Miranda braced herself. “Speaking of spike strips—”
“Hold on, everyone.” Parker tried to swerve, but there wasn’t time.
The Lambo’s tires hit the metal spikes and the car veered out of control. It spun in a full circle three times and crashed into the wall next to the road, jerking Miranda around like a ragdoll. The air bags went off and nearly smothered her as they hit her in the face.
Her ears began to ring. She could feel her heart pounding through her whole body. For a while she couldn’t see or hear anything. Slowly the sound of police sirens filed the air. Then Parker’s voice rose above the din.
“Miranda. Are you all right?”
She heard worry in his tone. She pushed away the airbag and saw his handsome concerned face. “I think so. You?”
“Yes. Holloway?”
“I’m okay, sir.”
Thank God.
Shaking all over, she climbed out of the car and saw two police cars had fallen victim to the spikes as well. A third had crashed into the second one and a fourth had crashed into the third.
Miranda craned her neck and peered down the highway. The white van was a tiny speck in the distance. So much for their valiant car chase.
Feeling numb with dejection, she turned back and gazed at the gnarled, smoking metal that was once Parker’s pride and joy. The sight made her feel even worse.
The Lamborghini would never be the same.
Once again she turned to gaze down the strip of highway as the white van disappeared from sight.
Anger flashed inside her. She put her hands on her hips and muttered under her breath.
“I’ll get you for this, bitch.”
Chapter Seven
Soon fresh patrol cars arrived on the scene. Miranda and Holloway talked to one of Erskine’s men while Parker called for a tow truck and a cab. After they gave their versions of what had happened inside the bank and on the road, and Holloway gave the officer details about his ex, Miranda strolled back to the rear of the Lamborghini where Parker stood staring at the wreckage.
She touched his arm. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s just a car. I’m glad you’re all right.” He kissed her forehead gently.
She relished the gesture, but she knew that Lambo had meant a lot to him. She decided to try to cheer him up. “Well, you were in the market for a new car, anyway. Right?”
He turned to her with a bland expression. “Was I?”
She’d thought he was going to surprise her with a new roadster to replace the shiny red Corvette ZR1 she’d traded in after she left him a month ago. Maybe she’d been wrong about that. Maybe what she’d done had stung a little too deeply.
Holloway strolled over to them, hands in his pockets. He looked like he’d lost his best friend. “Officer Stilton’s going to take me back to my car.”
Holloway’s Mini Cooper was still at the bank.
“You should go home and get some rest.” Take the day off he had asked for in the first place.
Holloway gazed at her as if she had just grown a horn out of the top of her head. “I can’t go home, Steele. I have to find Audrey.”
“The police will do that. There isn’t much we can do now.” And when they caught her, she’d be the first one to testify in court.
“Of course, there is. We’re the Parker Agency. What kind of a detective are you?”
“Holloway,” Parker said with the sternness of a boss. “Miranda is right.”
“I’m sorry, sir. But my ex-wife is out there somewhere. That madman’s got her.”
“What madman?”
“That guy in black who pulled her out of the bank. Didn’t you see him?”
Yeah, she’d seen him, all right. She folded her arms. “You think he’s the one in control?”
“Of course, he is. Audrey wouldn’t do something like that.”
Holloway didn’t know that. If she hooked up with a wild guy, there was no telling what his ex might do. She was his ex, after all. Maybe she’d changed. She sure seemed in control of her faculties to Miranda.
Still, maybe the situation was worth checking out. And maybe they could come up with something the police couldn’t.
“Okay,” she said. “Meet us back at the office in an hour and we’ll brainstorm.”
“Thanks, Steele.”
“Still want that ride?” Officer Stilton called from his patrol car.
“I do.” Holloway turned away and trotted over to the squad with a sudden spring in his step.
Parker stepped close to her and spoke in his low voice. “Are you sure you want to do this, Miranda?”
She lifted a shoulder. “If I don’t, he’ll go off on his own. At least we can keep him out of trouble.”
“Good point.”
Chapter Eight
The tow truck and the cab arrived, and Parker retrieved the two small bags they’d taken to the mountains out of the Lambo’s trunk, and said goodbye to his car.
First stop was Parker’s penthouse. Parker forced her to share a couple turkey-and-Swiss sandwiches he hurriedly slapped together. They wolfed them down at the granite counter of the sleek kitchen, then headed up the spiral staircase where they showered and changed into business clothes.
They had just finish dressing when Parker took her in his arms. “Are you sure you feel up to a meeting?”
He hadn’t wanted her to take on another case so soon. He’d wanted to hold onto their vacation time, let it linger a while, even after returning home. He’d wanted her to take charge of the team, but he certainly hadn’t wanted to put her through a car chase that ended in a crash. He was grateful they were both alive.
He pressed her close to him. “You’ve had a stressful few hours. Are you sure you don’t ache anywhere after the accident?” He began to run his mouth over her shoulder.
Miranda let out an involuntary gasp at the shivers he was sending through her body. Seemed like he was the one who wanted to play doctor. If she had ached, she didn’t any more. Except for him.
With a laugh, she pulled out of his arms. “You’re the one who had broken ribs a few months ago. How are you feeling?”
Parker’s gray eyes narrowed as if to grudgingly say, touché. “But you will slow down if you notice any side effects. Won’t you?”
He was truly concerned about her. He always was. But as she often told him, she was a big girl. And though she felt a little shaken after the crash, she could shake it off.
“I’m fine. C’mon. We’ve got to get back to the office before Holloway decides to take matters into his own hands.”
He reached for his suit coat. “Nothing worse than when someone you’re responsible for goes off on their own.”
He meant her and her history of doing just that. Giving him a dirty look, she grabbed her cell phone and hurried out the bedroom door.
She’d get him back for that remark later.
###
It was almost four when they got to the office, this time in Parker’s Mazda. As soon as they made it up the back stairwell of the Imperial Building and into the hall, Parker excused himself to go check messages, forcing Miranda to face her team alone, the sneaky rascal.
Okay, she could handle this.
Squaring her shoulders she marched back to lab where the group always met.
The Parker Agency lab was a spacious area, with a couple rows of cubes set up for the computer guys, a testing room with microscopes and special equipment for ink and tox and trace evidence analysis, and another room within, which served as the prep area for DNA testing. It was sealed and off limits to most.
That was John Fry’s inner sanctum.
In front of the cubes was an open space with a long counter mounted against the opposite wall where circuit boards, flash drives and other nerdy trappings were always scattered. The Parker and Steele Consulting team had made a habit of meeting in that spot, pulling office chairs into a circle to discuss the current case. Today was no exception.
Except it wasn�
��t much of a team. Fry had wasted no time in taking advantage of the week off Miranda had given everyone and was somewhere bingeing on junk food and video games, no doubt. And Wesson had gone off to New York for a shopping spree.
So it was just her and Becker and Holloway.
She found Holloway sitting in a chair, his head in his hands. Her heart went out to him.
Becker sat beside him. His dark hair curling around his ears, he stared at his friend and coworker, his big brown puppy dog eyes wide with concern. He had on wrinkled jeans and a periwinkle blue T-shirt that read, “Dad Mode Loading” with a process bar under it. Miranda had to smile. Becker was married to her best friend, who was expecting her fourth child—her first with him. The poor man was beside himself with excitement.
But happiness wasn’t the mood in the room now.
She eyed the missing pinky at the end of Becker’s finger and thought of Paris, of the shooting at the bank this morning, of the crash she was still shaky from, of how dangerous life could be.
Becker’s face was grim. “I can’t believe it was her.”
“Holloway fill you in?” Miranda asked as she pulled up a chair from the counter along the wall.
Becker nodded. “He told me where he was going when he left this morning. I was the one who said he should call you. I didn’t know it would turn out like that.” He held up a tablet he’d been balancing on his lap. “I followed it on the news, but they didn’t say who was robbing the bank.” Becker turned to Holloway. “Are you sure it was her?”
“Of course, I’m sure.”
“Parker and I went in with him,” Miranda said. “It was pretty tense.”
Again Becker nodded. “And then there was a car chase through downtown Buckhead. And Mr. Parker wrecked his Lamborghini on 400. I can’t believe your ex could do that.”
“That bitch tossed a spike strip onto the highway. She stopped us and four cop cars.”
Holloway shook his head. “It wasn’t her, Steele.”
Miranda gawked at him. “What do you mean it wasn’t her? I watched her.”
“I mean it wasn’t her fault.”
“She shot at you, Holloway.”
Becker’s eyes went round. “She shot at him?”
“In the bank.” Miranda pointed a finger at Holloway. “If she had been a better shot, you might be in the hospital right now. Or worse.”
Holloway looked down at his shoes. He shook his head. “You don’t get it, Steele.”
She drew in a breath, trying to summon some of Parker’s famous patience. “What don’t I get?”
“Audrey would never do something like that.”
Miranda put a hand to her head feeling a migraine coming on. “But she did.”
“She isn’t like that.”
She sure looked like the real deal to her. “What do you mean?”
Holloway got up and paced over to the door to the testing room. “When we were married, she’d go berserk every time I drove over the speed limit. She ate the same thing for breakfast every day. Wheat Chex with exactly half a cup of skim milk. She kept the checkbook, kept track of every penny. One night she stayed up until three over a five cent discrepancy.”
“Okay. So she’s a rule follower.” Or she was. Miranda couldn’t help noting the similarity to Gen.
“Right. Never in a million years would she rob a bank. It just isn’t her.”
“Maybe she’s changed. How long since you even spoke to her?”
Holloway put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor. “We split up three years and a few months ago. We texted a bit for awhile. I guess it’s been about four or five months since her last one.”
She blinked at him. She hadn’t known Holloway was keeping in touch with his ex. “So you have her number?”
“Yeah.”
He reached into his pocket as the next words came out of her mouth. “Call her now.”
He dialed the number and put it on speaker.
Miranda held her breath as the phone’s ring echoed against the Lab’s walls.
After two rings a dark, booming voice came over the speaker. “Yes?”
She recognized him instantly. “Lieutenant Erskine?”
“Ms. Steele?”
“Did we call Audrey Wilson’s phone?”
“You did. She left it on the floor of the bank. We were hoping she might call to try to find it. How did you get the number?”
“Detective Holloway had it. Have you made any progress in finding her yet?”
“Not as yet. Has your team?”
“Not really. We’ll let you know if we do. Sorry to bother you.” And she pressed the button to hang up.
Miranda fixed Holloway with her gaze. “A rule follower who leaves her phone behind? It proves she’s unstable.”
Shaking off her stare he paced back to his seat and sat down. “That’s not the point. It was that guy.”
The one in the bank sitting on the floor behind Audrey. The one who pulled her out the back.
“Yeah, okay. If she was with this guy he’s probably got some influence over her.”
Becker looked back and forth between them. “What kind of influence?”
Holloway made a guttural sound of disgust. “Spit it out, Steele. You mean she’s in love with him.”
“Something like that. Sometimes when you’re in a relationship with the wrong sort, you do things you might not otherwise do. Things against your better judgment.”
Like clean up the mess after he tosses the diner you cooked all over the floor. Or go looking for ice cream in the middle of the night in a bad part of town. But that was her time with Leon. Some women just go for the wild type, and if the guy is into criminal activity, they get mixed up in it, too.
Waving his hands in the air Holloway rose again and paced back to the testing room door. “Not Audrey. I’m telling you. That guy’s got her brainwashed.”
Miranda folded her arms and thought about how the guy had touched the back of Audrey’s knee. She’d thought he’d been touching a pressure point. But it had been Audrey who’d pulled the trigger of her handgun. Several times.
Becker was fiddling with the device on his lap. “You mean this guy?” He held up the tablet.
A news show was running on the screen, displaying a grainy photo of a guy dressed in dark clothes. His black leather jacket was flung open, his dark hair suspended in midair around an Asian looking face as he ran. His expression said desperation. He clutched Audrey’s hand, but she was a blur behind him. A surveillance camera in the back must have caught them as they were leaving the bank.
A newswoman was giving details.
“Turn it up,” Miranda said.
Becker tapped on the screen and the reporter’s voice filled the room as a still of Audrey from the feed on the bank floor appeared.
“This is the woman suspected of the shootings that took place early this afternoon at the downtown institution. According to eye-witnesses, the woman wounded both a bank clerk and a SWAT officer in the rampage at the bank. Both victims were taken to Grady Hospital. Our sources state the SWAT officer is in stable condition. The bank clerk was shot through the shoulder and is in critical condition, but expected to live.”
At least Audrey wouldn’t be going down for murder. Yet.
“The two suspects sent the police on a high speed chase down 400 this afternoon, assisted by Wade Parker and Miranda Steele of the Parker Investigative Agency.” The picture switched to the news chopper’s aerial view of the race down the highway. The white van swerved as it changed lanes, while Parker’s Lamborghini followed close behind.
Good grief.
The newswoman reappeared. “At this time the suspect is unidentified. If you have any information about her, please call the Crime Stoppers number on the screen.”
Holloway waved his hands in the air. “Unidentified? I told them who she is.”
“Maybe Erskine wants someone else to verify her identity before they let the public know.”
> “We’ve got to find her, Steele. If you won’t help I’ll do it myself.”
Yeah, she’d like to help put that crazy lady behind bars. “Okay.” She turned to Becker. “Can you capture that image of the guy Audrey was with?”
“Sure can.”
“That’s something to start with. Run it through the facial recognition program. We can do a search for recent data on Audrey, too. Find out where she’s staying, where she works. Wait. Didn’t she say she was in a movie?”
Holloway nodded. “Yeah. She always wanted to act or sing. I never thought she was very good at either, but it was her dream.”
Miranda remembered Wesson telling her something about that. It was why Audrey left the marriage. One reason, anyway.
“Okay. Look for movie companies shooting in Atlanta now. Porn companies, too.”
Holloway’s eyes blazed. “Steele.”
“We’ve got to cover all the bases.” And if that guy in the black leather jacket was a porn producer, that theory would fit perfectly.
There was a knock on the door. Without waiting for a reply, Gen stepped inside the room.
She’d softened her normally rigid look and had on a diamond patterned ruby dress with a V neck and long sleeves. With her white-blond hair and her tall, slender body she almost looked like a fashion model.
But she wasn’t posing today.
Her face registered cautious alarm as she glared at Holloway. “I heard you were involved in that bank robbery that’s been on the news.”
Miranda remembered Gen coming to her during her last case and asking her not to send Holloway into any dangerous situations. Before she could think of something to say to cover for him, the reporter on Becker’s tablet interrupted.
“Correction,” she said. “The suspect in today’s shooting has been identified as Audrey Agnes Wilson of Austin, Texas. Her accomplice is still unidentified. Our sources tell us Ms. Wilson was divorced three years ago. Her married name was Holloway. That information may help in locating her whereabouts.” She repeated the plea to call Crime Stoppers.
Oh boy.
Gen stared at Holloway with her large dark eyes. “That—that was your ex? At the bank robbery?”
Mind Bender Page 4