The Jillian Factor: The Prequel: The Jillian Factor Chronicles

By B.A. Mealer

The Jillain Factor: The Prequel

Jillian Potter, an unlikely private detective, looks like a child but is effective in getting her man. While on surveillance, she saves William Wadsworth Weldon from certain death only to discover he was the one who had hired the Wyatt Detective Agency for the case she was working. Billy finds Jill a fascinating person while she sees him as a threat to her hard-won stability.

The two find common ground in a love for speed and the need to be children again.

This novella tells the story of Billy and Jill's relationship and how she ended up with her dream car.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BAM Publishing
• Release date: Jan 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9780997122497

B.A. Mealer

B.A. Mealer retired and began traveling using her Harley Davidson trike, pulling a trailer and tent camping, with the goal of seeing all 49 continental states. Along the way, she continued to write while verifying settings for her books, met people who gave her more ideas, and found a place where she felt like she belonged, giving her the impetus to move from south Florida where she spent the last 30 plus years. The move the northern Arizona to a place almost off the grid allows her the peace and quiet to write while continuing to travel to find more settings and people to use in her novels. Ms. Mealer is a voracious reader, and warns her readers that she writes like she reads, a little bit of everything from fantasy to sci-fi and realistic to off the wall contemporary fiction. All her books will contain romance and most will have suspense.

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The Jillian Factor

The Prequel

B. A. Mealer

All people, events, and situations in this novel are fictional. Any similarities to actual occurrences or individuals are by happenstance. This novel is a work of fiction and a creation of the author for entertainment. Some locations maybe real but are changed to fit the circumstances in the story.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photo copying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express permission in writing from the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests write to the publisher, addressed, Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

BAM PUBLISHING

P.O. Box 748

296 W., Grand Bvld.

Ash Fork, AZ 86320

[e-mail]

ISBN  978-0-9971224-8-0  Mobi

ISBN  978-0-9971224-9-7  e-pub

First Printing, January 6, 2019

Copyright © 2019 by B. A. Mealer

Printed in the United Stated of America

Acknowledgements

Abig thank you to 100covers.com and Mark Stone for the cover for this book. Also to Jamie Brydone-Jack, my editor. Without you two, this book would still bet hanging around on my laptop.

Dedication

To all those who love muscle cars with those big engines which get you into trouble.

Chapter 1

Jill was totally over this assignment. She wiped the sweat from her face for the umpteenth time since seven PM . The four nights of heat and boredom made staying awake difficult at best. The original plan called for a maximum of forty-eight hours observing the group suspected of stealing semis and running guns. Their instructions were to video those who came and went at the warehouse.

Right. Already completed at the end of day two. The two days slipped into four for some reason not given to the lowly workers. Heaven only knew how much longer this stakeout could last while waiting for something—anything—to happen.

The sound for the video came courtesy of the bugs planted by Lance, the PI assigned to the day shift. They were placed when the group left the warehouse bay unguarded on the first day. It did make things interesting enough to stay awake when the men were talking. Tonight, there was little talking while waiting for the expected truck to arrive. The notes Lance left included the time when the leader of the motley crew told them the exchange was set for two AM and to expect the truck around midnight.

Jill’s attention returned to the low light monitor, thankful a street light prevented the men from noticing the faint glow in the van. An increase in activity at the warehouse showed on the live feed from the cameras trained on the warehouse. The panel van the agency used for stakeouts was parked in a space reserved for a car repair shop across the access road from the suspect’s double-bay warehouse. The owner of the shop didn’t trust the men after a car was stolen a week after the group rented the bay. Wyatt had obtained permission to leave the van there for as long as it took to get rid of what the repair shop owner classified as a gang of thieves and thugs.

A semi turned onto the narrow street separating the warehouses. It stopped with the rear of the trailer accessible to the now opened bay. Jill hit Record as soon as she saw the headlights. The logo on the truck identified it as belonging to the company who had hired them.

Using headphones, Jill listened to the chatter as the men unloaded empty bins from the trailer. The talk revealed nothing new as they griped about having to unload the empty bins before beginning to load the wooden crates into the trailer. Two men put the crates on the tail of the trailer while another two inside the trailer moved them into the interior.

Three and a half hours ago, the agency notified her of the stolen truck on the way to the warehouse. It meant the two AM rendezvous was less than an hour from here. The idiots made a huge mistake in stealing trucks from the same company more than twice. The second mistake was using the same warehouse in Pompano Beach for longer than a month.

A white panel van with a magnetic sign on the side pulled in behind the semi. It hadn’t been here for two days. With a frown, Jill watched as two men exited the front doors. The leader of the group was the driver. They strode to the back of the van. The driver opened the double doors, and a third man scooted out of the back.

The two passengers pulled a man from the van, keeping him between them. With his hands tied behind his back and no blindfold, it was a given he wouldn’t live through the night. These men had a nasty habit of killing those who could identify them while leaving no trail back to them for the murder. The police found the man who had arrived in much the same way the first day of their surveillance dead on a trash pile in Miami the following day. It was their way of getting rid of what they called the trash.

I don’t know what ya’ll all want with me, but you’re going to get caught this time.

The captive’s cultured southern drawl showed a bravado Jill had to admire. He wasn’t large, but the thick shoulders and muscular forearms showed he was fit.

Trevor, you’ve stolen your last truck from me. The bound man’s manner and voice gave the impression of being in control of the situation.

Shut-up, motherfucker, the man on the right said, shoving the prisoner forward toward the open bay.

After a fast misstep, the man regained his feet to walk into the bay, his back straight and head held high. In the light of the bay, he appeared younger than she expected. The other unexpected thing was how the captive wasn’t showing any fear. The man was either stupid, had a damn good plan, or was crazy. Jill was betting on crazy since he was alone and didn’t sound stupid. Then again, you never could tell from a few words.

Jill hit the Talk button to activate the microphone on her headset. We have a problem. She kept her voice to just above a whisper.

What type of problem?  The question wasn’t unexpected from the man who had answered.

Unknown captive.

Not our problem, came the growled response through the headphones.

Wrong. He is our problem. He works for the trucking company, and they plan on eliminating him, Jill replied, watching the monitors.

Her boss didn’t answer. Jill watched the men who continued to load the trailer with the crates of high-powered assault weapons. This time her boss was so wrong. This captive became their problem as soon as he showed he wasn’t one of the bad guys. There was no way she could watch these thugs kill an innocent man, no matter what her boss commanded.

The group loaded the last of the crates onto the trailer. The men inside the trailer jumped from the back before the driver closed and secured the door. When the guard for those loading the truck moved, Jill could see the man they had taken from the van. He was now tied to a chair in the center of the bay.

The group’s leader grinned. We’ll be back for you, Billy. You were warned. Now you’ll pay for not listening.

I told you to leave our trucks alone. What did you do with the last one you stole? the man named Billy asked, the southern drawl hardening.

It became collateral damage, the leader said, his grin widening. And this one will be the same if the buyers try to double-cross us again.

Billy didn’t have time to respond before a minion forced a gag into his mouth. The leader turned out the overhead lights once all the men were out of the bay, leaving on one dim light in the rear of the warehouse. The guard closed and locked the rolling door with a padlock. Other than the bins from the semi and several boxes at the back wall, the bay was empty. Billy was in the middle of the bay with nothing he could use to get loose from the ropes holding him to the chair.

The driver of the truck started the semi. One man took the passenger seat before the big truck moved away slowly, the big diesel engine drowning out any talk from the other men. Four men got into the van. The guard and three of the men who had been loading the truck went to a white double-cab pickup parked at the end of the office.

They’re leaving. Two in the semi, four in the van, and four in a white double-cab Dodge Ram. I’m going in for the captive once they’re gone.

Got it. Do not leave your station. I repeat. Stay at your station, the voice commanded.

No can do, Jill replied before flipping the Off button on the headphones to prevent hearing the response. The cameras shut off one by one with the lack of movement, conserving the batteries.

No way was she leaving an innocent man for them to kill when the gang returned. From what she could piece together, he was one of the managers at the trucking company who had hired them and was working when they stole the truck.

She snatched a small, thin zipped case from the top of the monitor console. A quick check of the surroundings before leaving the van revealed no movement. She slid out the barely opened back door of the van. The soft click of the door latching sounded loud in the silence. She paused, checking for movement, the humid heat leaving a sheen of moisture on her skin.

She turned to the left to avoid being seen from the window in the office. Using the shadows for cover, she moved with care, monitoring the office door of the warehouse. The only spot where she was in the open was when crossing the street. Hiding her small form in the shadows, she paused at the middle of the bay door and listened. There were no sounds from inside the bay.

At the office door, she studied the lock before choosing a thin tool from the small case. Her left hand reached toward the door handle when a noise from inside the office sent an electric current zipping through her. She froze, her hand hovering a fraction of an inch from the handle. Someone or something was inside the office!

With a step to the right, she moved into the shadows again, her back against the wall of the office. A sliver of light shone from behind the blinds covering the window of the office. Why hadn’t she noticed the light? Mistake number one. If you can’t see every room or area in a building, you need to work on the premise there are other people or animals present.

A man’s gruff voice drifted through the partially open window. What are we going to do until Walt gets back? The other man grunted. There was silence before the first man spoke again Hey, Zeke, you think Walt would care if we had fun with the guy he brought back?

There was another pause before Zeke answered. Nah. He’s going to kill him anyway. Let’s go waste some time making him regret butting into our business.

Jill hadn’t seen these two. They must be the guards left behind when the warehouse contained weapons. The two must have remained in the office while the others were working. Walt, the leader, must have talked to them, but with all the other chatter, she missed it. Lance didn’t see them either since their presence wasn’t documented. They might have arrived while Lance was on a bathroom break or getting food.

A chair scraped on the concrete floor, raising the hair at the back of her neck. Heavy footsteps then the squeak of hinges indicated they left the office for the bay. After waiting a few seconds and hearing no further sounds in the office, she tested the handle on the door, hoping it would open. It didn’t. Close to thirty seconds later, the tumblers in the lock slid into place with a slight metallic clunk and the door opened. It had taken way too long for her to pick the lock. The sound of her mentor deriding her for taking longer than ten seconds played in her head.

Jill opened the