Page 14 of Wild Idol
“According to her,” the sheriff said, pointing at a mortified woman nearby, “A vehicle ran the sports car off the road into the light pole. A passenger in the SUV hopped out, put two bullets into the driver, then threw a Molotov cocktail into the sports car through the open top. That was all she wrote.”
I cringed.
Daniels shook his head in dismay.
“Shot and burned alive,” Jack said, wincing. “That’s a horrible way to go.”
“At least it wasn’t the other way around,” I said. “Do we have an ID on the victim?”
“As soon as the fire department is finished, you can run the VIN. Do you know what kind of car that is?”
“Looks like a Huracán EVO Spyder,” Jack said.
The sheriff’s face wrinkled. “A what?”
“It’s a Lamborghini.”
“Not anymore, it’s not.”
JD and I talked to the witness. She was in her mid-20s with long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had light brown eyes and a trim figure. She wore a sports bra and spandex biking shorts. The 10-speed she clung to told me she had been out for a late-night ride. Judging by her toned midriff, it was a common practice.
She recounted the story that Daniels had told us.
“Can you give me a description of the assailants’ vehicle?”
“It was a black SUV.”
“Did you get a plate number?”
Angela shook her head.
“What about the assailants?”
“I didn’t see the driver. The passenger hopped out, shot the driver twice, and threw the Molotov cocktail in through the open top. It smashed inside the car and erupted in flames.” Her face contorted with sorrow, and her eyes brimmed. “It was just horrible. I think the driver was knocked unconscious from the crash. The airbags deployed. I hurried to the car after the assailants took off, but there was nothing I could do. The whole car was already engulfed. It was so hot. I couldn’t imagine being inside the car.”
“Did you get a look at the assailant?”
She shook her head again. “He wore a mask. I couldn’t see his face. He was dressed in all black.”
“You don’t happen to know who the driver was?”
Angela shook her head again. “Do you think I’m in any danger? I mean, this looks gang-related. I’m no expert, but that’s an expensive car. I’m guessing drugs were involved.”
Angela had watched too many crime shows. Or maybe she was spot on.
“Did the shooter see you?”
“I don’t know,“ she stammered. “I don’t think so.”
I gave her a card and took her contact information. “That’s my direct line. Call me anytime, day or night. If you feel threatened or notice anybody following you around, get intouch. Keep your head about yourself. Stay conscious of your surroundings. Don’t go out alone.”
“What’s that going to matter if these people have guns? They’re willing to murder somebody in the middle of the street.”
“Is there anybody you can stay with for a few days?”
She nodded. “I guess I can stay at my boyfriend’s house,” she smirked as she thought about it. “Maybe this is just the thing I need to move the relationship to the next level. We’ll see how much he cares. He wouldn’t want me living all alone, vulnerable.”
I chuckled.
