Overall, she couldn’t really complain. The cast on the right leg had been the last one to go and that had only been a few weeks ago. She was pleased that she could walk at all and didn’t require the use of a wheelchair. The cane was a small price to pay for her independence.
After she dressed, Ruth packed a bag and headed downstairs as quickly as possible. She was excited and felt like a child on the first day of summer vacation. When she stepped into the foyer she discovered that someone had laid out a breakfast of coffee and croissant on the table by the front door. The coffee and croissant were steaming hot, showing that someone had been paying attention and possibly heard her alarm go off.
It was probably Henry. He lived in the house along with a few other full-time employees. Although Ruth liked to think that she treated all of her staff like family, Henry had been with her for so long that he was the closest thing to it.
She slung the strap of the bag over her shoulder and grabbed the mug and hot bread before heading out the door. The Jaguar XJ6 idled powerfully in front of the house. The cockpit had been set to a comfortable temperature and Ruth roared away from the house with the beige leather seat cradling her body. She felt like she could conquer the world.
Traffic was light in the early hours, the rush of the morning commute having yet to hit fully. She moved swiftly down the almost deserted streets and swung the powerful car onto the Pacific Coast Highway before she pressed the accelerator toward the floor. Ruth shot forward on the nearly deserted road headed for New Rollins, a small coastal community that couldn’t really be called a town. It was a two-hour trip before she would arrive and take the ferry over to Jessup Bay.
Ruth enjoyed driving but was still feeling weakened from her extended hospital stay. An hour and a half into the trip she found herself settling into the vague fugue state induced during long trips, absently rubbing her right knee as it began to throb. With only a half hour left to her destination, she didn’t want to pull off the road for a cup of coffee. Ruth decided she could easily make the remaining thirty minutes so continued on, staring down the road in front of her.
Traffic had been almost nonexistent during the trip and she didn’t really pay any attention to the few other vehicles. She didn’t even notice the other car until a sudden movement in her rearview mirror caught her attention. It was the only other vehicle on this stretch of roadway. It was a dark blue sedan, but it was so close that Ruth couldn’t tell what the make was in her mirror. Then, suddenly, it was even closer.
The sedan accelerated quickly and closed the remaining distance. Ruth wondered if the other driver was falling asleep at the wheel. Her eyes were riveted on the mirror, dancing away briefly to check that she was in the proper lane. The car moved even closer and Ruth hit her horn in an attempt to jolt the driver into awareness.
She quickly decided that the driver was not asleep when the front bumper of the following vehicle bashed into her rear end. He was trying to force her off the road.
Adrenaline surged throughout her body with lightning speed. The screech of tortured metal resonated through her grinding teeth. Ruth’s eyes went wide with fright even as she lost the feeling in her fingers from the excitement of fear. A quick glance down assured her that she was indeed holding tightly to the wheel. The Jaguar was built for performance. It held ferociously to the tarmac beneath as the attacker backed off slightly only to careen against her again.
Ruth stared into her rearview mirror trying to identify the madman, but couldn’t because the glare from the rising sun bounced off the windshield. She glanced back down at the road in front of her only to discover that she was heading for the guardrail on the narrow, winding road. She attempted to right her vehicle, but yanked too hard on the wheel and overcorrected.
When the encounter began, Ruth had pressed down on the accelerator, increasing her speed in an instinctual effort to escape the assailant. At that speed, the maneuver caused the car to slide into a slight skid. Her heart pounded as Ruth yanked on the wheel again and straightened the car out, but she had unwittingly given her attacker the chance to move up beside her.
The other vehicle had moved between her car and the mountainside, but it hadn’t moved up far enough for her to identify the driver. It was entirely possible that the attacker was a complete stranger, so Ruth wondered why she would even think she could identify them to begin with. Then again, that didn’t make any sense. She hadn’t done anything to instigate such an extreme case of road rage.
She thought all of this must be related to Karl’s death. Whomever this was waited until Ruth was alone to try to kill her. Why? She was no threat to them. Maybe they thought she could identify them, or saw something on the mountainside. That was ridiculous. If Ruth could identify them, she would have reported them to the police before now.
Suddenly, the other driver accelerated and shot up on the passenger side of the Jaguar. He rode along the shoulder tight against Ruth’s side. She glanced over briefly, having to keep an eye on the winding road as well as the sedan, but she felt she’d just been maneuvered into a bad spot. By slipping the vehicle between Ruth and the mountain, the attacker had moved into the perfect position to force her through the guardrail and over the side.
Ruth couldn’t believe it was going to be that easy. There had to be something she could do. She pressed the accelerator all the way to the floor and hung on as the car shot down the road, praying for a miracle.
STATE HIGHWAY PATROLMAN Gary Fowler was sitting in his squad car. He had been a street cop for years and was pretty good at it, so good in fact that he had aced the test for promotion to detective. His wife insisted he take the test, but Gary couldn’t picture himself sitting behind a desk pushing paper on a daily basis. With that in mind, he asked instead for a transfer to the traffic division. The shifts weren’t as intense and helped satisfy his wife’s concern for his well-being when it cut down on his interaction with gang bangers.
After only six months, he was coming to regret the transfer. Gary longed for the streets and a little excitement instead of the boring grind of chasing speeders or arresting drunk drivers. So far, today was no exception.
At a little past nine on a Friday morning he wasn’t expecting a great deal of excitement since most of the commuters would be on the major interstates. He’d pulled into a turnout on the winding Pacific Coast Highway to rest his eyes and call Nora. They were expecting their first child in a few months and the morning sickness was a thing of the past. Still, her hormones were raging and Gary had learned that the more concern he showed, the easier things would be for him when he got off shift.
He smiled a little in anticipation and had just flipped open his cell phone when two cars raced past him at breakneck speed. For a moment he thought they were drag racing, but then the smaller details he’d been trained to pay attention to flashed through his mind. The Jaguar in English racing green appeared to be under attack.
Gary tossed the cell phone onto the passenger seat, flipped on his siren and tore after the speeding cars. It was obvious what was happening from the dents and scratches in the Jaguar’s rear end and rear passenger door. The panicked expression in the brief glimpse of the driver’s face drove that fact home as he grabbed for the mic and called for backup.
“Twenty-five Paul five,” Gary shouted, giving his call sign to the dispatcher. “Emergency traffic.”
Immediately the dispatcher repeated the call for emergency traffic, letting all other units know not to break into the transmission unless it was an urgent situation. He could be sure that all ears within the range of a radio were listening.
“Twenty-five Paul five, what is your status?”
“Northbound on Pacific Coast Highway twenty miles south of Ventura near Mugu Rock. In pursuit of a 2014 green Jaguar XJ6. License plate Tom Nora Adam six-two-six and a dark blue Lincoln. No plates on the Lincoln.”
The phonetic description of the plate would be run through the computer system and give him the identity of one of the parties involved.
He would also obtain useful information such as wants, warrants or a previous criminal record. Gary didn’t really expect anything useful in this situation since he’d already identified the driver of the Jaguar as the victim of an assault. That being the case, it didn’t come as much of a surprise that the pursuing vehicle didn’t have any plates. The perpetrator had probably stolen the car expressly for this purpose.
Incredibly, the attacker didn’t seem to care that a highway patrol car was pursing with lights and sirens wailing. The dark sedan swerved and made contact with the Jaguar’s front passenger door, pushing steadily as it attempted to force the car over the side.
“The driver of the Lincoln is trying to force the other driver off the road and through the guardrail. I need backup, code three. Have some units set up a roadblock.” He calculated velocity and a reasonable amount of time, before he made a quick decision, “Make it seven miles from our current location and keep all traffic off this road.”
“Ten-four, twenty-five Paul five. Standby.”
For once, Gary was thankful things were so quiet. He knew the situation would get ugly for the driver of the Jaguar if he didn’t do something soon. He considered giving her instructions over the P.A. system, but discarded that idea immediately since his intent would be communicated to the attacker as well.
“Damn.” He struck the steering wheel in frustration.
Just then, the driver of the Jaguar made the decision for him and he took advantage of the opportunity.
RELIEF FLOODED THROUGH Ruth when the Highway Patrol car swerved onto the road behind them with his sirens screaming. The moment passed quickly when she realized that the killer wasn’t just going to pull over to whip out his driver’s license and proof of insurance. To prove it, he rammed her again and tried to push her through the guardrail.
With the cop behind them, Ruth knew that the killer had just run out of time. The policeman would have radioed ahead and others would be coming. That meant that whoever this thundering loon was, it was now or never. Ruth’s mind raced with desperation. Her life was in her own hands and she had to do something to give the patrolman a chance to rescue her.
“Think, think,” she screamed at herself.
She had been trying to race away from this maniac. Maybe it was time to try something radically different. Thought led to immediate action. Ruth lifted her foot off the accelerator and slammed it down on the brakes. The seatbelt bit into her chest and shoulder as her body kept traveling forward. Ruth barely noticed, concentrating instead on holding tightly to the wheel as it vibrated under her hands.
The driver of the sedan reacted too slowly. He was just beginning to brake as the patrol car shot ahead of her. The officer bravely placed his own car between Ruth and her assailant. Ruth expected the unknown assailant to speed away now that the officer had used his vehicle as a buffer, but apparently things wouldn’t be that easy. Now the driver targeted the patrol car. Tires squealed and skid marks left an abbreviated black trail on the tarmac. The Lincoln struck the front of the patrol car, the driver intent on pushing it off the edge of the road and into the rocky Pacific shore below. Ruth didn’t know much about cars, but she expected the police to drive powerful vehicles. It seemed she had guessed correctly when the Crown Victoria countered the weight of the Lincoln. The officer won the game of leverage and pushed the other car toward the mountain. Ruth thought he was trying to pin the attacker against the rock.
It looked like he would succeed, but then the assailant gunned the engine and pushed back. Rubber squealed and smoke rose from the pavement. Slowly, the Lincoln forced the patrol car into the guardrail. Ruth watched helplessly as the police car slammed into the metal safety rail and broke through, teetering on the edge. One of the rear tires left the ground. Ruth held her breath, wanting to get out of her car and rush to the officer’s aid. Self-preservation made her reject that notion. If she left the vehicle, the other driver could squash her where she stood.
Sirens screamed in the distance and Ruth hoped they would arrive in enough time to stop this maniac. She was surprised when the driver of the Lincoln stopped. He backed up slightly, putting a short distance between himself and the officer. The driver hesitated, possibly weighing his options. Ruth couldn’t believe it when he suddenly backed away and spun around, taking advantage of the opportunity to speed away to freedom.
Ruth jumped out of the Jaguar and ran toward the patrol car, relieved when the driver’s door opened and a man stepped clumsily onto the sloped ground. The car had wedged into the guardrail where the angle was less steep and was in little danger of falling over the edge. The way he held his hand to his head combined with his lack of coordination made Ruth think the officer was somewhat dazed. At least he was still alive.
“Are you all right?” Ruth shouted as she ran toward him.
The officer looked up at the sound of her running feet, reaching simultaneously for his sidearm. Ruth held up her hands to show she wasn’t a threat and he stopped.
“I’m all right, ma’am. Are you injured?”
“No,” she replied with a shaky breath. “Thanks to you.”
He didn’t respond, instead reaching for the microphone clipped to his epaulet. For a moment, Ruth thought he was being rude until she heard him speaking.
“Twenty-five Paul five, pursuit terminated one mile from Mugu Rock. I need an APB on the Lincoln. The driver of the Jaguar is uninjured, but I need a tow truck at my twenty. Try to get someone to the Las Posas exit, but they’ll probably be too late. End emergency traffic.”
Once he was finished with the radio, the officer spoke to Ruth. “I’m Gary Fowler, by the way. I did have them set up a roadblock, but I hadn’t expected things to play out so quickly. He’ll probably take Las Posas and miss the roadblock completely.”
Officer Fowler’s radio squawked and Ruth listened in dismay as she deciphered through the police jargon that the Lincoln was found abandoned. She couldn’t imagine where the driver had gone so quickly unless he’d had a partner somewhere nearby. It was entirely possible that he had taken off on foot but without a description, Ruth couldn’t imagine the police finding him.
Two more patrol cars arrived on the scene, but there wasn’t really anything for the officers to do except work traffic control. After another twenty minutes of giving her statement, the encounter began drawing to a close. A tow truck arrived just as Ruth finished telling the officer everything she could remember. She didn’t tell Fowler about her accident a few months ago or that she thought the two incidents were related. In fact, Fowler proposed the same explanation Ruth had first considered when the incident began.
“It was probably someone you pissed off on the road and weren’t even aware of it.”
The idea sounded much more likely when Officer Fowler said it. Ruth thought about the drive up to this point. She had been lost in her own daydreams, not really paying attention. She had heard it said that when a person zoned out while driving, they were really in a semi-hypnotic condition. Ruth couldn’t attest to the veracity of that statement, but found it highly likely that she could have angered the other driver and not even been aware of her transgression.
“If that’s true then someone really has some anger management issues.”
“No argument there. Well, I guess that’s everything, Miss Gallagher. I’ll write the report up today, but it’ll be Monday before it can be processed through administrative channels. You’re welcome to pick up a copy of the report on Tuesday for your insurance company.”
Officer Fowler handed her a business card. “That has the station’s number on it in case you need directions.”
“Thank you, Officer. You’ll never know how relieved I was when I saw you pull on to the road behind us. If you hadn’t been there things might have ended very differently.”
“I didn’t really do that much. You saved yourself. All I did was wreck my car and the captain will probably have my head for that. I’m just glad you’re all right. Now, can I offer you a tow, or call s
omeone for you?”
Ruth smiled at his kindness and shook her head. “No, my car’s a little dented, but drivable. Actually, I was going to take a few days’ vacation, but after this I’ll probably just go home.”
“Didn’t you say that you were going to New Rollins? Well, from what you’ve told me you’re closer to there than you are to home. It’s not far to the exit. I can’t blame you for being unsettled. Something like that would terrify anyone, but I’ll tell you what my wife always tells me. You don’t live your life by hiding in a hole. Trust me, vacations don’t come along often enough. Don’t let some asshole ruin your plans.”
Ruth couldn’t really argue with that. She would be at Ghost Island inside an hour. It would take her another two hours to drive home again and she really did want to see Jordan. Ruth decided she would be safe enough at the cabin.
“I guess you have a point. Well, I’d better get back on the road. Thank you, again.”
“No problem, ma’am. Have a good weekend.”
Ruth checked her mirror before pulling out. She saw the highway patrolman standing near the guardrail. He stood watching the tow truck driver attach a winch to the back of his car. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking, but Ruth knew he had to be just as shaken as she felt. Both of them had almost died at the hands of a maniac and they had no idea why.
She was still a little shaky behind the wheel, but pleased to note that the Jaguar handled with no problems after being batted around like a toy in a cat’s playground. Ruth paid close attention to every other car she noticed and adhered strictly to the rules of the road. She thought she was probably overcompensating, but had no intention of going through anything like that harrowing pursuit ever again. She felt wide-awake and the exit came up quickly for New Rollins. Although she wanted to call Jordan and let her know what had happened, Ruth decided that it was more prudent to keep both hands on the wheel. She would call once she had boarded the ferry. Surely, she could wait another ten minutes.
Illusive Witness Page 4