“Yes, sir.”
Black had gone through exactly the same thought process as me. If Roy had thought I was driving, then somebody else could have too, and thanks to my extracurricular activities, there were certain people who would rather I didn’t see my next birthday. Sure, the crash could have been an innocent accident, but on the other hand…
“And we need to find out who was driving.”
“I just started my shift, but I’ll check the visitor log.”
Oh, fuck. A fist clenched around my throat. “Don’t bother.”
Black raised an eyebrow.
“It was Bethany. I asked Bradley to lend her a vehicle, and she’s got blonde hair. From a distance, in a moving car…”
Roy came back. “A Bethany Stafford-Lyons arrived in your car four hours ago. The ‘purpose of visit’ memo says she was there to see the horses.”
Shit, shit, shit. How fast had Bethany been going? We kept the lane in good nick—no potholes, no overgrown bushes—and it was reasonably straight. And if I’d discovered one thing in the handful of times I’d driven that BMW, it was that it accelerated like a crazy-ass motherfucker. To sixty, it rivalled my Corvette.
I gulped down half a slice of apple pie because I had a feeling I wouldn’t be eating again for a while, and Black dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the table.
“Are you leaving?” Dolly asked. “Is there a problem with the food?”
“There’s a family emergency.”
“Oh, sugar-pie, I’m so sorry to hear that. Let me box everything up to go.”
I tucked the brochure into my handbag. “Really, there’s no need.”
Black’s phone buzzed, and when he checked the screen, he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door. I didn’t question it. Whatever grudges I might have been bearing, today they took a back seat to whatever was unfolding at Riverley. And from Black’s furious expression, it was worse than I’d first thought.
“What?”
He bleeped the car open, then tossed me his phone as he jogged to the driver’s side. There was a message on the screen.
Pale: Hearing rumours someone’s escaped from the brig at Norfolk. They’re trying to keep it quiet. Watch your back.
Ridley. Pale was still active military in some form or another. His exact status was hazy, but it made sense that he’d find out the news before us. A surge of adrenaline mixed with horror. Focus, Emmy. I’d long since learned to tamp down the panic and harness the rush it gave me.
“Well, I guess we know where the son of a bitch ended up. I’m driving.”
Black didn’t argue, just opened the door for me and carried on to the passenger side. Smart move. The drive from Penngrove to Richmond was a little over a hundred miles and usually took two hours. I planned to do it in a hell of a lot less. If Eric Ridley had come to take revenge for Kyla’s death, there was no time to waste.
The phone connected to the car’s speaker system, and Roy returned as I gunned the engine.
“The team’s on their way.”
“Hold them back. We suspect there’s a felon involved. Consider him armed and dangerous.”
“Understood.”
The delay wasn’t ideal, but better to pause, to take a breath than to send more people into a potential ambush. Our software allowed us to speak to more than one person at the same time, and Black’s next call was to Rafael.
“Where are you?”
“In the gym with Sky.”
“It’s possible Eric Ridley’s escaped, and there’s been an incident in the lane outside. Since neither of us believes in coincidences, would you mind taking a look?”
“On my way.”
I heard Sky’s voice in the background. “What’s going on?”
“Just stay here, Sunshine.”
Sunshine?
Another second, and Matt’s voice filled the car from Blackwood’s headquarters.
“Control room.”
“Take all our Richmond locations up to alert level one,” Black instructed.
We used a scale of one to five based on the DEFCON levels. One was as high as it got short of a full lockdown.
A pause. “Doing it right now.”
I liked that about Matt. He didn’t argue or question, he just acted.
“And send anyone from Emmy’s Special Projects team who isn’t in the middle of something critical to muster at headquarters.”
Why headquarters, you ask? Because for all we knew, Bethany was lying dead and Ridley was hunkered down in the woods near Riverley with a sniper rifle. We needed to clear the way. Carefully.
“One second…” There was some murmuring in the background. “That’s in progress.”
“Send four of them to the end of Riverley Lane. Nobody comes or goes. We’ll need the tech team on standby too. And investigations.”
“What’s happened?”
“Likely escaped felon. Eric Ridley.”
“That guy from the news? Who killed the politician?”
“Yes. At this moment, Blackwood has one priority: locating him.”
“Got it.”
Dan was next.
“We’re coming through from Chesapeake. Contact whoever you need to in order to clear the way because Emmy’s not stopping.”
Good choice. Dan had probably pissed off fewer cops than the rest of us and therefore had more favours owing. Black called a couple of his old Navy buddies and asked them to dig for information of the jailbreak, then Rafael came back.
“Car’s empty. Looks as if it hit a tree. The airbags deployed.”
“Any sign of the occupant?”
“No, but there’s blood on the driver’s door and crushed grass next to it.” Which suggested a struggle. “A woman’s purse is still on the back seat.”
“What about another vehicle?”
“Not that I can see.”
“Widen the search area.”
Another fifteen minutes flew by. And I mean flew. The Porsche did its job, I did mine, and Black did his. Sky was babysitting Tabby while Ana helped Rafael to comb the woods. So far, they’d found no evidence of Bethany or Ridley, but fifty yards along the road, there were fresh tyre tracks behind a stand of trees.
At Riverley, Bradley was helping Mrs. Fairfax to prepare for the influx of visitors. Dustin was on the other side of Richmond getting a saddle repaired, Sam was at work, and the grounds team had
