“So what’s this about? Why attack Mack?” Prince asked. His mouth was dry.
“All I can figure out, is he didn’t want our guy to see what he was up to. This incident answers the question about whether the guy in jail was working alone. The only thing I can surmise is the attacker wanted to follow Cindy. Without being seen.” His voice was low, and concerned. “I’m glad she’s with you.”
Prince told him about the box, and the plan to get it to the police.
“Good idea,” he added. “And you better watch for any signs of being followed.”
The thought gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ahead of him, Cindy zipped through traffic on her Harley, alone, unprotected, and totally unaware of any danger. And behind him?
Carefully, Prince watched in the rear view mirror. He changed lanes. He watched the cars behind him for any sign of tailing. His fingers gripped the steering wheel. His neck was tense. This was definitely out of his area of expertise.
The road was wide, and had several lanes running in each direction. Traffic was heavy enough to keep him on his toes, but not heavy enough to keep drivers from changing lanes. He wished he had even a clue of who he was looking for. He looked from side mirror to rear view mirror, and watched Cindy up ahead.
The distance to the police station wasn’t long. If someone followed them, if someone was searching for the box, it would soon be too late. He couldn’t wait to turn it over to the police, whatever it contained.
But her suspicion made sense. The trouble for Cindy reoccurred when the box arrived. And since the box had been inadvertently stored at the repair shop, the searching had been futile. Cindy had refused to open it. But the people who were concerned about its contents didn’t know that. And that meant there was a good chance Cindy was as big a threat to them as the box itself.
The trouble began all of a sudden. As they pulled away from a traffic light, an aged tan Volvo darted out of the lane behind him, slicing in front of him, cutting him off from Cindy on her cycle. In horror, he watched the distance between them grow. Was it just a crazed and impatient driver, or was Cindy in danger?
Better safe than sorry. He picked up his cell phone and punched the number for the police detective.
Detective Clark answered. He had already heard from Paulie.
“Cindy’s on her Harley. I’m in the car behind her. There’s someone following her, I have a bad feeling. We’re on our way to deliver the box.” He glanced at the street signs and gave their location.
“Cars and backup are on their way. Keep him in sight, but be careful. We don’t know what we’re dealing with. He could be armed.”
A whole new level of fear flowed through him, hot like lava. He could feel the sweat dampening his back. He hung up the phone.
His focus was glued to Cindy ahead, the Volvo like a forbidding wall between them. Traffic was heavier now, and changing lanes was impossible.
Did she know she was being followed? How could he let her know? Frustration flashed because she didn’t carry a cell phone. Though the lack probably didn’t matter in this case, as answering a cell phone while riding a speeding motorcycle in traffic was surely a bad idea. True even without someone with bad intentions tailing you down the highway.
Prince ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. The other hand gripped the steering wheel with intensity. He had to let her know. He had to get her attention.
He pulled as far to the left as he dared, so at least one of his headlights would be visible to her around the Volvo. He flashed his bright lights. Would she see him?
A block later, he started honking his horn. Aside from a few angry stares from the cars around him, there was no sign he had gotten her attention. Ahead, a traffic light turned yellow.
The Harley roared through the intersection. The Volvo followed. Despite the long length of the yellow lights, Prince knew he was in trouble. The light was sure to turn red. He swallowed hard, and said a short prayer as he entered the intersection behind them.
No way was he going to let her out of his sight. He put the pedal to the metal, and floored it. The engine responded with a roar. The Aston shot forward ferociously, launching through the intersection. He heard screeching, and honking, and shouting behind him. He hunched his shoulders, waiting for the sound of crunching metal or shattering glass. Nothing. For that he was grateful.
The undeniable pressure of his heart beat like a jackhammer in his chest, though. Did James Bond deal with this? A long time would pass before he would dream the life of a secret agent was a good one. Or before he cared about his car.
Right now his one and only goal was keeping Cindy in his sight, and praying for her safety.
Since he had been the last car through the intersection, no one was behind him. Somehow, he needed to get her attention, to make her know something was up. So far, the Volvo had done nothing else suspicious, but he was driving right on her tail. Where were the cops?
Prince started swerving the Aston from lane to lane, hazard lights flashing, still leaning on the horn. That got her attention. With even a quick glance into her rear mirrors, she couldn’t help but see his bizarre driving. Her hand went up, to signal she had seen him.
For a split second, he was relieved. Forewarned was forearmed, right?
But the Volvo driver started lowering his window. He had seen she was aware of him. And now he had something in his left hand. Was it a gun?
Prince’s mouth went dry, and his heart hammered even harder, which he had not believed possible. Trusting his instincts was his only choice. And without a doubt, his instincts told him Cindy was in mortal danger. His adrenaline flowed.
Where were the cops?
As they approached the next intersection, he pried his stiff hands off the Aston steering wheel, and patted the dashboard. “Goodbye old buddy,” he said with grim determination.
As the traffic slowed, just a little, Prince lifted his foot to slam on the accelerator. He aimed to ram the Volvo in the rear. He saw Cindy’s head tilt to keep the cars behind her in view. He had to trust Cindy’s awareness and hope she’d be alert enough to maneuver her cycle out of the way. Though he may not destroy the Volvo, he could sure get the driver’s attention, throw him off enough to slow him down and wreck his aim.
But as his foot pressed down to release the car’s power, the situation changed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The minute she straddled the beloved Harley, Cindy radiated a sense of renewal, feeling the rush of air across her face, the vibrations of the engine. The cycle responded like an old friend as she entered the stream of traffic. No matter the air was tinged with bus exhaust, no matter the traffic was heavier than ideal. She had her Harley back.
She smiled as she reached over and adjusted the side mirror to keep a good view of the cars behind her. Especially one car. The little Aston gleamed in the sunlight. Man, did he have a shine on that car!
For some reason, there was a kind of assurance, having him behind her. Not that she needed it. Not that she needed anything. In moments, the box would be out of her hands.
She had a moment of the kind of joy that jumps out of the shadows sometimes, making a person clearly realize all the goodness in life. Life was so good. The kids were good. Things at Connie’s clinic were good. Selling her first book was good. Getting money for that book was good. She patted the cycle and grinned into the rushing air. Next on the list would be a cell phone.
She stopped at a red light, cars all around her on the busy road. Behind her, she could see Prince talking on the cell phone. His face looked tight.
“Hmm,” she thought. “Maybe a cell phone is more trouble than it’s worth.”
The light changed.
Cindy was anxious to get the unwanted box from Jimmy to the detectives at the station. Having it out of her hands was some kind of closure. Whatever the box contained, it would be someone else’s problem.
Suddenly, her senses came alive like a jolt. A car had come from behind Prin
ce, zipping into the next lane and then back again, almost cutting him off as he forced his car into line behind her.
She watched the driver in the side mirror, slouched low in the seat, and wearing a baseball hat pulled low over his face. He drove an old beat up Volvo, and he was staying much too close on the tail of her Harley. Had she seen that car when she left the house?
Her nerves tingled. Was he just a foolhardy and aggressive driver? Or was there more to it? Her instincts said danger. She tensed her hands on the handle bars, watching both the road in front of her, and the suspicious car behind her. She thought of Paulie’s concerns.
Prince was keeping his car close. Was she overreacting?
Now I wish I had that cell phone.
Behind her, Prince moved his car toward the curb. He was flashing his lights. Her body reacted.
Ahead, the light had turned yellow. She leaned low on the cycle. Only blocks from the police station, she gunned the engine and soared through, hoping to lose the Volvo.
But he followed, even though the light had turned red.
The Volvo driver meant business. But so did Prince. She swallowed hard, as she heard the squeals and honking behind her. The Aston was right behind the Volvo, and now Prince swerved and honked. He was making sure she knew she was in danger, but she already had no doubt. She had seen enough movies to recognize the thing the driver held in his hand might well be a gun.
Cindy’s body tingled with a rush of adrenaline. What should she do? Had Prince called for help? In this traffic, even alerted police wouldn’t get to the scene soon enough. She was a sitting duck. No matter why any more—the whole thing didn’t make sense. She had to get away from the gun.
Behind her, she could sense Prince’s fear and concern. She raised a quick hand to show him she saw his warning. Even through the tension, she was aware of a flash of gratitude and wonder. She wasn’t alone. Even though Prince would get himself clobbered in traffic if he kept driving like that. And then there was the gun.
Cindy had a rush of fear. But she knew Prince was smart. And he had a cell phone. In a flash, she decided two things.
The first thought was that Prince Highfield was an amazing, strong, and trustworthy man. The second was neither of them had a chance at escaping unharmed unless they got out of this traffic, and away from the Volvo.
As the Harley approached the next intersection, she saw the light was green. She didn’t slow down. Instead, she jerked the Harley to the right, around the corner, praying hard no pedestrians had chosen to step off the curb. She also prayed the bus parked at the light stayed still a moment longer. Cindy had left making the turn to the last possible minute. She leaned hard, feeling the Harley wheels skid beneath her. She gritted her teeth and adjusted her weight, working with gravity.
Cindy spun around the corner, off the boulevard, and onto a side street.
****
Prince watched Cindy approach the intersection. The cycle accelerated with a burst of speed. She veered sharply to the right, and turned the corner, leaning hard. She nearly went down. His heart was in his throat.
The Volvo squealed around the corner, spitting gravel, not able to make as tight a turn. The pursuer made it, but not before his front bumper grazed the corner of a bus approaching the intersection. There was the screech of metal, and a flash of sparks. But the Volvo kept going, closing in again on the cycle.
With a better turning radius, and an extra second to respond, Prince made the turn with no additional fireworks. Ahead he was grateful to see the Volvo driver had both hands on the wheel now. Where was the gun? Had Cindy seen the weapon?
They headed down the side street, filled with traffic and busy pedestrians. Ahead, trees were in sight. The road ran along the side of Pennypack Park, a large expanse of natural greenery keeping several square miles of northeast Philadelphia green.
How would the cops find them now? His mind cleared. He hit the redial button, and yelled the new directions into the phone. “Help, quick!” he barked, “I think this guy’s got a gun.”
Prince didn’t have time to hang up. He heard the phone hit the floor as he clutched the steering wheel with both hands, alert and ready for action.
Again, Cindy veered off the road, right at the pedestrian entrance to the park. He heard the cycle downshift as she made the turn, hopping the curb and roaring toward the paved path that led into the park. Made for walkers and bike riders, the path was part of an intricate web of pathways winding for miles in and around the thickly wooded park.
“Can you hear me?” Prince shouted into the air, not even sure the phone was still connected to the police. “She took off into Pennypack Park on the bike path, and the maniac in the Volvo is following her!”
“And this maniac is not giving up either,” he said to himself, as the Aston jumped the curb, making a crunching sound as his low car bounced and bottomed out for an instant.
The path was barely wide enough for a vehicle. Ahead, the Volvo spewed stones and dirt as its wheels overshot the pavement on either side.
The Aston stayed right behind him, cruising through multiple dips and tight curves on the winding path. The Volvo driver had both his hands on the wheel to keep control. Cindy on the Harley pulled ahead.
Had this been her plan, to get out of traffic and give the small cycle an advantage? Prince hoped it worked. The atmosphere was quiet and desolate in the woods, and his stomach rolled. Had she wanted to avoid injuries to any unsuspecting bystanders on the busy city streets? He was grateful no one was using the walkway and that the Volvo driver needed two hands to maneuver his car, and had momentarily dropped the gun. That wouldn’t keep him, however, from ramming her on the Harley if he could catch her.
He had no idea where the pathway would come out. They went around corners, up small inclines where the path way was a bridge over a rock filled creek. In the distance, he heard the whine of police sirens. Echoing through the woods, they sounded as if they were a lifetime away. Deep here in the park, they might as well be. Fear sat like a rock in his stomach.
Ahead, the road dipped, and then a straight stretch came into view. He saw Cindy up ahead, leaning low now over the handlebars, picking up as much speed as she dared. The Volvo picked up speed too. Another curve came into sight, cutting Cindy off from view. Prince hit the accelerator even harder. He couldn’t lose her. Man, he couldn’t lose her.
All of a sudden, in his frantic desperation, his whole life made sense. In a flash, he saw what was important in life, and what he saw wasn’t about the Highfield heritage. It was about love. He could lose everything else in his life, and the loss wouldn’t matter.
But he couldn’t lose Cindy. He took a deep breath, and floored the Aston.
Around the corner, far up ahead, the path went under an overpass, large cement pillars on either side. Overhead, on the street above, he could see movement, the signs of civilization, the tops of parked cars. Down here in the park was like a different world, quiet and desolate.
Where was Cindy? The Harley was out of sight. He panicked now, his heart beating triple time. He stayed right on the tail of the Volvo.
The Aston approached the underpass, which looked like a short, dark tunnel, the road above cutting off the sunlight. Prince squinted into the darkness.
And saw a burst of movement.
It all happened in a flash.
The Volvo skidded, spewing stones, as four armed police officers stepped from behind each of the pillars beneath the overpass, onto the bike path. Their weapons were drawn, making a daring and formidable wall of force. From the roadside above, a row of officers appeared along the guardrail, standing tall, aiming rifles down at the Volvo. There was no doubt that they meant business.
A loud squeal sounded, as the Volvo driver jammed on the brakes. He lost control, and the right wheels veered hard as he left the pavement. The swerving car skidded up against the cement of a pillar. Next came an ugly dragging sound, as the metal of the car scraped viciously against the concrete. The Volvo came
to a stop in a dusty cloud.
Like slow motion, Prince saw the scene in front of him, hitting the brakes with all his might. Obeying his command, the Aston slowed. But not quite fast enough. Dust swirled around him. With a thud and a crunch, he connected with the rear bumper of the stalled Volvo.
Like a moment frozen in time, no one moved. No sound was heard.
And then the world erupted to life again. Shouts and megaphones and sirens came from everywhere. The chase was over.
As soon as he got his breath, Prince jumped out of the car to reach Cindy, who stood safely now beside her parked Harley, on the other side of the underpass. She stood grinning, surrounded by Philadelphia’s finest. He could feel relief running through his veins. With each step, his wobbly legs regained their strength.
The scraggly haired driver was handcuffed and jostled up a dirt path climbing the hill to the overpass. A police car waited above them, lights flashing.
As he approached, Cindy turned toward him, pulling away from the crowd of officers. She flung herself into his arms. Nothing on earth had ever felt so good. He wrapped himself around her, kissing first the top of her head, then tilting her face toward his, fingers grazing her lips as he looked at her face. “I love you, Cindy Castle. With all my heart. Whatever happens in this life, you have to know I’ll be there for you. We’ll face it together.”
And then he kissed her.
Safe in his arms, she nestled close, and he heard her breathless reply in his ear. “I know. I believe you. And I love you right back.”
He could feel her heart beat, pressed close to her, just as he could feel his own racing pulse. He wanted to freeze the moment forever.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Ahem.” The detective’s gruff voice broke into their moment. “We’re all done here. You think you two can put off that lovey stuff and get down to the station so we can write this all up, and take care of that precious box you’ve been toting around?”
Cindy and Prince both blushed, and pulled themselves back to reality.
Cindy's Prince Page 20