If this had been any other time, I would have loved this. The problem was, I had one of my security people bleeding in the back, and two goons and a maniac who wanted to kill Tracy and me were chasing us.
When I called 911 this time, I got a man who took me seriously, the sheriff himself. Apparently, having one of his deputy sheriffs almost run over and his cruiser disabled had gotten the man’s full attention.
He gave us directions for how he wanted us to come into town. They planned to have a roadblock set up to catch Bill and his goons before we hit a populated area.
I wasn’t impressed when he suggested we slow down so they could catch up. I had no desire to be human bait. Then again, the two behind us didn’t have guns now. Unless they had more in the car. Frick!
“They want us to slow down so the police can catch them,” I told Cassidy. “At the road, take a left.”
The farm dog flipped out when we drove out of the field and down their driveway, precisely what I would have hoped one would do. Cassidy took a left onto the road. Shortly after that, I looked back and saw the Jeep pull onto the road as well. When he caught up, he stayed about three car lengths behind us.
“Why is he pacing us?” Cassidy asked.
“My guess is he’s on the phone with Bill. Watch the intersections.”
I’d just said that when we spotted the Corvette up ahead, blocking the road.
“What should I do?” Cassidy asked.
“This thing is a beast, and that Corvette will end up in a bunch of little pieces. Run him over if he doesn’t move,” I ordered.
“Cassidy!” Tracy screamed as we didn’t slow down.
She now had one hand on the roof and one on the dashboard. I hunted for a seat belt.
Bill figured out that his life was about to end and shot out of the way before we collided. I was glad our game of chicken hadn’t concluded with us crashing.
“You two are crazy,” Tracy said, almost in tears.
“Take the next right,” I told Cassidy as I secured my seat belt.
The Jeep was still on our butt, and the Corvette was quickly gaining. If the county guy hadn’t requested us to slow down, we could have easily outpaced both cars following us.
The Ford Hennessey VelociRaptor 650 had the chassis of a pickup truck that had been designed to run the Baja 1000. Hennessey got ahold of it and installed a supercharger, which they tuned to push the 6.2-liter V-8 to 1032 horsepower. Despite its size, the beast could do 0 to 60 in 4 seconds. It wasn’t my Demon, but it was quick enough to leave these cars in the dust.
We were now on the road that led to town. I looked at the map.
“Up ahead is the Vermillion River,” I shared.
“That’s the worst bridge. I always get nervous going over it because it’s so narrow,” Tracy warned.
As we came over a ridge, we spotted the roadblock on the other side of the bridge. Bill must have seen it too, because he sped up and tried to pass us. I looked over and saw his gun pointed at Cassidy’s head.
“Look out!” I yelled.
Cassidy slammed on the brakes. The Jeep was right behind us and slammed into the back of the SUV, causing us to fishtail toward the Corvette. Bill jerked his steering wheel over to avoid us. That caused him to clip the bridge.
Modern cars have all kinds of safety features, from collapsible steering columns and crumple zones to air bags. Bill’s Corvette predated all of those. The body of the vehicle was fiberglass, and it exploded on impact. Bill’s front tire caught the edge of the bridge, causing his car to roll.
Everyone sat in stunned silence at the destruction we’d just witnessed. I doubted Bill had survived that.
Then reality set in. Behind us was the Jeep with two men who wanted to do me and my friends harm. I slowly unbuckled my seat belt and climbed out of the car; my chest was hurting. I pulled both guns out of my waistband and pointed them at the driver and his passenger.
“Get out and get on your stomachs,” I ordered.
The goons looked at each other. When they didn’t comply, I put a round through the windshield. That got their attention. They both exited the car and lay on the ground. Cassidy had joined me and zip-tied their hands and feet together, so they weren’t going anywhere.
The police were still on the other side of the bridge because the wreckage of Bill’s car blocked them.
“We have to get Paul to the hospital now,” Tami said.
“Cassidy, you watch these two. I’ll carry him across the bridge,” I said as I gave her their two guns.
Paul was unconscious. I looked at Tami and could tell she was worried. I would never forgive myself if one of my security died while working for me. Ignoring the pain in my chest, I picked up Paul and began to jog across the bridge. Tami followed behind me with the medical bag.
I will never get the image of Bill’s mangled body out of my head. Tami stopped to check to see if he was alive or not. When she didn’t stay with him, I knew he was no longer a threat.
◊◊◊
Once we’d made it across the river, Sheriff Cochran and a couple of his deputies met us. They had an ambulance waiting for Paul.
“You go with Paul and make sure he gets to the hospital. I’ll go back and make sure Cassidy and Tracy are okay,” I said to Tami.
When I’d told the sheriff we had two of them in custody, he’d sent a couple of deputies over the bridge to secure them.
“Tracy’s going to be a mess. She needs you right now,” Tami said.
“I know,” I said. “And thanks.”
“For what?”
“I can always count on you. I’ll see you at the hospital when I get done here.”
Tami nodded and got in the ambulance with Paul. Sheriff Cochran was waiting for me.
“I need to ask you some questions.”
“First, I want to check to make sure my friends are okay. The guy in the Corvette has terrorized one of the girls for several years. She has a history of depression because of it,” I explained.
“Okay, I’ll walk you over the bridge.”
I did a double-take because it had been my experience that people in his position weren’t usually so understanding. He rose a few notches in my book for listening to what I had to say.
When we got to the Corvette, I noticed they’d thrown a tarp over Bill’s body, which was still in the car. I assumed that was so the press wouldn’t have gruesome pictures to release. I think they used them as clickbait. They usually came with a warning that what you were about to see was disturbing. Of course, people couldn’t pass that up and wanted to view them. Personally, I thought it was the worst kind of journalism.
When I got to the other side, Tracy looked up at me. She was sitting next to the car, looking off into space.
“Is he …?”
“Yes. He’ll never bother you again,” I assured her.
She stood up and hugged me.
“Good.”
Tracy wasn’t letting go as Cassidy came over.
“The SUV is messed up. We’re going to have to get a ride.”
I smiled at her.
“Did Paul really say you should drive it like you stole it?”
That made us all laugh. I reached out an arm, and Cassidy joined us in a group hug.
“Fritz will be proud of you. You did a good job today,” I told Cassidy.
“But you got shot.”
“And I’m fine. Come Monday, I’ll call Devin and get the whole team geared out in that Liquid Armor. Getting shot hurt like a mother, but I was able to walk away.”
“Let me see your chest,” Tracy said.
I rolled my eyes.
“Show us,” Cassidy ordered.
I pulled up my shirt to reveal the beginnings of a massive bruise. Sheriff Cochran saw it and grimaced.
“Son, you need to get that checked.”
Great! My mom was going to be all over this.
◊◊◊
Sheriff Cochran gave us all a ride to the hospital. He took Cassidy and Tracy to the station to get statements from them while I got checked out. Tami found me in an exam room as some idiot prodded my chest. She had her phone out, tapping away.