“Mm hmm,” she mumbled, shifting up and staring in the rearview mirror as she ran the red and turned onto Broadway.
Cars honked and swerved as we cut into traffic. I held onto the dash with one hand, the ceiling with my other and braced my body as best I could. When we were rocketing down Broadway, I chanced another glance behind and saw that the two guys and Eddie had taken the red too. To my further despair, I saw a Subaru pul ing up the rear, it’s end dragging under a load and two mountain bikes were strapped to its roof.
Shit.
Cars were swerving everywhere, honking and I could see angry faces through windows.
A Crossfire and Hank’s 4Runner both zoomed out of parking spots at the front of Fortnum’s and joined the parking spots at the front of Fortnum’s and joined the chase.
Then, the bad guy in the passenger seat leaned out the window and aimed the gun at us.
“Holy cow! He’s gonna shoot!” I yel ed just as we heard gunshots and a “ping, ping, ping” as the bul ets hit the trunk of our car.
“They shot me! They shot my Mercedes! Those fuckin’
bastards!” Daisy squealed, then she hooked a right down some narrow road with parked cars on either side; barely enough room for us to drive down.
A car was coming toward us and Daisy leaned on the horn. “Get out of my way, motherfucker!” she shouted, leaning forward squinting through the windshield like she was nearsighted and nearly resting her huge bosoms on the steering wheel.
At the last possible moment in our scary game of chicken, the car swerved into an open spot and we flew by.
I looked behind us and saw the rest of the cars in our convoy fly by too.
“Drive to a police station,” I said to her.
“What?” she asked, stil laying on the horn.
“Take your hand off the horn and drive to a police station!” I yel ed.
She stopped honking her horn and I heard my purse ringing.
“Shit!” I snapped.
“Put your seatbelt on. Fuck the phone. Belt. Now!” I did as Daisy instructed. She hung a left running a stop sign and then two blocks down, she took another left, sign and then two blocks down, she took another left, thankful y through a green light, and got onto a two-lane road. My phone final y quit ringing and Daisy weaved in and out of traffic, honking her horn liberal y and staying out of the line of a clean shot.
We took several more turns. I kept glancing behind us; Eddie’s truck had fal en back, the Crossfire was behind the bad guys, Hank behind the Crossfire.
Daisy took another turn and we were in the parking lot of the police station Eddie had taken me to the day before.
I watched out the back window as the bad guys kept going. The Crossfire stopped on a squeal of tires. Hank’s 4Runner shot passed it and kept after the bad guys. Indy jumped out of the Crossfire and the minute she closed the door, it took off on another squeal of tires.
Then I could look no more.
Daisy executed what could only be described as a Bo-and-Luke-Duke-General-Lee stop on a squeal with the back half of the Mercedes swinging around and rocking to a halt. The red truck came in behind us. Annette’s Subaru fol owing it.
Two squad cars flew out of another exit; sirens and lights flashing.
Eddie didn’t bother to park. He stopped behind us, got out of the truck, Jet getting out the other side. She immediately started running toward the entrance of the police station, Indy was there, holding the door for her.
Eddie jogged toward us.
Daisy and I climbed out of the car.
“Get into the station. Now,” Eddie demanded and I
“Get into the station. Now,” Eddie demanded and I realized Jet and Indy already had their orders.
Daisy and I didn’t quibble. She threw her keys to Eddie, he caught them in midair and we hoofed it into the station, joining Jet and Indy. Annette and Jason came in not a minute later.
“What the fuck just happened?” Jason snapped.
Okay, so I’d learned of another situation that could take away Jason’s good mood.
I told them about the bad guys.
“Those fuckers shot my Mercedes,” Daisy said when I was done talking. She was shaking, maybe with rage but I figured it was something else.
I put my arms around her and she reciprocated the gesture.
“Those fuckers shot my Mercedes,” she whispered.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered back, feeling the weight of her fear settling firmly on my shoulders.
She held on.
Eddie walked in. His dark eyes, glittering with anger, went first to Jet and then they came to me.
“You okay?” he asked me.
I nodded.
“Daisy?” he said.
She took her cheek from my chest and nodded, but she didn’t let me go.
Eddie watched her a beat and then said, “I’l cal Marcus.”
Something changed in the air. I saw it in Daisy’s face and in Jet’s but I didn’t know what it was. Then Eddie looked at me. “You know those guys?”
I shook my head but said, “They took Bil y.”
“Bil y isn’t with them now,” he noted.
I just stared at him.
“Fuck,” Eddie finished.
He could say that again.