Lightning Chasers

by Cass Sellars

  “Seed planted and growing, sir.” Mack’s voice betrayed her uncertainty.

  “I see.” Major Cash seemed to be digesting the statement.

  “Suspended, pending the investigation of my alleged insubordination and a brand new anonymous citizen complaint. Apparently it’s concerning my supposed harassment of a Silver Lake motorist, despite the fact that I haven’t made a traffic stop in over a year. I was told I was a loose cannon and a risk to the integrity of the department, sir.” She knew he could hear the weight that was descending on her now.

  “I’m meeting now. Be available, Mack.”

  “It doesn’t appear I have to work today, sir.” She was trying to sound unconcerned but this could end her career and they both knew it.

  He chuckled at her in spite of the gravity of what was happening. “Seems so.”

  “He took my badge and my gun, sir.” The move had been punitive. The department never stripped credentials on a suspension unless the officer was accused of a crime.

  “You have a backup at home, Sergeant?” He was clearly concerned for her safety.

  “Yes, sir.” She had a backup weapon in her gear bag but she hadn’t been without a badge in twelve years.

  “Be careful,” Major Cash warned.

  Mack disconnected her phone, walked outside the main station, and sat on the bench usually occupied by drunks and petty thieves just released from a night in lockup. Mack suddenly felt like she was walking far outside the lines. She had belonged to an exclusive club but now she was being made to choose membership over integrity. Mack believed she could only make one choice.

  * * *

  John Noles stood behind his desk and shook Major Mark Cash’s hand firmly. He held the documents that he had just read through. He ejected the disk from his computer and dropped it into the folder and then into a red glassine sleeve. He closed the flap with a tamperproof seal he initialed before passing it to Cash for his signature.

  “I’ll go as fast as I can, Mark. Tell her to lie low.”

  Mark Cash nodded as he headed for the door. He turned just before he stepped into the hallway. “I don’t want to work anywhere that makes this okay, John. I don’t want any part of what we just saw. Hit it as hard as you can, so I can stop punishing her for doing the right thing.”

  “I’ll do my best, Major. Thanks for trusting me with this.” Noles slumped into his chair and stared at the red plastic scar on the Silver Lake Police Department. The warrant forms were going to take him hours, but he couldn’t wait to serve them.

  * * *

  She called Sydney, the only person she could think of who could possibly pick her up at four in the afternoon. Suspended detectives didn’t get to drive their city cars, so she had to wait for a favor she hated to ask. It seemed that she had asked so much lately.

  When Syd arrived, Mack dropped into the seat without saying a word and jerked the heavy door closed.

  “Want me to buy you a beer or ten?” Sydney tried to make Mack laugh but understood her mood.

  “Just drive, wherever. I need to clear my head.” She fumbled with her keys before chucking them onto the floorboard.

  “Want to tell me what happened? Was it Williams?” Syd’s voice dripped with her distaste for the suspected criminal cop.

  “Yeah, it was him. I’m officially suspended. He took my gun and my badge and handed me some bullshit story about a citizen complaint and insubordination. You could see even he didn’t believe it,” Mack grumbled and tapped out a text.

  * * *

  Interim Chief Williams was on the phone as he watched Victoria Hyatt pull up to the curb and collect the suspended sergeant. Hyatt’s flashy car pissed him off him every time he saw it. Silver Lake wasn’t that big and he saw that damned Porsche everywhere. He returned his focus to the phone call and recounted the events of the day and the case he wished would disappear.

  * * *

  Syd steered away from the curb and pointed the car toward a rural part of the county. She let Mack stew as she spun through the radio dials and pushed the Porsche past the speed limit, enjoying the rush she always felt when the powerful sports car responded to her heavy foot. She turned down Route 45. It was a favorite drive for Sydney, only forty minutes into the county. At the end of the road, a small lake was nestled in a grove of trees that sat just off a gravel turn. She often drove there to read or jog around the lake in cooler weather. Mack could use a peaceful place and Sydney would share hers.

  A square of white eclipsed the back window as she glanced at the rearview mirror. She noticed the grille as the vehicle seemed to be attempting to pass them on the narrow road. “This guy is a fucking idiot!” Syd exclaimed.

  Then she noticed the license plate in her side mirror. By the time the realization of what was happening found her, it was too late to avoid contact.

  She gripped the wheel and attempted to steer against the skid caused by the right bumper of the huge truck. Sections of the steep embankment were bordered by a low guardrail which caught the small car’s frame; the driver of the truck continued to push against the Porsche.

  The Porsche overturned and teetered on the roll bars that shot up from behind the seats. The bars kept them from being crushed, and a fortuitous meeting with a thick stand of ancient shrubbery stopped them from continuing all the way down the very steep rocky hill to the dry creek bed below. Sydney felt a sharp stab in her side. She reached to feel for the cause of the pain when everything went black.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Parker padded through the loft that felt strange with Syd still not home. She knew Syd had gone to collect Mack from the station, but that had been hours ago. She’d assumed further case discussion was keeping her at Mack’s, but her calls had gone unreturned and texts uncharacteristically unanswered. She watched idly out the front windows waiting for the sweep of the Porsche’s headlights to announce Syd’s arrival.

  Finally she called Jenny. “Are you ready to send her back yet? The two of them must be driving you nuts by now.” She curled her feet under her on the sofa and sipped a fresh glass of wine. It was silly to miss Sydney after only a few hours, but she craved her nonetheless.

  “What do you mean? It’s just me and Olivia. I figured they were over there.” Jenny sounded confused.

  “When did you hear from Mack last?” Parker tried not to let her voice betray the mild panic she felt.

  “I don’t know, right before Syd picked her up, maybe? She was waiting outside the station about four this afternoon, right before we had the hiring meeting today. Oh, and she texted me when Syd got there.”

  Parker felt acid rise in her throat. “I’m going to check her phone. I’ll call you back.” Parker tried to sound unconcerned as she disconnected and ran up the stairs to the studio. She dialed Sydney’s cell phone number again, only to hear her voicemail answer. The biometric lock seemed to take ages to admit her into the loft and the wait to sign on to Sydney’s computer was just as endless.

  The GPS site had been saved as a favorite, a silly agreement they’d made to always leave the locator on their phone enabled in case of emergency. Parker had never had reason to use it until now. She highlighted Sydney’s device, registered as Drift 1. The hourglass spun repeatedly and Parker rubbed her hand absently over her stomach, which swam with apprehension.

  Sydney’s phone, reduced to a lonely red orb, blipped steadily over Route 45 and Eisenhower Road: idle time 1:53:45.

  Parker dialed Syd’s number again and felt a stab pierce her heart when, again, she didn’t answer.

  Jen picked up on the first ring. “I called Mack and no answer.”

  Parker snatched her keys from the table. “Meet me at Richard and Allen’s. They’ll watch Olivia. Leave now.”

  * * *

  Parker waited in front of Richard and Allen’s house, engine idling, while Jenny got the baby settled. Jenny had barely shut her car door when Parker jerked the gearshift into drive and hit the road.

  Jenny said, “Richard’s calling
hospitals and the state patrol with the cross streets you gave me.”

  Parker nodded.

  “I told them not to call 9-1-1, just in case, you know.”

  Jenny pulled out her phone, hit speaker, and dialed a number. Parker heard the call go to voicemail. Jen left a message: “Darcy, it’s Jen. I think we need to call Major Cash. I don’t know how to reach him. Something’s wrong.” She glanced at the GPS on Parker’s dash. “We’re headed to Route 45 and Eisenhower Road. Please call me back.”

  Jenny stared at the screen as if her mind could will the phone to ring. She looked at Parker whose tense fingers had turned white on the steering wheel. “They’ll be okay, Park.”

  Parker didn’t know who she was trying harder to convince. “They have to be. Sydney told me that she can’t breathe when she feels that something is wrong with me.” She caught a sob in her throat as it threatened to escape. “I can’t breathe.”

  * * *

  Mack tried to push against the door before she recognized that the angle at which she was looking at the ground was inverted. She hung awkwardly from her seat belt as she craned her stiff neck to further get her bearings.

  She pushed against the door at her side before searing pain burned through her forearm. She struggled to remember where she was. Drops fell against her neck and she reached up with her other hand to stem the water. Another drop deflected off her hand and she smelled the metallic odor of blood.

  She heard a loud muffler rattle against its housing. She wondered if a car would stop for them, but the sound faded away too quickly. She shifted painfully to her left as Sydney’s limp frame came into focus. A large gash had opened behind Syd’s ear and a slim shard of metal protruded from her right side. Mack heard erratic and shallow labored breaths, and she strained against the confines of the seat belt that lashed her in place against the passenger seat. She searched in vain for her phone, leaning forward, attempting to avoid the stabbing in her right arm pinned to the door. She slowly moved the shoulder belt behind her head, so she’d have a modicum of mobility without dropping her onto her pounding head. At least, she hoped.

  Mack gingerly walked her fingers along the ceiling of the dark vehicle and fumbled for the integrated phone Sydney had always used in the car. Her bloody fingers pressed every button she could find and she heard nothing. Mack didn’t know if the phone worked when the car was off. Was the car off? She spent most of her time in an aging police sedan for which a keyless control was much too modern a feature. Still, she fumbled blindly over a myriad of buttons and tried to talk to Sydney.

  “Syd? Sydney, it’s Mack. I need you to wake up, okay? I need your help here, Hyatt. This car is like some kind of space age rocket. We need to call for help. Wake up, Syd.” Her fingers still skimmed over the controls, now only barely reflecting in the dark. The road sounded deserted and there were no streetlights this far into the county. She racked her brain to remember where they had turned last. How long had they been driving, an hour, maybe less? She’d sat silently in her selfish funk for ages, not even saying much to Syd. A flash of light consumed her memory as she recalled a jolt before Sydney had grabbed the wheel and tried to correct the jerking and rolling sports car. Could it have been another car? Did a tire blow out? She couldn’t focus a thought through the misty film of her recall.

  The console where Syd usually stashed her cell phone was now suspended above her, empty. She tried to clear her thoughts and reason where the phone might be now.

  She felt along the ceiling liner under her head, saw the fresh blood on her hands. She wiggled her toes and clenched her major muscles to be sure she could feel her body. She was weak but knew Sydney needed help much quicker than she did. Syd’s skin was clammy and cold. She strained to hear her breathe now and wondered if the seat belt was doing more harm than good. She tried in vain to pull it away from Sydney’s neck but it was locked in place.

  Mack finally felt the heavy rubber of Syd’s OtterBox phone case. She had given Sydney so much crap for arming her phone like a SWAT member, but Sydney swore she could kick it across the street and still be able to make a call. Mack whispered a quick thank you as the phone lit up. She’d known Syd’s password once and fumbled through a few combinations. As she failed to enter the right code for the fifth time, she inadvertently hit the emergency call button which seemed to magically connect her to 911.

  Her head pounded with every syllable she tried to speak. In her head, the words were screams but the dispatcher seemed to struggle to make out her pleas for help.

  “What is your location?”

  “I don’t know, Route 45, I think.” She strained to make herself be heard. “10-50 with injuries, two occupants. SLPD 1952.” She managed a description of the car and requested an ambulance. She idly considered whether or not she could still identify herself as a police officer. Then she remembered that she didn’t have her badge. She felt a strange sensation wash over her battered body, and the edges of her vision became dark before they overtook her completely. The phone fell back next to her head while the operator continued to talk.

  * * *

  Parker felt a desperate knot building in her stomach as she turned onto Route 45. She’d held Jenny’s hand until the twists of the road made it dangerous. Now she gripped the wheel until her fingers felt frozen around the vinyl stitching.

  She heard a foreign sound escape her lips as a torrent of red and blue lights seemed to mound ahead of them in the middle of the desolate road.

  Parker pushed frightened tears from under her eyes as the smears of light served to blind her. An ambulance overtook the Audi as Parker slowed her car to a crawl. A highway patrolman flagged them to the side.

  “Miss, you need to turn around, the road is blocked.” He shined his flashlight at Parker who held up a palm to stop the blinding assault.

  “Can you just tell me if there’s an accident? Is it a black Porsche 911?” Parker bunched her fists to her face, praying he would say no.

  “I don’t know, ma’am. I’m just working traffic.” He attempted to stand back from the car and resume his duties.

  Parker heard her voice growl out the next words. “Is it a Porsche?” She knew if he was there, he knew the answer.

  “I’m just working—”

  “The least you can do is tell me, or I won’t leave.” Parker’s eyes bored into him. “You’ll have to arrest me.”

  He stepped back from the dark vehicle and keyed the mic at his shoulder. He held the radio close to his ear as he walked away from them along the white line of the deserted state road.

  He turned back as he released the transmission key on the radio. He seemed to weigh his words judiciously as Parker stepped from the car and looked at him intently.

  He held up a swift hand and ordered her back in the vehicle.

  “Tell me!” Parker bellowed at him.

  Jenny ran around to hold Parker’s arm.

  “The car is black—that’s all they could tell me right now. The license plate is DRIFTER.” He said the words quickly, watching the information make things worse.

  Parker felt her world go deafeningly silent as she saw Jenny speaking to the officer but couldn’t make sense of their words. She thought she heard another siren approach her. The rough asphalt cut into her skin as she knelt on the side of the desolate road.

  She saw Taylor Westin skid to a stop behind the police car as Darcy Dean bailed out of the Highlander. An older man in an SLPD raid jacket ran toward the highway patrolman. Jenny nearly toppled him when she left Parker and ran to grab his arm on the dark road.

  Parker thought if this was a single car wreck on a dark country road, no one would be treating this as anything but a tragic accident, but the cop Jenny was with now seemed to know it was more.

  Darcy reached Parker and attempted to pull her farther from the accident. When Parker realized they were walking away she plucked her arm from Darcy’s grip and faced the scene once again. She could hear Jenny asking for information as she frantically stared
into the riot of emergency vehicles. Each minute felt like hours as they waited for some news.

  The reflective letters from the SLPD cop’s jacket blazed against the nightmarish scene. Parker led the group that milled around him, waiting for him to speak. A sudden reverberation of helicopter blades beat against the inky sky and fired a spray of sand stabbing at her skin like a thousand tiny knives. Parker wondered briefly why she didn’t feel anything.

  He shouted to be heard as he angled to face toward Jenny. “Mack is intermittently conscious but she has a lot of contusions and abrasions. They think her arm is broken but she’s talking. You can ride with her to the hospital—I told them to take her to General.” He pointed toward the ambulance and Jenny nodded.

  “Major, what about Sydney?” Darcy asked. As if to reply by proxy, the helicopter lifted and banked sharply over their heads. Parker felt her knees buckle as she squinted into the funnel of humid, dirty air that whipped her hair around her face.

  The major waited for the noise to fade again slightly before he turned to stand where Taylor now steadied Parker against her.

  “Parker? I’m Mark Cash. Sydney’s in that helicopter. They think she’s got some internal bleeding so they didn’t want to take a chance. She has a pretty serious head wound and a piece of metal in her side which may be causing the bleeding. I’ll take you there now if you want to go. You can see her when she wakes up.”

  Parker thought he had kind eyes as he tried to explain that the person she had made a perfect life with was in a helicopter where people were possibly trying to save her life. She felt the air slow around her and she watched Jenny climb into the back of an ambulance that screamed past them.

  Darcy leaned into Parker in an effort to be heard. “Parker, go with Major Cash—we’ll handle things here.” Parker offered a tiny nod as she felt the major’s hand guide her to his patrol car.