Shady Lady

“Yes, we’re northbound. Okay, thank you.” Shannon flipped the phone closed. “Keep us alive for five more minutes, if you can. There’s a state highwayman on his way.”

I exhaled in a low shudder. This baby had no more to give; the needle was already buried. When I glanced in the rearview, I saw the black SUV had steered through the crash—only the white car and a red one had collided— and the black thugmobile had more power than our ride.

“Hope he calls for backup,” I muttered, because one state trooper wasn’t going to take out a truck full of paid killers.

I zoomed past an off-ramp. I almost took it, hoping the black SUV would flip if I made them hit the exit too fast, but if they didn’t, then the trooper wouldn’t be able to find us. I watched them in the mirror, and a guy stuck his head out the left window to take aim.

I swerved right, yelling at Shannon, “Get down!”

Time for some evasive action. As long as I kept changing lanes, their bullets didn’t hit their intended targets. My hands shook on the wheel, and my stomach cramped until I thought I might barf, both from motion sickness and terror. The Forester couldn’t take much more damage before the shooters got lucky.

Finally, I saw blue and red lights flying in the rearview mirror, four of them. They went to work boxing the SUV in, aiming at tires, and doing shit you expect to see only in action movies.

I knew they’d want to talk with us about the incident, but I couldn’t stop here. If Montoya’s men saw a shot at me, they’d take it. This way, maybe they wouldn’t resist arrest. Montoya would get them out on bond before it became more than an inconvenience. I didn’t want the cops who had saved my ass—and man, I never thought I’d say that—to die for me. Clearly, the paperwork could wait.

I slowed way down and settled my driving as best I could with reaction shaking me like a 5.2 on the Richter scale. At the next exit, I pulled off and parked in the first lot I saw. It was a Circle K and the neighborhood wasn’t the best, but given how our ride had already been shot to shit, I didn’t see what bangers could do to us. I rested my forehead on the steering wheel for several long moments before I got myself together.

“You want a Slush Puppie? My treat.”

I sat up with a desperate little laugh. “Clearly I do.”

Butch crawled from beneath the seat and hopped onto my lap. “Thanks for the warning, bud. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

In answer he licked my cheek. Yeah, I didn’t want to find out either.

I tucked him under my arm as I got out to see the extent of the damage to Jesse’s SUV. Oh, Christ on a cracker. I winced: front end smashed, long dent on my side, bullet holes all over the place, and that didn’t speak to all the broken windows.

Once, I’d accused Jesse of having a white-knight complex. Only half joking, I’d said: You go for the bad girl, the one with problems that blow up your car, trash your house, and steal your wallet. It’s not her fault, of course. If she only had someone to love and understand her, that shit wouldn’t happen. I only needed to lift his wallet, and then I’d be three for three. Apparently, I was that girl.

Shannon came out a few minutes later, holding two drinks. She set them in the cup holders between us and I pulled myself back into the vehicle. Since the keys were still in the ignition, I started it up.

“Where do we go now?” she asked.

It was an excellent question. I presumed our safety had been compromised with Escobar’s men. Weighing the odds, I figured one of them had taken a bribe from Montoya, and I had no way to be sure which. That meant I couldn’t contact them again. Chuch’s house was burned out, and assuming he was okay and hadn’t given me up, I couldn’t seek asylum with him either.

I had to hand it to Montoya. He might be crazy, but step by step, he’d closed off all my avenues of help or rescue. If he didn’t crack first, he was going to kill me. For the first time, I believed it. Not even Kel could prevent it, if he was here. It was simply a matter of time and resources. And only the fact that the guardian claimed the risk of my demise went down after I cemented the alliance with Escobar gave me any hope at all. The situation seemed pretty fucking grim.

And then I recalled an untapped resource.

“The police station.” I remembered the way, mostly, but maybe not from here, so I brought up the route on the GPS, just in case. “We need to come in and tell them our side of the story before they start hunting for this vehicle.”

“In its current state, it won’t take long for them to find it.”

“Exactly.”

After passing Butch off to her, I put the SUV in gear and we headed off to face the music. Certainly, I was guilty of reckless driving, maybe public endangerment. If they printed me, they’d find a number of other charges, but no convictions. Chance’s luck had always taken care of that.

We drove in silence, apart from Butch’s occasional woof or whine. He didn’t like our prospects any more than I did. On the bright side, maybe if they locked me up, I’d be safe for a while, at least until Montoya tapped a guy in county.

Jesse’s place of employment looked more or less as I recalled, newer than some government buildings. I checked my reflection to make sure I didn’t look wild or crazy-eyed. I was thankful I hadn’t been drinking. Shannon touched up her eyeliner and put on a little more lipstick.

When she caught me staring with a raised brow, she shrugged. “What? You never know—a local reporter might be bored and looking for the nightly news.”

Oh, that’d be fantastic. I had a number of people hunting for me who shouldn’t find me. TV would simplify their efforts.

Still, I squared my shoulders and marched toward the front doors. Inside, I tried to explain myself to the guy at the desk, but he was harried and he told me to take a seat. We sat there for a good fifteen minutes, and Butch started to whine. Poor dog. I couldn’t remember when we’d let him out last.

“I can’t leave,” I said to Shannon.

She nodded and took him out front. When she got back, she filled his water dish from the drinking fountain. He lapped in sync with the flickering of the fluorescent lights overhead. By that point I’d lost patience. Too bad the trust me charm had no influence in the sphere of waiting to be served.

I went back to the window. “Look, we’re here trying to do our civic duty. If nobody wants to talk to us —”

“Ms. Solomon?” Even before I turned, I knew the voice. Sure enough, Lieutenant Glencannon stood in the doorway that led into the private offices. “What are you doing here?”

This is it. Showtime. I curled my hand around the penny in my pocket and hoped for the best. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the chase on I-35.”

Belatedly, I realized I should’ve gone to a state police outpost. Crap. Well, if my brain wasn’t firing at full capacity, I could hardly be blamed—and maybe this would work out better. The state police didn’t know me, but the Laredo police didn’t hate my guts, and the lieutenant seemed to have taken a liking to me.

Come on, charm. Do your thing.

“Well, sure. Ugly business. Drug dealers hassling a couple of young ladies, I hear from radio chatter.” His gaze softened then. “Don’t tell me you were involved?” His tone invited me to confide, rich with wanting to believe whatever story I offered.

Thanks, Mom.

“Maybe you could take a walk with me, sir?”

“I have a minute.”

“Thanks.”

Without explaining further, I just showed him Jesse’s ride. He could read the story in the dings, dents, and bullet holes. “What do you think about all this?” he asked.

“Well, sir, I was driving Jesse’s Forester. He said it was all right. Near as I can figure, they must have recognized the plates. I think maybe they thought if they could get to me, I’d tell them where you’re keeping him.” It helped to leave your lies simple, I’d found. The more elaborate ones tended to break down under scrutiny.

He was already nodding. A plausible story, added to the spell, and I might walk away from this without too much trouble. “That makes sense. And they probably wouldn’t believe it if you said you didn’t know.”