Breaking Point by Jon Demartino

as hard as I could. The hollow "thunk" told me I'd gotten it just right. He fell on his face without a sound.
                  Melanie was starting to step toward me and I reached for her arm. She seemed a little steadier on her feet now. The cold air must have had some effect on her Scotch-dulled brain. As I took hold of her, I saw several men coming around the corner, calling out as they moved.
                  "Andy. Hey Andy, where are you buddy?"
                  Andy was, of course, breathing gravel out of sight between two cars.
                  Pulling her coat around her shoulders, I tightened my grip on Melanie's arm and led her quickly to my car. By the time Andy's pals located him, I'd helped her and her belongings into the passenger seat. As I slid behind the steering wheel and threw the car in reverse, I could hear some angry shouts and see some movement in my direction. Locking both doors, I backed out and swung the car around behind the building and up along the other side to the highway. Gravel was flying as I spun out onto 61 and tore off north toward home. Melanie was silent beside me. About a mile down the road, I could hear her soft snores.
                  After a while, I checked the dashboard clock. It was after eleven and I noticed I was running low on gas. I had no idea where Melanie lived. Her place was probably around Keokuk and I was now driving in the opposite direction. This was another fine mess I'd gotten myself into. I'd deal with my brother-in-law sometime soon. In the meantime, I decided to blame him for my present predicament. If it weren't for his catting around, I would have been gone from the parking lot and on my way home when Melanie Goodwin had run from her Wild West friend. I didn't know what would have happened if I hadn't been there, though. Maybe there was a reason for some things.
                  I'd been checking my rearview mirror since I took off from the Eagle and ever since I'd turned onto 218, the road behind us had been deserted. It would be difficult for someone to tail me without being noticed. I was, after all, a professional. It was also true that the road was so flat and straight that they would have been visible for miles. I kept my eyes on the dark pavement and drove straight ahead for another ten minutes.
                  Finally, a convenience store and gas station lay ahead with the lights still on, so I swung in between the two gas pumps. When I returned to the car after paying for the gas, Melanie was awake, looking into the small mirror of a compact and trying to arrange her face a little. She looked at me as I got in.
                  "Holy shit. Is it really after eleven? We're almost to Mount Pleasant, aren't we?"
                  "Just a few miles away. I don't suppose you live anywhere around here?"
                  "Not even close." She was silent for a minute. "But I do have a good friend who will let me sleep at her place. Just give me a minute." She opened her purse and brought out a cellular phone. In a minute or so, we had turned off the highway and were heading west on a two lane toward Hillsboro, where Melanie's friend, Amy somebody or other, was waiting for her.
                  "So, what happened inside that place after I left?" I asked.
                  "Oh, that guy, Randy or Andy or something like that, was fine for a couple of dances and then all of a sudden he was pawing me and trying to unbutton me while we were dancing. I shoved him away. Then I just walked off the dance floor and grabbed my stuff and went outside.
                  "I saw the rest of it. Who were his pals, do you know?"
                  "They were all from Chicago, down here for the Turkey Shoot this weekend. The whole bunch of them were in the store a couple of days ago and he recognized me. Just some city boys out in