Chapter 27
Bullets spewed from the barrel of the automatic weapon.
Muzzle flash lit up the night.
I took cover behind the door, but it wouldn’t offer much protection.
Glass shattered, and shards rained down as copper ministers of death cratered the window.
Before I could return fire, the thug bolted back to the SUV and climbed in. The tires barked, and the exhaust growled as the vehicle sped away.
My heart thumped. My veins flooded with adrenaline. I checked myself for injuries, then said to JD, “You okay?”
“Affirmative,” he replied.
Traffic had stopped in both directions.
I hustled to the Mustang to check on the girls, dreading what I’d find. With bullet holes in the bodywork, and windshields webbed and cratered, I expected the worst.
The two had hunched below the dash and were frosted with bits of glass.
“Is anybody hit?” I asked as I reached the driver’s window.
The girls dusted themselves off and exchanged a look.
“We’re good,” Tonya said, still dazed.
It was a miracle they were unharmed.
JD had called for backup, and the distant sound of sirens drew near.
Oncoming traffic crawled by—people gawking and taking cell phone video.
I gave Jack the thumbs up to let him know the girls were okay.
He looked over the damage to the Porsche. The driver’s window needed to be replaced, and he could kiss the original paint goodbye. He’d need some new interior trim pieces for the door as well.
“Are you starting to figure out this isn’t a game?” I said to the girls.
Squad cars and the EMTs arrived. Flashing lights strobed the night. Deputies managed traffic, and Jack pulled the Porsche to the shoulder.
The girls were evaluated.
When the EMTs were finished, I said, “I need you both to come down to the station and make a statement.”
“Why?” Paige replied. “You saw what happened.”
“I’d like to get your perspective.”
“My perspective? Some assholes shot at us and ran us off the road.”
“Why do you think they did that?”
Paige shrugged. “Deep-seated insecurity and self-loathing? Little dicks? Your guess is as good as mine.”
My eyes narrowed at her. “You’ve got proprietary information that Rory is willing to kill for.”
“Is that your theory?” Paige said, amused.
“It’s the best one I’ve got at the moment.”
She laughed. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
“Are we free to go? Are we being detained?”
A frustrated exhale escaped my mouth. I didn’t have any legitimate reason to hold them. “Yes, you’re free to go.”
Paige smiled. “Good.”
Coolant had leaked from the Mustang. It wasn’t going anywhere. A tow truck hitched it up, and the girls caught a rideshare. They hopped into a white sedan and disappeared into the night.
We wrapped up the scene, and I returned to the Porsche. I climbed behind the wheel and pulled the door shut. Loose shards of glass fell. Jack had a sour look on his face. Not only was his tooth hurting, his car had been abused. All things considered, it could have been worse.
We headed to the station and filled out after-action reports, then returned to the Avventura and called it an evening.
By the morning, Jack was in excruciating pain.
At breakfast on the sky deck, I asked, "Did you ever hear back from the dentist?"
He shook his head. "She never returned my call."
"You need to call the office again."
"The soft tissue around the tooth prep is ulcerated. Hurts like a son-of-a-bitch."
"You need to get on that before the day gets going,” I said.
"Their office should be open soon. I'll call and see if I can get hold of anyone." Jack pulled out his phone and dialed the office. He put the call on speakerphone and set it on the table while he finished eating breakfast.
It rang a few times before Pepper answered in a distraught voice. "Hello?"
"Pepper, it’s Jack Donovan."
On the verge of tears, Pepper said, "Thank God you called. Can you come to the office right away!?”
"Sure. What's going on?"
"I just got here.” Her throat tightened, and she cried, “Dr. Latham is dead.”