by David Archer
“Because somebody just tried to blow my head off,” Chance said. “I thought you might like to know.”
“Geez, what? What happened? Where are you?”
“Starbucks on Eastern Avenue, just north of Tropicana. I pulled over and called 911, so now I have to wait for the cops to get here.”
“You wait for me, too,” Pete said. “We’re on the way.”
“I’ll be here,” Chance said. “Sucker blew a hole in my windshield.”
“Yeah? Just be thankful it wasn’t your face. Be there in ten.”
The police showed up a moment later, and Chance told the two officers what happened. He showed them his Dixon Investigations ID card and his concealed weapons permit, then gave them the best description he could manage of the car and the driver that shot at him.
“The guy looked to be in his mid thirties, maybe,” he said. “Hair was dark, either black or dark brown. I didn’t really notice what he was wearing, but the gun looked like a three fifty seven revolver. As far as I know, he only got off one shot.”
One of the officers used his phone to take a picture of the hole in the truck’s windshield while the other took notes. They were still having him repeat the same thing over and over when Pete and Josie showed up.
Chance had left him with a nice chunk of change after the Cardwell case, and Pete had invested a few thousand in a used Ford Crown Victoria. It was an old police cruiser, and Pete liked it because it had plenty of power. He had spent a little extra money making sure it was in good condition, and then had it painted white. White cars, he insisted, were the hardest for anyone to describe and were more likely to be overlooked.
Josie sat in the car while Pete stood by and listened to the police officers. Both of them knew him and shook his hand, congratulating him on pulling his life back together. Pete let it go in one ear and out the other, and shook his head as they finally drove away.
“So what did they say?” he asked Chance.
“They said they’ll look into it, but there’s not much chance they’re ever going to find the person who did it. I was pretty sure that’s how it would be, but I figured I had to make a police report.”
“Damn right,” Pete said. “Anytime shots are fired, you need to make a report if you can. You sure it wasn’t Johnson who took a shot at you?”
“It wasn’t him. This guy was older, and had dark hair. Thin face, but that’s about all I could tell. I saw in my mirror that he had a gun, so I ducked just before he pulled the trigger.”
“Good thing you did,” Pete said. “I kinda like having you around. You need a ride home?”
“No, the truck is drivable. I think it might be time to buy myself another car, though.” He grinned. “I thought about Johnny Fargo today for the first time in weeks. Think he might still be open?”
“He’ll be open if I call him,” Pete said. “I’ll give him a ring and meet you there, if you want to head on down.”
“Yeah, let’s do that. I can leave the truck with him to get the windshield fixed. I'm not really looking forward to having to explain it to Gabriella, you know?”
He climbed back into the truck and followed Pete out of the parking lot, then across town to Johnny Fargo’s used car dealership. Johnny was waiting in front of his office building when they pulled in, and smiled broadly when he saw Chance.
“There’s my buddy,” he said. “Pete told me what happened, and that you want some new wheels. Got anything specific in mind?”
“Yeah,” Chance said. “Something with some power, but not terribly noticeable. I don’t suppose you’ve got one of those special Chargers, do you?”
Johnny’s eyebrows went upward. “Always, my man,” he said. “Those are my stock in trade. Come on in the back of the shop, you know where I keep them.”
Pete was helping Josie into her wheelchair and he motioned for Chance to go on. Chance followed the car dealer into the shop building and through the repair area to where the special cars were kept.
“Take your pick,” Johnny said.
There were three Dodge Chargers sitting there, all of them about five years old. Chance knew that Johnny built them for security officers and others who wanted some power, and he and Pete had actually used one of them during the Cardwell case some weeks earlier. Like Pete’s Crown Victoria, they had once been police cars, which was how Johnny managed to get them cheap, but each had been completely rebuilt by the mechanics who worked for him.
Other than color, all three cars were identical. Chance raised the hood on each of them to confirm that they each had the 528 Hemi engine Johnny was famous for, then stood back and looked at all three of them again.
“The blue one,” he said after a moment. “Is it ready to go?”
“Is it ready? That’s the best of the lot. 528 crate Hemi cranking six hundred and ten horses, lightweight Kevlar lining under all of the body panels and the glass is all Carbonite. It’s as bulletproof a car as you’ll ever find anywhere. Everything looks nice and stock, but that car could hold its own on a stock car track. It’s sixty five grand, can you handle that?”
Chance nodded. “Not a problem,” he said. “I imagine that engine is probably a third of that, am I right?”
“Pretty close, pretty close. I get a deal on them from Mopar Performance, because I buy so many of them. You’re still looking at nearly twenty grand under the hood alone.” He went to a cabinet on the wall that had a digital combination lock, punched in a series of numbers and then withdrew a set of keys. He tossed them to Chance. “Bring it around front and we’ll write up the deal.”
He pushed a button to open the overhead door, and Chance climbed into the car and started it up. It was surprisingly quiet, another trademark of Johnny’s special cars. The exhaust system was designed to keep the noise down while still letting the engine do what it was supposed to do. He drove the car out and around the building, then pulled up next to where Pete and Josie were waiting.
“Man, that is sweet,” Pete said. “Is that like the one we used before?”
Chance grinned. “Even better,” he said. “I could’ve caught that Chevy if I’d been driving this.”
All three of them went inside the office while Chance filled out the paperwork and Johnny set up the temporary license plate. That would give Chance thirty days to register the car, but he had to use his phone to add it to his insurance before he could even drive it away from the lot. That took only a few minutes, and then he wrote out the check.
“About my truck,” he said when they were finished. “Can you arrange to have a new windshield put in for me?”
Johnny grinned. “I will not only have it put in, I’ll even pay for it. A little bonus, since you came back to buy a car like you said you would.”
Chance handed him the keys to the truck, then turned to Pete and Josie. “You guys want to come on over to the house for dinner?” he asked. “Gabriella has been asking when I was going to bring you over so she could meet you. Tonight seems like as good a time as any.”
Josie looked at him. “Have you bothered to check with your wife about that?” she asked. “She might not be happy to have company show up unannounced.”
“Only take a minute to find out,” Chance said. He took out his phone, hit a button, and put it to his ear.
“Hey, baby,” Gabriella said. “Are you going to be home soon?”
“Yeah, in about twenty-five or thirty minutes,” he said. “How would you feel about Pete and Josie joining us for dinner tonight?”
“Tonight? Well, I was just putting the finishing touches on a roast, so there’s plenty. Sure, bring them along. I’ve been dying to meet them.”
“Okay. We’ll be there in just a bit. Oh, and you might want to come out front when we get there. I just bought a car.”
“You bought a car? Did something happen to the truck?”
“Yeah, the windshield got busted today. I'm putting it in the shop to get fixed, but I need something better for work, anyway. It’s a nice car, I think
you’ll like it.”
Gabriella hesitated, the way Chance knew she always did when she was just a little suspicious. Saying the windshield was broken without explaining why was bound to trigger her radar. “Okay, babe,” she said. “Honk when you get here.”
“Sure will. We should be there pretty soon.” He ended the call and dropped the phone into his pocket, then turned to Pete and Josie. “See? No problem at all.”
Josie made a “Harrumph,” sound, but Pete grinned. “Lighten up, honey,” he said. “I have the feeling we might be going along as moral support.”
Chance grinned. “Yeah, something like that,” he said. He waited for Pete to help Josie get back into the car, then folded up her wheelchair and stuck it in Pete’s trunk. With that finished, he climbed into the Charger and started it up, then led the way back to his place in Henderson.
After Pete had sobered up, Josie had convinced him to move into her apartment in northeast Vegas. Since it was already set up for someone in a wheelchair, it made sense to him, but then he had begun to discover just what kind of characters lived in the area. As they followed Chance into Henderson, he turned and looked at her.
“You know,” he said, “we could probably find a house down here, something we could afford to rent.”
“Why?” she asked. “What’s wrong with my place?”
“Oh, nothing, as long as you don’t mind dodging the occasional drug deal as you make your way down the hall. Don’t you think we could stand to get out of that neighborhood?”
She grinned at him and shrugged. “You’re afraid I'm going to get hurt or something?”
“Yeah, well, the thought might’ve crossed my mind. Besides, we’re getting married in just over a month. Maybe we should start off with a nicer place, don’t you think?”
Josie’s grin turned into a smile. “That’s sweet, Pete,” she said. “I don’t know about Henderson, though. Rents are pretty high down here.”
“I think we can swing it,” he replied. “Maybe tomorrow, let’s take a look and see what’s available. Okay?”
Still grinning, Josie rolled her eyes at him. “If you say so. I guess it would be nice to have a house, one of our own.” She looked at him again. “Someplace where we might hear the pitter patter of little feet, someday?”Pete’s eyes suddenly went wide, and he let the matter drop and concentrated on following Chance. When the Charger pulled into a driveway, Pete maneuvered his Ford so that it was parked alongside the curb. He was out quickly and setting up the wheelchair while Chance hit the horn button.
The front door opened and the family came flooding out. Tom and Andy were in the lead, with Gabriella and Grandma right behind them.
“Wow,” Andy said, but Tom just smiled and nodded.
“It’s cool, Chance,” he said. “Is it fast?”
“Like a rocket,” Chance said with a grin. “I’ll take you all for a ride in it later.”
Gabriella was looking the car over carefully and slid behind the wheel for a moment. “This is beautiful,” she said. “And you bought this for work?”
“Yeah,” Chance said nonchalantly. “I think my old truck is just a little bit too recognizable. It’s kinda hard to follow somebody when you have a vehicle they can’t help but notice. This car is nice, but there are thousands of them running around. I won’t stand out like a sore thumb, you know?”
“It’s gorgeous, I will say that.” She glanced into the back seat. “And plenty of room for the kids.”
Chance grinned. “Including a car seat for the baby,” he said. “I knew you’d like it.”
“I do, I really do,” Gabriella said, and then she looked him in the eyes. “Now, what happened to the truck?”
The grin faded from Chance’s face. “We can talk about that inside,” he said. “Right now, we’ve got company.”
He introduced Pete and Josie to his family and was delighted when even the boys seemed to ignore the fact that Josie was in a wheelchair. The only time it seemed to matter was when they were going into the house, because there were three steps leading up to the front porch. Pete simply turned the chair around and pulled it up one step at a time, while Josie pretended to be terrified. It made the boys laugh, but they each grabbed one side of the chair and tried to help.
As soon as they got inside, Gabriella grabbed Chance by the hand and dragged him into the kitchen.
“Chance Reddick,” she said, “I know how much you love your truck. How in the world did the windshield get broken? And don’t give me some song and dance, I know when you lie.”
Chance let out a sigh. “Okay,” he said, “but don’t overreact, okay? I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but somebody decided to take a shot at me today. They missed, I'm fine, but the bullet put a big hole in my windshield. Pete suggested a while back that maybe I needed to drive something that wasn’t quite so easy to spot, and he knows this guy who builds really good cars. I met him when I was working with Pete last time, and I just decided to go ahead and get one.”
She stared at him for a moment, then suddenly flung her arms around him and pulled him close. “Just be careful,” he said. “That’s all I ask, you just be careful.”
Chapter 9
Dinner went very well, and Pete and Josie found themselves quickly adopted by the entire family. Pete made Chance blush by insisting that he was the one who helped Pete put down the bottle, and Josie regaled them with the story of how Pete had pulled her out of the burning car that almost ended her life.
“Is that how you ended up in the wheelchair?” Andy asked, with the innocent curiosity of a child.
“Yep,” she said, and then she grinned. “Of course, it beats the dickens out of what could’ve happened, right?”
“Yeah,” Andy said. “It sure does.”
“So,” Grandma asked, “is there any hope for you to walk again? Forgive me, but I'm just curious.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Josie said. “I'm afraid there really isn’t, because of the damage to my spine. That was from the wreck, not the fire. I have feeling in my legs, but I don’t have very much control over them. I can walk a little bit, but it isn’t easy and it’s very painful.” She looked at Pete. “But I'm happy,” she said with a smile.
When dinner was over, they moved into the living room and watched a movie together, but then Pete insisted it was time for him and Josie to get home. Gabriella offered them the use of the guest room for the night, but Pete declined politely.
“We were talking on the way over here, though,” he said as they were preparing to leave. “I think we might look for a place somewhere in Henderson, get out of the area we live in now. Too many drug dealers and gang bangers around for my comfort.”
“That would be nice,” Gabriella said. “Maybe you can find something close by. Josie and I could hang out together.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Pete said. The look on his face suggested that the neighborhood might be a bit out of their range, however.
Chance and Gabriella walked out to Pete’s car with them, and Gabriella gave them both a hug before they drove away. When they were gone, she turned to Chance.
“Okay, we’re alone for just a minute,” she said. “Chance, is this really what you want to do? Be a private eye, I mean? I know you—you like danger, and—I know there are other things, but I worry that the danger might be too much, someday.”
Chance put an arm around her and pulled her close, and looked up at the stars overhead. “Most of the time, working with Pete is pretty dull. We have a couple of cases right now that seem to be a little bit confusing and might even be connected, but I really think the guy today was just trying to scare me off of something more than anything else. I don’t think I'm really in that much danger, and I plan to be pretty careful.” He tilted her face up and kissed her. “Don’t worry, babe,” he said. “I'm pretty good at taking care of myself.”
“I know that,” she said. “I remember when you took care of me and my kids, when you saved us from the cartel. I just worr
y. Comes with being a wife, I think.”
She turned without another word and held his hand as she led him back into the house.
The next morning, Chance pulled up at the office before Pete and Josie arrived. He had a key, so he opened the door and went inside, then sat in Pete’s chair. The thought occurred to him that the office was big enough for another desk, and he decided to mention it to Pete when he arrived.
He picked up the remote and turned on the TV on the wall, scanning the news stories. He was watching a story about some new city ordinance that was causing an uproar when the door opened, and he turned toward it expecting to see Pete and Josie.
Instead, he saw FBI Agents Roberts and McCord. Both of them spotted him as their eyes adjusted to the dim light, and Agent Roberts led the way, storming across the floor toward him.
“I put a flag on your name,” she said. “Seems somebody decided to try to shoot you last night?”
“Well, hello, Agent Roberts,” Chance said. “How nice to see you again.”
“Cut the crap, Reddick,” she said. “What are you mixed up in this time?”
“Heck if I know,” Chance said. “Maybe I cut the guy off, just a case of road rage. As you can see, he missed.”
“I noticed that I don’t see your old truck sitting outside. Get yourself a new car, did you? That’s one of Fargo’s cars, isn’t it?”
Chance’s eyebrows rose a bit. “You know Johnny Fargo?”
McCord snickered. “Every cop and fed and rent a cop within five hundred miles knows Johnny Fargo,” he said. “Even the Bureau has bought a few of his cars, for undercover work.”
Chance grinned at him. “I can understand that,” he said. “Plenty of power and tons of luxury. It’s a sweet ride.” He turned back to Roberts. “Listen, I appreciate that you were worried about me, but…”
“I don’t give a shit about you,” she said, “except to put your ass behind bars, where you belong. I just want you to know that I'm watching, so if you start dropping bodies, I will be right behind you, someplace.”
“Agent Roberts,” Chance said, rising to his feet, “I have a permit to carry a concealed weapon, and I have the right to defend myself. If somebody tries to take a shot at me, I have every right to return fire, don’t I? I think you need to consider getting some counseling, I think your obsession with me is probably going to start interfering with how you do your job.”