all, an amazing magician was at work. “Oh my goodness! Thank you!”
“You’re welcome. Turn it off and come on over here so I can show ya the problem.”
Donald got out of the vehicle and joined him while Caspian went through his rehearsed spiel of bullshit. Don nodded in understanding, complying when Caspian told him to put his hand on certain parts, to feel this, see that split, where that got warm and whatnot. For a fleeting moment, Caspian indulged in a fantasy of slamming the fucking hood on the bastard’s head. He nearly got hard thinking about repeatedly doing it until the fucker’s blood and brains poured out all over the cylinder block.
“Now, you stand right there. I’m going to start your car and I want ya to see what I’m talkin’ about. That way, when you take it to the shop, they won’t try to pull a fast one and overcharge you because you’ll know what you’re talking about.”
“Okay.”
Caspian hopped in the driver’s seat, started the engine, and kept on with his greasy smooth talk, all while opening a small black bag filled with crushed fentanyl. He sprinkled the powdery dust inside both of Don’s cups of coffee, making sure no matter which the bastard drank, he’d get a taste of his own medicine. It was enough to kill three people within hours. He also mixed it with a sedative. Don would be unable to alert anyone of his affliction—he’d be fast asleep as his body overdosed.
“See? So it’s all settled now. You should be fine until you get your car to the shop for that oil change next week.” Before getting out of the car, he tucked another small baggie of the drug deep in the middle console. Don went into his wallet to offer a few dollars. “Oh, no, no, no.” Caspian waved his hands. “I could never take no money from you, sir. Just doing what I can to help a neighbor! Besides, my wife believes in payin’ it forward too, and I’m late gettin’ home to build her she-shed that I promised to start on earlier today.”