Page 8 of Special Agent Murphy

Murphy, seeing her hand off the wheel again, cussed under his breath. Drivers came out of the academy with all types of abilities, from being good to great. He’d never been with one who had to have failed that course and must have gotten her passing grade by cheating or paying someone off.

He grabbed the handle over his head and prepared himself for a shit-show. They should pull her license or force her to take more driver’s training. The yapper should never be allowed behind the wheel, but they had no time to switch places. Stopping the car ahead became more important than his comfort.

They began crawling up alongside the other vehicle.

***

Kayti knew how to handle a car in normal circumstances, Quantico had made sure they had lessons. But the training instructor had come on to her, which made her miss more classes than she should have. When the examinations were being held, she’d shown him videos she’d taken with him acting like scum, and he’d given her the pass.

Then a few minor accidents had taken away what little confidence she’d managed to achieve on her own. Unfortunately, her comfort zone had been passed miles ago.

“Step on it.”

Angry, she swung his way, her hair again in her face. “You blind? I am.”

“No, you’re driving like a granny with bad eyesight. You’re losing them.”

“I know. You make me nervous.”

“Oh, my Lord liftin’… He bit off the rest of his harangue. “I’m not trying to make you anything. Holy, shit. Okay, okay. Don’t kill us. Look, just because you’re speeding doesn’t mean you have to whip your wheel from side to side. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, stay on the road.”

Their tires hit the grooves of the rumble strips built into the shoulder, causing a vibration. The added noise ramped up her tension. Driving turned into a nightmare she had no choice but to suffer through.

And the man next to her, his face pale, cussing under his breath, didn’t help matters at all. With every hissed swearword, she felt his frustration. He clung to the handle with his right hand while his other grabbed the dash.

Meanwhile, the car ahead took a wild turn that she tried to follow. And failed.

Shit!

They ended up in a ditch.

One too deep to drive out of. She watched the taillights fade and her frustration grew. She pounded the steering wheel. Dammit! Why hadn’t she made him get behind the wheel? She knew her limitations, knew her skills were pathetic. She zeroed in on the man next to her and felt the danger.

His unpleasantness made her shrink. She wished herself anywhere but sitting next to a man cussing a blue streak under his breath, words spoken so quickly she couldn’t tell what was said… except for the last rant which sounded very much like “silly-fuckin’-bitchy-incompetent-looney-tunes.”

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