'You are assuming she'll stop,' Maria said.
'She will,' her husband said. 'If she doesn't brake willingly, I'll stop the car in front of her.'
'What if she's armed?' Maria asked.
'I'll keep my mouth shut tight,' he replied.
Maria frowned disapprovingly. 'With a gun, not a hypodermic.'
'I'll watch myself,' McCaskey assured her. 'Crossing the highway will be the tough part.'
McCaskey did not usually crack wise in situations like this. Something about Maria's gravity had touched and amused him. This was not like Madrid, where they had been former lovers as well as grumpy and reluctant allies. This was not even like the stakeout for Ed March on Monday morning. This was the first case they had worked together since getting married. Maria was showing concern. He had wanted to try to minimize that.
He kissed her cheek as he put the car in park and opened the door.
Maria maneuvered herself over the armrests and took the wheel. McCaskey ran in front of the car and waved an arm as he scooted across two lanes of traffic. Cars braked and horns whined. He swore as he reached the guardrail. The Mustang was about five hundred yards ahead, in the passing lane. He saw the passenger's side. She was traveling about twenty miles an hour, then suddenly stopped. McCaskey hoped that Lucy had not heard the commotion and saw someone coming toward her. He did not want her trying to get away on foot. She would have a considerable head start.
'Darrell, can you hear me?'
McCaskey snatched the phone. 'Yeah, Bob!'
'We're getting a thermal spike from the DSP,' he said.
'Meaning?' McCaskey asked just as he heard horns in the oncoming lane.
Cars around the Mustang were stopping. 'Never mind,' he said. 'I can see it. She torched the damn thing!'
'What?'
'There's smoke coming from the closed windows!' McCaskey said. 'She must have snuck out when the car stopped. Can you get a visual on her?'
'No,' Herbert said. 'We've got cloud cover on the natural-light camera.'
'All right. Call 911. I've got to find her.'
McCaskey started running. People who could not maneuver away from the Mustang were leaving their cars and hurrying away on foot. A man in a Ram 1500 had pulled off on the shoulder, five car lengths back. He was rushing over with a fire extinguisher. Just then, McCaskey saw red lights flash behind him. He turned and saw Maria standing on the roof of their car. She was tossing road flares, trying to get his attention. His wife must have noticed the smoke and stopped. She was gesturing toward the Ram. Through the smoke McCaskey could just make out someone climbing into the cab. That had to be Lucy. The Ram had a 5.7-liter HEMI Magnum engine. It was a truck with cojones. The vehicle would take the driver through cars and off road with no trouble.
Flames curled from the tops of the windows of the Mustang. The Ram driver hit it with a blast from the fire extinguisher. As he did, the windshield cracked from the heat, the spiderweb pattern shooting out from the center. A fire started with a cigarette lighter and whatever was lying around should not have gotten so hot so fast. She must have used an accelerant She was going to the airport, McCaskey realized. She had sprayed the contents of an aerosol can, hairspray or deodorant, in carry-on luggage.
McCaskey jumped the rail and grabbed the man about the waist and pushed him down just as the can itself exploded. It blew out the fragmented windshield and sent a small fireball rolling across the hood. Pieces of singed black Tumi luggage floated on the smoke like black snow.
Former junkies might not be slick, but they knew household chemicals.
They also knew how to distract the law.
McCaskey rose from the asphalt. 'You all right?' he asked the other man.
'Yeah. Thanks.'
