Chapter 8
The car slid as they took a corner, pushing Merrick against his door. As Vic managed the turn, Merrick grabbed the seatbelt and then fastened it.
Vic scoffed. “You’ve gotten soft.”
“I remember how you drive.”
Grant leaned against Merrick’s seat. “They have us on camera stealing a painting.”
“Relax, we’ll deal with that later. Seatbelt, please.”
“There’s facial recognition programs scanning everything.” Grant crouched down in the seat. “They’ll find us.”
Vic sped deeper into the downtown, past abandoned warehouses and factories by the riverfront. They weren’t being followed, but Merrick didn’t relax. He took his phone from his back jean pocket, intending to call Wyatt.
“Hey, not yet.” Vic put his hand over the phone. “I never thought I’d see you again, man.”
Merrick reste
