Chapter 83 Jordan
EIGHTY-THREE
JORDAN
ding dong the bitch is dead that post was her suicide note
Jordan killed the overheads as soon as he got off the freeway and onto local streets. He didn’t want to arrive at his destination leading a parade of local cops.
But he was still driving fast enough to piss them off if they saw him. He gunned the Interceptor’s engine, slalomed between lanes, and entered intersections on stale yellows and fresh reds.
Driving a marked vehicle helped. Angelenos gave him a wide berth.
When his phone buzzed with an incoming text, he punched the dashboard screen to bring it up.
Ready to retire, Sheriff? I’m way ahead of you and I know where she is.
Fucking Silverman. What was he doing?
Jordan answered by voice.
Tell me where and stop messing around. She is at risk of self-harm.
No answer. No surprise.
Crawling behind two distracted drivers, Jordan hit the overheads again. When one of them moved out of his way, he gunned it again.