by Sue Coletta
What the victims experienced in those final grueling moments was almost too horrific to imagine. A cold, hard shudder ran through me. What if I never found the person responsible? What if I wasn’t the right hacker for the job? What if somehow I hindered the investigation instead of helped? These questions and more haunted me, but there’s one thing I knew for sure. The next death would be on me—my hands permanently stained with the blood of the driver.
Chapter 5
10:30 a.m.
Intuitively sensing something must be wrong, Levaughn called Lt. Holt and asked for a few days of down time. Through the years he’d banked more vacation time than he ever intended to use. Might as well take a paid vacation.
Flights from Logan Airport to Pittsburg International were all booked. The flights leaving from Manchester, New Hampshire were even more irregular. He couldn’t wait three days for the next available seat, not without knowing if Shawnee was in trouble. If only she’d answer her cell. Over the last twenty-four hours he’d called about six times. All of which went straight to voicemail, and his gut screamed in protest.
“Screw it,” he said, hustling to his car. It’d be an arduous nine-hour journey from Revere, Massachusetts to the Westin Convention Center, but what choice did he have? Something was wrong, evident by dread niggling at his side.
Behind the wheel, he got on to Interstate 84. Hopefully Shawnee would return his call before he left the state. If she didn’t, he’d soon have her back in his arms. Safe.
The highway miles flew by as he crossed into Connecticut. Not much of a view, with its commercial buildings that fringed the road and every fast food joint imaginable. Here and there, he caught glimpses of evergreen-laden mountains, but not often enough to arouse any peace of mind. All semblance of normalcy drained from his life the minute Shawnee’s phone call turned cryptic. It wasn’t unlike her to exaggerate a situation, but something about her tone implied urgency, panic.
Whatever her instructors asked her to do frightened her. Odd part was, in all the time they’d spent together, he’d only heard her rattled twice, and even then she tried to diminish the severity of the situation. Both times she had a valid reason for concern, too.
Perhaps she’d misconstrued what someone said at the conference. Otherwise, if Fords were in fact being targeted for some reason, he would’ve heard about it at work. Plus, within his own investigation into the mystery surrounding Caroline Humphrey’s collision with a telephone pole, Dr. Chavez ruled the manner of death accidental. The investigation ended there. Yet, due to pure curiosity, he inputted the details of the crash into CODIS, scanned the FBI database for similarities.
He found nothing to indicate someone targeted this specific automobile manufacturer. At least, not in the sense Shawnee intimated. Without her specifying why she believed all Fords were at risk, finding corroboration would take days if not weeks.
With each mile-marker that zipped by his window, Levaughn’s eyelids grew more and more weighted. Until finally, he blared the music to stay awake.
What a fool he’d be if this turned out to be a false alarm. Would Shawnee view his spontaneous arrival at the hotel as a jealous boyfriend stunt? Or, God forbid, a controlling prod to get her to reveal her assignment.
Yet, he kept driving.
If a scowl awaited him, so be it. Better to have a pissed off girlfriend than a dead one. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he couldn’t erase the doom coursing through his system. After all they’d been through as a couple, he owed it to her to do everything humanly possible to protect her, whether or not she asked for his help. She’d do the same for him. In fact, not long ago she risked her own life to save his.
Hours dragged on like days.
Countless miles sailed by before he took the exit for Interstate 376 faster than he should, tires screeching around the bend as the brilliant tangerine sun dipped its head in the pink-and-lavender dusk sky. Witnessing such beauty almost made the trip bearable. As he stifled a yawn, the area around him darkened.
“You will die today.” A mechanical voice interfered with Otis Redding’s Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay. “How long you suffer is your call.”
Seconds after the final word, the Crown Vic launched into high gear.
Chapter 6
7:45 p.m.
After my meeting with Tex, Nadine convinced me—berated was more like it—into having dinner at Bill’s Bar & Burger, in the hotel. Gotta admit, the place rocked. Black-and-white photos lined the back wall and the award-winning burgers were out-of-this-world amazing. To ease my unrest, I conned Nay into splitting a 60 oz. pitcher of Bill’s Brew, which we scored for half-price because we’d made it to the restaurant before happy hour ended. Little did I know, I’d have to practically carry her to the ladies’ room after her second glass. Live and learn.
On our way back to the booth, brown-puckered leather lining the seats, the waitress brought us a second pitcher. Some dude at the bar sent it over, probably hoping he’d get lucky with both of us. Pervert. I had news for him. It wasn’t gonna happen. Not tonight, not ever. But we still kept the beer. No need to be rude. To thank him, I jabbed my chin, flashed him a quick smile.
Nadine, on the other hand, waved at the guy, hollered, “Thank you” across the crowded bar.
Leaning across the table, I kept my voice low. “Don’t encourage him. He could be a rapist for all you know.”
Eyes wide, her whole body stiffened, froze.
“Relax. I said he could be, not that he is.”
She expelled a long exhale. “Whew. Okay.”
“You all right? You seem a little…I dunno…off.”
“It’s Christopher.”
“What’d he do now?”
“He just seems distant lately. Ever since I moved back in, things haven’t been the same.”
“Distant how, exactly?”
“Y’know, like when we’re watchin’ a movie or whatever he sits in the recliner instead of the loveseat like we used to do. And the other day, he kept gettin’ texts, but he wouldn’t tell me who they were from.”
“Ya think he’s screwin’ around?”
“Maybe.” Tears pooled in her cobalt eyes, and snapped my heart in two. “I hope not.”
“Nay, I promise you, if he is, I’ll kick his ever-lovin’ ass.” Scorching heat jagged up my chest. “That sonofabitch. Ooh, I hate that shit. You’re engaged for fuck’s sake. As a matter of fact—” I raised my cell phone— “let’s call the cheatin’ bastard right now.”
“Oh, I dunno. What if he gets mad?”
“What if he gets mad? You’re the one who should be pissed.” I dialed his number. “I almost hope he tries to pull that crap with me. Nothing would gimme more pleasure than to see him try to worm his way outta this.”
“Shawnee, please don’t tell him I told you.”
“I won’t. I’ll just feel ‘im out. Don’t worry.”
The phone rang once, then twice. I covered the mouthpiece. “I just got a kickass idea. Whatever you do, don’t speak, okay?”
She nodded yes. In return, I winked.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Hey, Christopher. Is Nay with you? It’s Shawnee.”
“Umm, isn’t she with you?”
“With me? I’m at a training seminar in Pittsburgh.”
“I know. Levaughn gave her a ride to the airport.”
“Really?” I glared at Nadine. “When I spoke to him, he didn’t mention givin’ her a lift. Oh, wait. He did say somethin’ about a surprise waitin’ for me in my room, but I figured he’d sent flowers or whatever. Where are you, anyway? I tried the house first but got no answer.”
“I’m…uh…why?”
Fury shot through my system. I’d castrate the bastard before I let him hurt my best friend. “Answer the damn question. Your fiancé is missing. If Levaughn dropped her off at the terminal, any scumbag could’ve grabbed her. For fuck’s sake, she could be being gang-raped right now.”
“I’m…umm…”
“It’s only happened a couple times. She means nothing to me, I swear. Please don’t tell Nadine.”
I curled my upper lip. “Address?”
“99 Griffin Street.”
“In Revere?”
“Yeah. Listen, Shawnee. I’ll never see her again. I promise.”
“Name on the mailbox?”
“Corsiva.”
“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.” Cell to my ear, I scooted away from the booth. “You’re screwin’ her cousin? She’s barely eighteen.”
“Not her. Patti.”
“The mother? You sick, twisted pup. She’s gotta be, what, a hundred by now?”
“I don’t have to listen to this. Patti’s a sweet person.”
“Absolutely, if you like fallin’ down drunks who still party like it’s 1969. I’ll deal with you when I get home.” As I was about to click OFF, Christopher called my name. “What?”
“Are you sending Levaughn to pick me up? I’m worried about Nadine.”
“Good, you prick. Maybe you shoulda thought about that before poking the walkin’ dead.” I disconnected. How could I face my best friend and tell her this?
Stone-faced, I slid into the booth and weaved my hands in front of me on the table.
“Well,” Nay prodded.
“Why don’t we have another drink first.”
“Oh my God, it’s true.” Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she dropped her face in cupped hands. “My fiancé’s havin’ an affair.”
“Nay, I—” My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. “What now?” I checked the display.
Levaughn sent a text: Help! I-376 W/US-22 W. Past Exit 74. Perp on radio.
Staring at the screen, my facial muscles collapsed in disbelief. Spasms shot through my system, the heart gutting from my chest. If I didn’t do something fast, he could die.
“C’mon.” I slapped three twenties on the table. “We’ve gotta go. Now.”
She raised her head from folded arms. “What’s wrong? Why’re we leavin’?”
“I’ll explain in the car. Hurry.” I hooked her arm and dragged her out the restaurant exit, through the hotel lobby, out the heavy glass doors, and didn’t stop till I reached my jeep, in the parking garage. With labored breath, I squeezed the key-fob.
Bleep, bleep.
“What’s happening? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t look in her direction. My complete focus was on saving Levaughn, my mind spinning faster than a tilt-a-whirl. Was I making the right move? What if I watched him die? I’d never be able to erase the memory. How could I live without the only man I’d ever loved, the only man to pierce the inner wall around my heart?
Gas pedal pinned, I plowed through the gate on our way out the parking garage. Wood flew in all directions. An alarm sounded. And soon, sirens blazed behind me, lights tumbling colors on to the dark road.
“The police are chasing us,” hollered Nadine. “Stop the darn car.”
“I can’t. Levaughn’s in danger. I might need their help.”
Eyes in a squint, she cocked her head like a puppy, trying to understand the English language. “Y’mean, you want ‘em to follow us?”
“Yeah. Why do ya think I demoed the gate back there?”
“What if they shoot out the tires?”
“Shoot out the tires?” Head wagging side to side, I tsked my tongue. “When we get home remind me to cancel your subscription to Netflix.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, you watch too many movies. Now, keep quiet. I’m tryin’ to think.”
“But you said you’d tell me what’s goin’ on.”
“A hacker’s controlling Levaughn’s car. If we don’t stop it in time, he’ll crash.”
She backhanded my upper arm. “Not funny. If you don’t wanna tell me, just say so.”
“Nadine,” I warned, “do I look like I’m kiddin’? Whaddaya think, I said to myself, hey, let’s destroy hotel property and go on a joyride with cops? Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”
“But how is it even possible to control someone else’s car?”
“I don’t have time to explain. Trust me, it’s possible.”
“Why target Levaughn of all people?”
“No idea. Maybe the hacker saw me diggin’ around. Or maybe, I got too close to ID’ing him.”
“Did you?”
“No. I’ve got no clue who he is, but somewhere our paths must’ve intersected. Obviously he’s spooked.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Nadine! Enough with the questions. I can’t think with you jibber-jabberin’ in my ear.”
“But maybe I can help.”
After a while I just tuned her out. It’s better than gagging her, which was next on my to-do list if she didn’t shut her trap long enough for me to plan what to do once we found the Crown Vic.
What if I hacked the car and blocked the cellular signal?
As I turned off Seventh Avenue, Levaughn’s car pealed around the corner of Grant Street going about eighty miles-per-hour, almost flattening two pedestrians in the crosswalk. For a split-second our gazes locked, and my mouth gaped open. The panic in his eyes tightened the muscles in my upper back into balls of pure stress, and I banged a U-turn in the middle of traffic.
At a pitch high enough to crack the windshield, Nadine screamed, “Ahhhhhhhhh!”
I slammed the shifter into fourth gear, then fifth, the gas pedal pinned to the floorboards in the hopes of catching the Crown Vic. Which, by the way, also barely missed the back quarter-panel of a sweet cherry-red Porsche.
I winced. If we didn’t wind up dead or in prison, I’d consider it a win.
Beside me, my BFF recited the Lord’s Prayer at decibels unfit for human ears, with one hand on the dash, the other in a death-grip around the J-strap. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day—”
I punched the dash. “Enough already. I can barely think straight as it is.”
Snarling in my direction, she crossed herself, but her lips never stopped moving. Silent, she refused to allow anything to halt her mid-prayer, including me.
Hey, whatever worked. At least I didn’t have to hear her yapping while I strategized my next move. Which, admittedly, wasn’t the best plan I’d ever had. Wasn’t the worst, either. Okay, maybe it was, but I had to do something. With Levaughn stuck behind the wheel while some dirtbag played chicken with his life, I couldn’t focus, my mind reeling with ways this might play out. Maybe once I caught up to him a less-dangerous solution would reveal itself.
Behind us, more patrol cars joined the angry mob. Sputtering sirens blazed for us to pull over. I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not yet.
Out the speaker on the roof, an officer ordered, “Driver of the Mitsubishi Montero, reduce your speed and pull to the side of the road.”
I ignored him.
When Grant turned into Liberty Street the traffic eased enough for me to drive parallel to the Crown Vic. Leaning across Nadine’s lap, I shouted out the window, “Move closer so you can climb in the back.”
Nadine’s face snapped toward me. “Have you lost your ever-lovin’ mind?”
Without a word, I swatted at her to keep quiet.
“If I let go of the wheel,” he said, “I’ll kill someone.”
“If you don’t, you’re a dead man. Please…you can do it. I know you can.”
“I can’t risk it, Shawnee. Find another way.”
Heat assaulting every fiber of my being, I punched the interior roof. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
When I refocused on the road, a Mack truck was heading straight at us, and I cut the wheel to the right. My heart pitter-pattered, pitter-patte
red, pitter-pattered. At that moment another idea illuminated, and I raised my index finger, signaling Levaughn to wait. To shake Nadine from her frazzled state, I patted her knee. “Hey, I need you to switch places with me, but under no circumstances can we lose sight of him. I don’t care what the cops say. Do not stop this car. Okay?”
“Oh my God, Shawnee. I don’t think I can. That beer went straight to my head.”
“Christopher’s screwin’ your Aunt Patti.” Where the hell did that come from? Under normal circumstances I would’ve never told her that way. See? I’d lost complete control, my mind cluttered with images of Levaughn’s fatal crash.
“He’s…what?” Face bloomed with frustration, she shook a fist in the air. “That lyin’ SOB.” As though she morphed into someone else entirely, she set one hand on the steering wheel. “Do what you gotta do. I got this.”
Eyebrows raised, my face snapped toward her. “Well look at you, all ruffled and empowered. Congrats. You’re no longer his doormat.”
She winked.
“You go, girlfriend. Not sure what’s happening here, but I like the new you.” I snapped her a high-five. Sadly, our hands never connected. She missed, not me. Too bad too. For a moment there, I was prouder than a young boy with his first woody. “Ready? On three. One…two…three.” When I rose Nadine slid underneath me, into the driver’s seat, and I dove in the backseat.
MacBook on my lap, I hacked into the cellular network of the Crown Vic. Child’s play. They really should make this harder to do.
From the front seat, Nadine made every imaginable sound effect to announce her distress over Levaughn’s shaky ability to avoid killing himself. “Oh, wow. He came way too close to hittin’ that car. Sweet Jesus!” White-knuckling the steering wheel, she swerved to miss an oncoming bus. “There’s a traffic light up ahead. What if he doesn’t make it before it turns red?” Her high-pitched scream sliced through the chaotic sirens and flashing lights.
“All right, all right. Shhh…” I patted her shoulder, but it didn’t seem to relax her any. “This area looks familiar. After we go under this bridge, there should be a stretch of concrete on your right. I need you to drive on the sidewalk. You’ve got about two-hundred feet before you’ll hit grass and trees. That should give me enough time to crack this hack.”