just in case. Five gallons of gasoline and, poof , there goes the evidence.”
I glanced over at him as the shifting lights washed his face. “Is doom and gloom your default mode, Bill?”
“For a while, yeah.” He sighed. “I ain’t a big believer in everything working out.”
“Let’s stay positive and do the job, all right?” I focused back on our perps as we approached the I-80 on-ramps. “South, baby, come on…”
The van turned onto the southbound freeway entrance and I kept an eye on it as we followed.
“Shit, he’s rabbiting,” Bill said.
I swore. He’d seen it before I had, that the heavily laden van was accelerating far faster than it needed to. “They must have spotted us, gotten suspicious,” I said as I downshifted and accelerated, thumbing the button to kick in the supercharger.
Molly leaped forward as the blower screamed like a fighter jet. I loved that sound, and I loved the kick in the ass even more as I took the sweeping turn onto the on-ramp at the optimal line, still accelerating north of seventy.
“Cal, back off! Cal!”
“What?” I snapped, letting the revs climb toward redline as we approached the merge.
“You’re confirming their suspicion that they’re being tailed. You’re gonna get the girl killed! You told me yourself this isn’t about busting them.”
“Crap. You’re right.” I took my foot off the gas and dropped back to the speed limit, watching the van pull rapidly away. My body shuddered with the excess speed in my veins, the natural stuff, better than anything from a needle or a pill.
“They might not even have seen us. Could be they just wanted to shake the bushes and see what they scared out.”
I slapped Bill’s thigh with the back of my right hand. “Good call.”
Bill put his head back against the rest with a faint smile. “Thanks. But what now?”
“I’ll speed up gradually, try to hang on to them.” I thought I still had their lights in sight about a mile ahead.
“Good luck. Hope your eyes are better than mine.”
“My eyesight’s very good, thanks.” That was one reason I didn’t let the bomb damage bother me too much. It could have been so much worse. “Looks like they’re heading east on the feeder.”
If I had the correct set of taillights they’d soon dump onto the freeway heading north or south. I strove to keep them in sight by accelerating, weaving among the cars in light traffic at about eighty. Given that the van had no rear window, I hoped that we would be impossible to pick out in the darkness from this distance.
When our quarry approached the freeway interchange I lost them. There was too much town and landscaping in the way, or maybe they turned off their lights. I floored it and Molly rocketed smoothly up to one-ten for half a mile, but by the time we reached the interchange I couldn’t locate anything that looked like them.
“South,” I muttered, sticking with my earlier guess, and held steady at ninety around the smooth curve of the feeder and onto the Benicia-Martinez bridge. Bright lights from an oil tanker sparkled in my peripheral vision as we passed Army Point and the pipeline terminus before hurtling across toward the multiple refineries on the south shore that fueled the California economic machine.
Two minutes and three miles later I admitted defeat. They’d had several exits to escape and we’d lost them. I slammed my palm on Molly’s wheel. “Dammit.”
“Dammit,” Bill echoed flatly. “Sorry, Cal.”
“Any ideas?” I dropped back into the right lane and cruised under the speed limit, still heading south.
“If I was still on the job or if I had ears on the street around here I’d try to find some word of the heist. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’re going to offload some of it locally for quick cash. If so, the big fish clue in the little fish, who tell the minnows, who tip off the plankton.”
“Plankton.”
Bill sniffed, looking away. “I always loved those marine shows.
I glanced over at him as the shifting lights washed his face. “Is doom and gloom your default mode, Bill?”
“For a while, yeah.” He sighed. “I ain’t a big believer in everything working out.”
“Let’s stay positive and do the job, all right?” I focused back on our perps as we approached the I-80 on-ramps. “South, baby, come on…”
The van turned onto the southbound freeway entrance and I kept an eye on it as we followed.
“Shit, he’s rabbiting,” Bill said.
I swore. He’d seen it before I had, that the heavily laden van was accelerating far faster than it needed to. “They must have spotted us, gotten suspicious,” I said as I downshifted and accelerated, thumbing the button to kick in the supercharger.
Molly leaped forward as the blower screamed like a fighter jet. I loved that sound, and I loved the kick in the ass even more as I took the sweeping turn onto the on-ramp at the optimal line, still accelerating north of seventy.
“Cal, back off! Cal!”
“What?” I snapped, letting the revs climb toward redline as we approached the merge.
“You’re confirming their suspicion that they’re being tailed. You’re gonna get the girl killed! You told me yourself this isn’t about busting them.”
“Crap. You’re right.” I took my foot off the gas and dropped back to the speed limit, watching the van pull rapidly away. My body shuddered with the excess speed in my veins, the natural stuff, better than anything from a needle or a pill.
“They might not even have seen us. Could be they just wanted to shake the bushes and see what they scared out.”
I slapped Bill’s thigh with the back of my right hand. “Good call.”
Bill put his head back against the rest with a faint smile. “Thanks. But what now?”
“I’ll speed up gradually, try to hang on to them.” I thought I still had their lights in sight about a mile ahead.
“Good luck. Hope your eyes are better than mine.”
“My eyesight’s very good, thanks.” That was one reason I didn’t let the bomb damage bother me too much. It could have been so much worse. “Looks like they’re heading east on the feeder.”
If I had the correct set of taillights they’d soon dump onto the freeway heading north or south. I strove to keep them in sight by accelerating, weaving among the cars in light traffic at about eighty. Given that the van had no rear window, I hoped that we would be impossible to pick out in the darkness from this distance.
When our quarry approached the freeway interchange I lost them. There was too much town and landscaping in the way, or maybe they turned off their lights. I floored it and Molly rocketed smoothly up to one-ten for half a mile, but by the time we reached the interchange I couldn’t locate anything that looked like them.
“South,” I muttered, sticking with my earlier guess, and held steady at ninety around the smooth curve of the feeder and onto the Benicia-Martinez bridge. Bright lights from an oil tanker sparkled in my peripheral vision as we passed Army Point and the pipeline terminus before hurtling across toward the multiple refineries on the south shore that fueled the California economic machine.
Two minutes and three miles later I admitted defeat. They’d had several exits to escape and we’d lost them. I slammed my palm on Molly’s wheel. “Dammit.”
“Dammit,” Bill echoed flatly. “Sorry, Cal.”
“Any ideas?” I dropped back into the right lane and cruised under the speed limit, still heading south.
“If I was still on the job or if I had ears on the street around here I’d try to find some word of the heist. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’re going to offload some of it locally for quick cash. If so, the big fish clue in the little fish, who tell the minnows, who tip off the plankton.”
“Plankton.”
Bill sniffed, looking away. “I always loved those marine shows.
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