Page 58 of To Die For

When the speedometer blew past 100, Devine used both feet to slam down on the brakes. At the same time, while holding the wheel steady, he lurched sideways because he knew what was coming. The unharnessed man in the rear seat flew over Devine and smashed headfirst into the windshield. His partner in the front had beat him to that destination by a millisecond.

Mists of blood from the man who had once been behind Devinesprayed over him. Devine rubbed the other man’s corpuscles off his face and pushed him onto his buddy, who had fallen back into his seat with tiny shards of windshield sticking out of his head.

Both men were unconscious, perhaps dead. Devine didn’t really care which.

He undid his harness and slid out of the truck. Devine reached back inside to check for ID on the man closest to him when a shot blew by his head. It smacked into the bark of a nearby pine, blowing wood chips off into the foggy tendrils of air.

Devine drew his Glock and burned five rounds of return fire. He then reached inside the 4Runner and pulled the man closest to him out, dumping him on the ground. As another shot exploded into the SUV, Devine hopped back into the Toyota and shut the door. He leaned over the other man, opened the passenger side door, and used his legs to propel his bloodied partner out of the vehicle.

Devine harnessed up, punched the gas, and the Toyota leapt forward, its propulsion causing the passenger door to close. He had no idea if there was a way out up ahead but he had no choice for now. Another shot caved in the back window. He ducked down as the bullet smacked into the already wrecked windshield, laying down fresh spiderwebs in the glass.

As he looked up ahead, Devine exclaimed, “Fuckin’ great.”

The dirt road ended in a wall of fallen trees and large rocks. He slammed on the brakes, threw the Toyota into reverse, and backed up with the tires spewing dirt like a Ditch Witch. He next tapped the brake just so, ripped the wheel to his right, slid into a J-turn, laid down on the gas again, spun the wheel straight and true, the leather skimming under his fingers, and rocketed in the opposite direction.

When Devine saw the headlights up ahead coming straight at him, he lowered his window and rested his Glock on the top of the side mirror to steady his aim. They could be two futuristic knights about to have a lethal joust.

He emptied his mag at the oncoming vehicle, shredding windshield glass and front metal grille. As Devine crouched low, theyfired back at him, rounds pinging off door frames, hood, and grille and blowing out chunks of already shattered glass. But nothing pinged off him, which was what counted.

He used a finger to pop the spent mag, and dexterously inserted a fresh one using his right hand. He took both hands off the wheel for a second to rack the slide. He put the gun on the mirror once more, but before he could fire, Devine heard dozens of rounds of rapid-fire shots. He started to duck, but then realized they weren’t coming at him or from the other vehicle, which had started to swerve violently. At the last possible second, Devine cut the wheel to the right and flew past what he could now see was a large Cadillac Escalade. The blown-out right rear wheel was laying down strips of burned-off rubber. The back glass was also missing and the tailgate looked like a target at a gun range.

As he looked up ahead, he saw a single taillight ahead of him.

A motorcycle speeding away from the scene? He pressed the gas to the cushioned floorboard, but the 4Runner apparently had no acceleration left to give on that end. One of the bullets must have struck something vital to the truck’s performance, causing its speed to max out at sixty. He zipped by where the two wrecked and bloodied men lay in the dirt and kept going. The taillight was farther ahead and then disappeared as it hit the main road. When Devine got there, the motorcycle was gone. But whoever it was had saved his life.

He turned the heat up to blast level and still it was freezing inside because of the blown-out windows fore and aft, which also created an icy wind tunnel that made it feel like he was on top of Everest. He didn’t touch the scalp and hair on his broken windshield and dashboard because his ride was now a crime scene in motion. After a mile he slowed to a moderate pace and made his way back to Ricketts to keep his dinner date with Mayor Mercedes.

Devine wondered if it would be any more exciting than what had just happened to him.

CHAPTER

26

DEVINE PARKED ACROSS THE STREETfrom the steak house and felt the large, pulpy lump on the back of his head where the man had clobbered him with the butt of his gun. His fingers came away bloody. He grabbed his go-bag from the rear of the Toyota and pulled out a medical kit. He used it to clean the wound and then applied some antibiotic before smoothing down his hair. He checked that his clothes were relatively clean and mostly blood- and glass-shard-free and then crossed over to the restaurant. Whether Mercedes King was here or not might tell him a great deal. Devine figured it was all about the efficiency of the enemy lines of communication.

He walked in and was greeted by a young woman dressed all in black. He mentioned the mayor’s name and she escorted him to the rear. So at least the dinner reservationhadbeen made. If the mayorwasinvolved in what had just happened to him, she may well be hedging her bets.

The place was quiet, with only a few patrons hovering over their meals and wine.

The woman said, “I’ll show Mayor King back when she arrives.”

He sat down and checked his watch. Five minutes past eight.

Okay.

He picked up the menu and his gaze flitted aimlessly down the entrées. He would have been hungry, but for almost dying a violent death and having a pounding headache from the blow to his skull.

“Agent Devine?”

He looked up to see Mercedes King hurrying over to him. Shehad changed clothes and now wore a black pleated skirt and a white blouse under a short lavender jacket. She seemed out of breath.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Some unexpected constituent business. I’m usually quite punctual.”

“No problem,” he said, studying her closely. Her refusal to look at him maybe told Devine all he needed to know. Like she was talking to a man who was supposed to be dead, and she was mightily confused and disturbed by the fact that he wasn’t.

She slipped into the chair across from him and said, “So, how was the rest of your day?”

“So-so. Nice little town you have here. But once you get outside the official limits, it gets really isolated really fast. People could do anything to someone out there and no one would know it,” he added.

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