Page 32 of The Harborer
Her relief was a living, breathing thing that moved through her entire body and showed itself in her face. “Thank you,” she breathed.
“Of course.” He bit back the rest of what he wanted to say because it didn’t seem like the right time to tell her he would do almost anything for her.
Chapter 12
The Chase
Shane had been cruisinghighways and county roads for over three hours when Amy called. “Anything yet?” The distress in her voice caused his own to spike. All he wanted to do was take her worry away, but he was getting nowhere.
“Nothing. You?”
“No, and his phone goes instantly to voicemail. Hailey just drove by, and he’s not home. I was hoping to get away and wait for him there, but we’re swamped more than usual this morning.”
“Your marketing plan paid off, Barista Amy.” She didn’t respond to his attempt at lightening her mood, so he reverted to his sober tone. “You keep taking care of your customers, and I’ll keep looking for Micky. I’m in constant touch with Dispatch, and they’ve got nothing to report, which is a good thing. I’ll call you the minute I hear or see anything, okay?” Her reply came in theform of a shaky sigh. “Look, I know it’s hard, but try not to worry. I have a feeling he’ll turn up.” What Shanedidn’tdo was assure her that Micky was fine and would make an appearance after whoever he was boning got sick of him and threw him out of her bed. Either way, sharing his suspicions aloud wouldn’t help Amy—it would simply cause more fissures to form in her fragile mettle.
She thanked him and hung up, and he continued his slow roll along the highway, eyes probing the forest for any trace of Micky.
The scene was a trip into Déjà Vu World, taking Shane back to a time when his father had left and fallen off the face of the earth. He’d been a state trooper, and they’d thrown their resources at searching for him. So had Shane, enlisting help from everyone he knew. Though they’d combed the wilderness, they’d never turned up any signs of him. His father’s actions were the reason Shane could never work for the Colorado State Patrol. If he made a move now, it would have to be to a different county.
He shook off the disquieting memory and the anger it usually stirred up. His dad had been a fuck-up, a disgrace to the uniform, and Shane didn’t have the bandwidth to allow thoughts of him to hijack his brain. On those occasions when he did let his father occupy a corner of his mind, that space tended to expand until it sappedallof Shane’s brainpower. He couldn’t let that happen right now.
Head on a swivel, his gaze methodically sweeping the embankments on either side of the pavement, Shane crept along the highway. Shadows crowded between the tall evergreen trunks, making it nearly impossible to see beyond the first line of trees.
“Where the hell are you, Allen?” he said aloud. The question was the same one he’d repeated to himself and the universe since he’d started his search.
A silver SUV on the other side of the two-lane highway interrupted the pointless loop in his head. As it approached, hespotted a broken headlight and the vehicle’s unusually slow speed. The light wasn’t a hazard right now, but in a few hours, darkness would settle over these twisty mountain roads. Running without a functioning headlight in those conditions wasn’t only illegal, it was downright dangerous.
Shane’s attention zipped to the vehicle’s front plate; there wasn’t one. Then motion on the passenger side snagged his eye. He caught a glimpse of someone ducking down, and something familiar about the form registered, tickling the back of his brain. As the vehicle came closer, he immediately zeroed in on two more red flags: The driver with his beanie pulled so low Shane almost didn’t catch how his eyes darted left to right and back again, and the missing license plate at the rear of the vehicle. Not even a temporary tag.
Despite the driver’s attempts to hide his features, Shane recognized him. Suspicion surged and locked his senses into gear. On high alert now, he drove onto the shoulder, yanked the magnetic emergency light from under his seat, and slapped it onto the roof. He flipped a Uey and gunned the engine. The silver SUV accelerated.
Pulse picking up speed, Shane keyed his radio. “Central, this is 431. I’m off duty, and I’ve got a silver SUV, no visible rear plate, northbound on 550 near mile marker thirty-two. Attempting a traffic stop.”
Donna’s voice immediately crackled on the radio. “Copy, 431.”
Instead of slowing, the SUV increased its distance.
Really? You wanna do this?“Central, vehicle’s not yielding. I’m initiating pursuit. Northbound 550, now approaching marker thirty-three. Late-model Chevy Tahoe, male driver, possible second occupant. Speed’s at fifty-three and climbing.”
“Copy, 431. Pursuit acknowledged. Advise road and weather conditions.”
“Road’s dry but temps are low—maybe thirty degrees, with possible snow oncoming. Visibility good, no traffic. Twisting grade coming up.”
The Tahoe whipped around a sharp corner, but no brake lights came on. Either the lights didn’t work, or the driver was taking the curve hot.
“Come on, man, don’t be stupid,” Shane muttered to himself as he stepped on the gas. To Donna, he said, “Central, suspect vehicle just passed marker thirty-four, hitting seventy-one.” An object flew from the Tahoe. “Tossed an item from the passenger window—looks like a bag or packet. Steep drop. Need to come back for it.”
“Copy, item discarded, marker thirty-four. Logging GPS for recovery.”
Shane rounded the curve, braking to stay in his lane. More turns lay ahead, but enough of the highway was visible so that he could see a fuel truck coming from the opposite direction up ahead, a string of six cars bringing up the rear.
Shit!He gripped the steering wheel. “Be advised, oncoming propane tanker southbound, multiple vehicles in tow. I’m slowing. Traffic risk too high to continue.”
The propane truck flashed its lights, blasted its horn, and the SUV swerved to the right, narrowly avoiding a collision. The glow of its brake lights winked on and quickly went out as it passed the cars.
Brake lights are operational after all.Small consolation. With the way the idiot was driving, his chances of taking out an innocent driver were sky-high.
Donna’s voice echoed in the cab. “Copy. Disengaging pursuit. Do you require backup at dump site?”
