The concussion from the explosion hit them a millisecond before the blast of heat.
Tricked by the proximity of the explosive concussion, the airbags deployed, shoving the detectives against their seat backs.
The airbags deflated. Debris rained down: smaller projectiles at first, then larger chunks of metal and plastic.
Lane peered over the dash. Nothing remained of Jelena’s car but four wheel rims and an engine. The rest was blackened bits of wreckage. A door lay between the wreck and the Chev. The roof was lodged near the top of one of the trees. Flames licked up a Douglas fir on the left.
Lane picked up the radio while Keely surveyed the damage. “We need fire, rescue, and the tactical team at the southern end of the Stoney Trail Bridge. A car bomb has been detonated. The suspect is being pursued on foot. She is headed west.”
Lane dropped the radio on the floor. He looked at Keely. Her eyes were wide. She touched her right hip to see if her Glock was still there. Lane checked for his weapon. Keely pushed her door open.
Lane looked toward the trees as he got out. Man, I’m glad I can hear the traffic noise, he thought, noting the sound of cars accelerating as they reached the first of the series of foothills rolling up to the feet of the Rocky Mountains. He glanced at Keely. “Your ears okay?”
She nodded and took a step forward.
“You stay here with the car,” Lane said.
Keely shook her head. “We both go. Just tell me where you need me.”
There’s no time to argue. “Let me get to the trees. You stay behind the Chev and provide cover. Once I’m there, I’ll wave you on and cover you.”
Lane drew his Glock, walked along the bottom of the ditch, then up the side and into the trees. He walked past the garage door opener Jelena had used to detonate the car bomb. He looked downhill and caught a glimpse of her traversing the hill, making her way deeper into the forest. He turned to Keely and crouched, pointing his weapon in Jelena’s direction to cover his partner’s progress.
When he felt her hand on his shoulder, he pulled out his cellphone. “Put yours on vibrate and my number on speed dial. One buzz means Jelena is in sight. Two means one of us is in communication with her.” Lane set his phone to vibrate. Keely flipped her phone open and manipulated the settings. Lane pointed to the left. “You take the high ground. I’ll go down toward the river. Watch where you put your feet in case she took the time to set booby traps. Remember, Mladen said she only kills from a distance.”
“And remember, she’s protecting Zacki,” Keely said. “That makes her especially unpredictable.”
“Point taken.” Lane moved down the slope at an angle intended to close the distance between him and Jelena. After fifty metres, he crossed a paved trail zigzagging its way down the slope. The sound of sirens and the scent of smoke sifted through the trees.
Lane looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of Keely working her way from tree trunk to tree trunk about thirty metres above him.
Continuing to angle his way down, Lane holstered his weapon and used his hands to slow his descent until he could hear and see the river loping lazily east. He spotted a gravel trail and a set of stairs below. He reached the trail and eased under the railing. She’ll be expecting this. But she can’t watch Keely and me at the same time. And why blow up the car? It makes it almost impossible for her to get away. It’s like she wants us to hunt her down.
He kept his right index finger alongside the Glock’s trigger guard.
Jelena wants us to hunt her down and to protect Zacki.
Lane followed the trail. He looked down through a gap in the trees to the river. The water was turquoise. It turned into diamonds as the sun rose higher. He listened for sirens and traffic. Instead, he heard crows squawking, the river running, and his footsteps on the gravel.
He looked ahead and above. A fallen tree trunk was wedged in against three standing trees. It offered perfect cover. Lane kept his eyes on it as he worked his way along the trail.
The sound of a motorboat broke the silence. Lane looked down. The fire department’s riverboat left a white water wake as it sped upstream. There were three men in the boat. One looked back and up at Lane. Then the boat was gone.
Lane looked up the path. A preschooler ran toward him. Behind the boy came his smaller brother and his mother with an infant tucked against her breast. The father trailed them.
Lane holstered his Glock.
“Elias! Wait for us!” the mother said.
Elias was a blur of curly blond hair. He stopped, smiled at Lane, and ran past. The smaller boy ran after Elias.
“Sorry about that,” the mother said as she forced Lane to the outside edge of the path.
“Hello,” Lane said to the father. The man smiled back. “When you get to the end of the path, you’ll be met by police officers. Tell them what you saw. Now please get your family out of here.” Lane pulled his Glock out and regretted the terror that lit the father’s eyes.
He pushed past the detective. “Elias! Finn!” The man ran down the trail.
Lane scanned the trees and brush above and below him. On the downslope side of the trail, he spotted a one-metre retaining wall pressed up against a tree trunk.
He smelled a cigarette.
He looked above the trail and saw Jelena sitting cross-legged on the near side of a tree. She was smoking, a rifle cradled in her lap.
Lane held his arms away from his sides. She isn’t aiming the rifle at you so don’t initiate any action. The phone in his pocket vibrated once.
“Andelko was getting better, you know. At least he was much better before…” Jelena stubbed out the cigarette on the sole of her boot, pulled a pack of smokes out of her breast pocket, and lit another one.
“Before?” Lane asked.
“Before he saw the juggler.” Jelena inhaled deeply.
“Then he started to drink again?”
Jelena pointed at Lane with her cigarette. “We both wanted to leave the war behind. To start over. But war never leaves you. Andelko would drink to forget, but how could any of us forget what happened in the war?”
“I don’t know.”
“That night. That night after he saw the juggler. Andelko came home and started to drink again. Then he came after me. This time I fought back.” She looked past Lane to the river.
“You killed him?” She has the advantage here. She must have spotted me before I saw her. What is she waiting for? She should have kept moving west. She knows how to disappear. But she can’t without leaving her daughter as a suspect. Jelena has left us a trail to lead us away from Zacki.
“I killed him. I dumped the body in the water by the road. I thought no one would ever find him. But this summer was so hot.”
“And dry.”
“Yes.” Jelena smiled. “Very dry.”
Lane heard the honking of geese. He saw Jelena’s attention shift. He looked over his shoulder. A pair of geese travelled downstream. He saw their backs and their wings as they flew below him.
His phone began to vibrate. It stopped, then began again. It stopped and vibrated again.
It must be Keely. He reached into his pocket and flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Hey, uncle, it’s Christine. Uncle Arthur is acting funny. They’ve got him on some kind of painkillers.”
“Can I call you back?” Lane asked.
“You don’t have time to talk to me?” Christine asked. “What could be more important than Uncle Arthur?”
“I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you back.” Lane pressed END. He looked back at Jelena.
She leaned her back against the tree trunk. “It’s beautiful here. Like home.”
“You joined the Tarantulas?” Keep her talking.