Beware The Bounty—A Five Minute Freewrite

When going after a bounty, you need to be sure that the person you've pegged as the skip is actually the one you're looking for. Otherwise, you've spent a lot of time and effort on someone who ultimately won't get you paid.

Which is why, after all is said done, after the evidence has led me to where I need to be, I end up trusting my gut.

And my gut was telling me that the woman with the kids exiting the vehicle across the street was more than just a suburban soccer mom in a minivan.

It was a stroke of genius, though, hiding out in plain sight. She might actually love her son and daughter. Maybe even her husband. But that didn't change the fact that she was an international jewel thief with a bounty of $5 million over her head.

Even so, I wasn't about to pick her up while her children watched. Instead, after they were off to practice, I followed her out of the parking lot back to her home.

END OF FIVE MINUTES

She knew who I was the moment I showed up in the driveway. Maybe the long beard, wild hair, sunglasses, leather long coat and sawed off shotgun gave me away. Or maybe it was the jacked up fire engine red F-350 dually with reinforced grill, winch and flames running down the sides.

"I wondered when one of you might show up," she said, leaning against the back of her Toyota Sienna. "Five million is a lot of money, after all."

"Just a matter of time, really," I said, nodding.

"I really should let my husband know I can't pick up the kids," she said.

"You can do that once we're at the bondsman."

You've got a fifty-fifty chance of a skip running once they know who you are. She didn't. There really wasn't much of anywhere to go. Not for long, anyway. She actually put her hands out and let me cuff them. I led her to the truck and helped her up the steps into the cab.

As I quickly rounded the truck, I was about to put my foot on the first rung when the engine roared to life. The woman stuck her head out the window above me and shouted, "Thanks for the cool ride." She then took off down the street.

She had stolen my keys from me as I was helping her into the truck. That meant she had my wallet, too, since the keys were chained to them. I had to hand it to her. She was good.

I could tell then that this was going to be the bounty hunt of a lifetime.

And five million was no longer going to cover it.

_{Image source—Pixabay}

_{This post is part of the daily five minute freewrite. Today's prompt: minivan.}