Page 50 of S.O.S. Billboard

When he unclenched his teeth, he let the team know he was still in pursuit. “I’m on the van,” he said.

“I see you,” Del answered, “and I’m thirty seconds behind. Don’t lose him BB.”

“I don’t plan to,” Billboard answered.

Billboard managed a glance in his rearview, seeing Del. Butshit. Somehow Murphy was still in the chase. He must have made it to the median, then backtracked to the exit on the grassy shoulder.

Dels’ growl let Billboard know that the boss had spotted the cop, too. “Listen, can you and O’Shea handle the kidnappers? Ihave a feeling I’m going to be busy trying to keep Murphy off your tail.”

Billboard almost wanted to laugh. Looking behind him, he could see Del’s vehicle swerving from side to side, running interference so Murphy’s car couldn’t pass.

Billboard looked at O’Shea to answer.

“Hell, yeah,” she told Del. “We’re good. And after we take down our perps, you better keep me away from Murphy, because he’s asking for a beat-down.”

Daire’s amused voice responded. “Steven heard that, and he says as long as there’s no broken bones, he’ll look the other way.”

Billboard knew that the detective was joking, but Billboard’s girl wasn’t blowing smoke. She was tough to stop when she…

Whoa. Hisgirl?What the fuck?

Billboard swallowed. His brain must have short circuited.

A woman like O’Shea didn’t belong to anybody, and she’d probably throat-punch him if she caught wind that Billboard was being weirdly possessive. But…his girl? When had he ever been proprietary over a female, and why wasn’t his head exploding because of it?

Good questions, both, but with the van speeding up ahead, Billboard needed to shelve things for the time being, take care of business, then freak out when everything was finally taken care of.

He took one hand off the wheel and reached for a shoulder holster, of which he had two. Pulling out his Glock 45, he handed it to O’Shea, butt first. “You might need this,” he said gruffly.

She smirked. “Even though I’m not licensed?” She threw his words back at him, then continued to poke. “And seriously? You’re keeping your Sig 9 mil to yourself?” she added cheekily. “Youknowthat’s my preferred weapon.”

Billboard huffed. There was nothing to fight about. He was just as proficient with either. “Fine. You can—”

“I’m dicking with you,” O’Shea snorted. “Lighten up. We need our bodies loose and our wits about us. I’m good with this.” She lifted the gun to check the chamber.

“There’s a round already in it,” Billboard added gruffly.

She checked anyway, then tucked the weapon into the back of her waistband. “Cool. I promise I won’t use it unless I’m forced to,” she assured him smartly, then got serious. “I’d rather we do this without any bullets flying.”

The chance for collateral damage was always a worry, and Billboard agreed with her one-hundred percent.

He looked ahead and saw what he’d been waiting for. “We have an opportunity to make our move.” He gestured to the line of traffic preceding them that was just stopping at a light turning from green to yellow. The line-up was one car, the van, then three more vehicles in front of the Bronco. Not ideal for civilian casualties, but not bad, either.

Luckily, too, the suspects were trapped in place until the light changed, since there was no room for the van to maneuver around the intersection, nor any convenient side streets down which they could disappear.

Billboard was already slowing to a crawl. “As soon as I throw it in park, we get out and run to the van. I’ll take the driver’s side, you take—”

O’Shea hadn’t heard him. She’d opened her door and jumped out while he was still moving. What the fuck? Did the woman want to get herself killed?

He watched as she sped around the three cars separating them from their quarry, approaching the van and quietly turning the handles on the back doors.

They didn’t open.

Billboard slammed the Bronco into park, wrenched open his door, and hit the ground running in time to see O’Shea climbingup the back of the van to carefully and silently frog-walk the length of the roof.

“Fuck!”

What was the woman trying to do? Get herself killed?

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