by Max Austin
Dylan slammed the door on Doc and turned to her, still puffing for breath. She handed him the cop’s Glock and he tucked it into his belt with the other pistol. Then he grasped her shoulders and stared into her eyes.
“Come with us.”
Her heart did a back-flip inside her chest, but she shook her head. “I can’t. If I disappear, they’ll know I was behind it.”
“They might figure it out anyway.”
“I’ll ride it out,” she said. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“We could have a lot of fun together on the road.”
“I’ve got school to finish.”
He took her in his arms and held her close.
“You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” she said. “You’ve given my life a whole new purpose.”
He leaned back to look at her. “I have?”
“We’ve taken annoying my stepfather to new heights. How am I ever going to top this?”
He laughed, then kissed her, deep and long, taking her breath away. As they parted, she heard the slapping of feet in the distance. Someone yelled, “Hey! You there!”
A bald security guard in a khaki uniform was running toward them from the hospital entrance, a radio in one hand and a baton in the other.
“Go,” Dylan said.
“You go.”
“I’m gone.”
He ran around the back end of the Audi. As he ducked into the black car, she got behind the wheel of her Prius and started it up.
Tires screeched as the sleek Audi backed away in an arc, narrowly missing a light pole. A grinding of gears, then it zoomed off.
Katrina aimed the Prius at the security guard, who abruptly turned and sprinted back toward the hospital. When he reached the safety of the sidewalk, she veered away, laughing.
Chapter 73
FBI Agent Hector Aragon knew his partner was ready to explode. The APD patrolmen who crowded into the hospital corridor sensed it, too, and got real quiet.
Hector and Pam were in civilian clothes, jeans and sneakers and windbreakers, but they’d taken time to strap on their guns and badges before heading to the hospital. When they got the call, they’d been at Hector’s place, eating Chinese takeout after a twelve-hour day. The news of Doc Burnett’s escape killed their appetites.
“Who’s in charge here?” Pam said.
A sawed-off detective stepped up to face her. He wore a rumpled brown suit and an uneasy smile. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“I’m Sergeant Stevens.” He had the deep voice of a radio DJ.
After the agents introduced themselves, Stevens said, “There’s really not much of a crime scene here. We’ve got an empty hospital bed if you want to see it. Couple of nurses who will positively identify Dylan James as the man in the hat.”
“Hat?”
“He was dressed up in a hat and a suit and tie, like somebody’s granddad,” Stevens said. “Brandished a long-barreled revolver.”
“I wonder where he got that,” Hector said. “Oscar said he had no weapons.”
“The girl has a gun now as well,” the detective said.
“What girl?”
The edge in Pam’s voice made Stevens flinch.
“There was a young, dark-haired woman with Dylan James. She took the officer’s Glock and kept everyone at bay while Dylan loaded his partner in a wheelchair and rolled him out of here.”
“And what was the officer doing while this was happening?”
“I imagine he was writhing on the floor,” Stevens said. “She’d hit him several times with a stun gun.”
A couple of the uniformed officers snickered, then scurried away when Pam glared at them. Hector needed to get her out of here before she hurt somebody.
“Thanks, Detective,” he said, handing Stevens a business card. “I’m sure you guys have all the bases covered here. Can you e-mail us your reports at the end of your shift?”
“Sure, but there’s really not much more to report. A security guard saw them drive off in two vehicles, but he didn’t get a good look at the cars.”
“Naturally,” Pam said, steam practically coming out of her ears.
Hector gently grasped her elbow and led her away. She said nothing until they were in the humming elevator, their grim reflections staring back at them from the polished steel walls.
She suddenly buried her face in her hands.
“I can’t believe he got away,” she said.
“It’s terrible.”
“Dylan James walks right into the hospital and rolls Doc out and nobody does a damned thing to stop him.”
“He had help,” Hector said. “This mystery girl with the stun gun.”
“What’s this hold that Dylan James has on women? First, we’ve got a whole team of women going after his enemies with their high-heeled shoes. Now we’ve got some other woman helping him incapacitate a police officer and bust Doc out of the secure wing of the hospital.”
The elevator doors opened at the lobby. Pam stalked out, Hector hurrying along behind her. Once they were outside, she stopped on the sidewalk, hands on her hips, sucking in deep breaths of cold night air.
“You okay?”
“I will be,” she said. “I just can’t believe those idiots slipped through our fingers.”
“They were idiots when it came to robbing a bank,” Hector said. “But they’ve shown a certain genius when it comes to eluding the authorities.”
“So far.”
“Their luck won’t hold forever,” he said.
“I hope you’re right.”
“They’ll make a mistake. You’ll see. Time is on our side.”
Pam sighed as they walked toward the no-parking zone where they’d left their federal Ford.
“If we don’t catch those guys, our careers are shot,” she said. “We’ll be stuck in this town forever.”
That didn’t sound so bad to Hector. Albuquerque was his home. And, as long as he and Pam were stationed together here, they could avoid certain inevitable questions about transfers and long-distance romance and marriage and children and the future. But he didn’t voice any of that.
What he said was: “Don’t worry, hon. We’ll get ’em.”
Chapter 74
Doc slowly, painfully leaned forward a few inches so he could reach up an unsteady hand and flip down the visor above the Audi’s windshield. The dawning sun was cresting the horizon, a narrow rim of light as red as a laser beam. Flat Texas prairie stretched away as far as they could see.
Dylan, behind the wheel, slipped black sunglasses onto his face. He’d put the fedora in the backseat earlier, but he still wore the gray suit, the black tie cinched up to his neck.
“Did you change the plates on this car?”
Doc’s voice was croaky. They hadn’t talked much since they’d escaped the hospital. Still swaddled in the sheet from his bed, Doc had drifted in and out of consciousness while Dylan sped them away from Albuquerque.
“Swapped them with the plates from another black Audi, almost identical to this one. How do you like that?”
“Perfect. Where did you find another Audi?”
“I went to a lot in back of the hospital. Where the doctors park.”
“Good thinking,” Doc rasped. “Seems like you’ve done everything right so far. I’m impressed.”
Dylan blushed. “Thanks, man.”
Doc sniffed as a sharp little pain stabbed him in the ribs. They were becoming more frequent as the morphine wore off.
“I’m gonna need some more pain meds pretty soon.”
“I know,” Dylan said. “I got some Jack Daniel’s in the backseat. Would that help?”
“Probably not.”
“We’ve got plenty of cash,” Dylan said, “and Amarillo’s not that far. There’ll be big truck stops there where we can pick up some OxyContin, some Vicodin, something like that.”
“Sure,” Doc said. “That would do the trick. Maybe even a little speed to keep
us awake on the road.”
Dylan looked over at him, but the dark glasses prevented Doc from seeing his eyes. As he turned back to the road, Dylan said, “Maybe so.”
“I know what you’re thinkin’,” Doc said after a minute of uncomfortable silence. “That damned speed is what got us into this mess in the first place.”
Dylan said nothing.
“You’re right about that,” Doc said. “No question. I’ve learned my lesson. That shit’s got to stop.”
Still nothing.
“The speed made me do things. Crazy, impulsive things. Things I’d never do if I were in my right mind.”
“Like tell the cops my name?”
Doc winced.
“I feel bad about that, Dylan. I do. But you know how high I was flying when we were at that bank. Then the air bags hit me in the face and knocked me silly. I didn’t know what I was doing—”
“It’s okay, Doc.”
“I feel bad. I never thought I’d be a fuckin’ rat.”
“Really. Don’t sweat it.”
“And then you come back for me. Rescue me from that hospital. When you could’ve been long gone.”
Doc choked back a sob and said, “That’s true friendship right there.”
The kid kept his eyes on the road, but his cheeks were glowing.
“Come on, Doc. You’d do the same for me.”
A loaded pause in the car. Then Doc said, “Like hell I would!”
They laughed so hard, he hurt his stitches.
BY MAX AUSTIN
Duke City Split
Duke City Hit
Duke City Desperado
About the Author
MAX AUSTIN is the pseudonym of writer Steve Brewer. A former journalist and humor columnist, Brewer teaches part-time in the Honors College at the University of New Mexico. He’s a frequent speaker at mystery conventions and was toastmaster at Left Coast Crime in 2011. Married and the father of two adult sons, Brewer lives in Albuquerque.
stevebrewer.blogspot.com
Facebook.com/SteveBrewerAuthor
@BrewerRules
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