Author: Valerie Hansen
Category: Nonfiction
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/valerie-hansen/page,3,574796-on_the_run.html
“Parked. I couldn’t reach the phone without stopping.”
“You need to lose yourself in a big parking lot, like maybe that one at the Springfield Sportsman’s Complex.”
“Too far away,” she said in a near whisper.
“All right. I’ll come get you.”
“No way. I can disappear without your help. I did it before and I can do it again.”
“At what cost?” Brad asked.
“What do you mean?”
“The people you work with at the hospital, for starters. We need to be sure that they’re protected. And then there’s your career. How do you expect to get a job as a nurse if you have to change your name again and can’t take your credentials with you?”
“You’re a big beautiful ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” she tossed back sarcastically.
“Just being practical. I have police connections and I can have your friends protected, to start with. I can also use your help identifying the head of the criminal organization.”
“My help? That’s ridiculous.”
“Hear me out. I was supposed to be working my way into the confidence of Speevey and his bosses but he went off the rails when his sons were hurt.”
“So? What does that have to do with me?”
“Simple. Revenge. And since I was working with Speevey, chances are the organization plans to eliminate all of us, him included, to tie up loose ends.”
Her sarcasm was back. “Peachy.”
“I’m telling it like it is.”
“According to you. Look, Brad, or whatever your real name is, I don’t trust you any farther than I can throw you—and maybe not even that far. Stop trying to find me. I can handle myself without your interference. Understand?”
“I understand, but clearly you don’t,” he shot back. “Battlefield Park? Is that where you are?”
Janie stuffed her little dog into the canvas carrier, started her car and put it in gear. “Give it up. I’m not telling you. Period.”
She was about to break the connection when he shouted, “Holland and Glenwood! There’s a little park near where you turned. I’ll be right there. Look for my white pickup truck.”
Janie revved the engine, whipped the wheel and fishtailed out the driveway onto the narrow, residential street. She was not going to be anywhere near there when he arrived. And she was certainly not going to put her trust, her life, in the hands of a man who kept company with drug peddlers and murderers, no matter how attractive or appealing she’d found him to be.
“What if I’m making a big mistake?” she asked herself. “What if he turns out to be an honest man, somebody I should have trusted?”
The little white dog in the carrier beside her had been quiet until they recrossed Jefferson. Then Pixie stuck her head out the top flap again and began to bark, making the fine hairs at the back of Janie’s neck prickle.
“I should never have listened to that so-called cop and let him scare me more,” Janie told the dog. “Or you, either. Hush. No barking.”
She may as well have been telling the wind to stop blowing. Pixie had more to say and was intent on expressing herself. She’d been noisy ever since she was a puppy and didn’t seem to be outgrowing the tendency.
Janie finally resorted to using her sternest voice while pulling to the curb to solve the problem. “No. No barking.”
She gave the soft fur at the top of the dog’s head a gentle push, tucked its ears down and leaned sideways to zip the opening on the top of the carrier. When Pixie couldn’t see out, she was less prone to getting excited and making excessive noise.
“I’m sorry, baby, but you gave me no choice. I need to pay attention to my driving, not to you.”
As she began to straighten, Janie peered out over the dashboard. She was merely checking traffic, not expecting to spot Brad’s white truck or anybody else she recognized.
Her eyes widened. She ducked back down. A big, black SUV was cruising past slowly rather than driving the same speed as the rest of the traffic. It had passed her without stopping. Would it be back? Or was she feeling panicky for nothing?
Another quick peek showed the SUV slowly turning the corner. The passenger’s wet side window was rolling down now that the rain had ended. A man’s bare elbow rested on the opening. She saw his head turn. Pause. Turn away, then snap back while he pointed. At her.
It was her enemies. It had to be. They were committed to completing the turn because of surrounding traffic but one of them had spotted her. She knew they had. If she hadn’t had to pull over to take care of Pixie they could have driven right up behind her!
Adrenaline surged. Janie whipped the car into a tight U-turn and sped back the way she had come. Crossed one side street. Approached a second.
A white pickup truck was pulling up to a stop sign on her right, preparing to enter the intersection. If that was Brad he probably didn’t know what she was driving and might not recognize her. Did she want him to? Was it time to swallow the bitter pill and admit she could use some help? Only one city block and some traffic separated her from the suspicious SUV.
Janie hit her brakes, honked her horn in three short bursts, three long, then three short again. SOS. Did he get the message?
It seemed to take forever for the white truck to turn to follow her but turn it did.
Janie almost cheered.
Three more unexpected turns to form a zigzagging course and she was positive the white truck was on her trail. All that was left to do was pray that the driver was on her side.
* * *
Brad couldn’t decide whether to be angry or glad. He finally settled on mixed emotions. That driver had to be Janie. Who else would honk a melody at him for no reason. His brain abruptly jumped to the conclusion she’d been trying to send Morse code. That might not be logical for most civilians but it fit her quirky personality.
He glanced in his mirrors and noted a black vehicle gaining on them, which meant that the third in line was truly speeding. Janie had been keeping her speed right at the top of what was legal and safe. He’d matched it as soon as he’d caught up. Therefore, the third member of their convoy was really pushing the limits, particularly in a residential neighborhood.
Trying to get her to answer her phone again, Brad kept calling. He saw her glance down to her right every time it rang but she didn’t pick it up. Finally, he saw a chance to pull parallel to her and shout across.
Janie met his challenge and rolled down her window. “What?”
“Change your mind?” he hollered.
Instead of replying she looked into her rearview mirror. Brad did the same. A dusty black vehicle with a heavy welded bumper and grille guard was still coming.
He saw her eyes widen. She looked back at him. “If that’s who I think it is, yes.”
“Smart lady. Pull ahead. I’ll stall them.”
She was gone before he’d finished speaking, leaving a cloud of gray exhaust in her wake. Brad knew enough about cars to worry. Janie’s compact was old and undoubtedly mechanically unsound. If she was like most drivers he knew, male or female, she hadn’t checked the oil or water levels in ages. Run low on either and she was liable to blow up her engine, particularly driving the way she currently was.
Brad slowed, concentrating on the massive bumper behind him. A factory-ready SUV was formidable in its own right. Add the kind of after-market equipment that this one sported and it became a two-ton battering ram. A little car like Janie’s would be easy to push off the road or cause to crash.
His hands tightened on his steering wheel. Even his full-size pickup truck was no match for this pursuer.
Slowing and keeping to the center of the two-lane road as much as possible, Brad watched the behemoth inching closer. Then it stopped. Just stopped and sat there. Why? What was the driver planning?
Up ahead, Brad saw Janie turn l
eft. If she was smart she’d hop onto Highway 65 or 44 and beat it out of town. In the meantime he could hopefully slow her pursuers enough to let her escape.
The few seconds he’d used to check on Janie were not advantageous. When he glanced back into his rearview mirror, he saw the SUV growing larger and larger. It was coming for him, hard and fast!
Brad jammed the accelerator to the floorboard. His truck engine roared. Rear tires squealed and laid tracks of rubber. Moments later he was hit so hard from behind he lost control.
The right side of his pickup climbed the curb, took out a mailbox, sideswiped a tree and came to rest against a parked delivery van. Sounds of the collision echoed up and down the otherwise quiet street. People popped out of their houses, aghast, phones in hand. Most took photos, waiting for something else to happen. A few, Brad hoped, were calling 911.
The SUV that had hit him had deployed airbags for its driver and front seat passenger and they were still struggling to push them away. His truck was so old it wasn’t equipped with that kind of crash protection, so he didn’t have to fight inflated white bags. He did, however, wonder if it would still run. The engine might be okay but it was pretty hard to steer with a crumpled fender, not to mention the possibility that the collision had damaged his radiator.
Brad climbed out stiffly, leaning on the left side of his truck, and worked his way to the hood to see for himself. The damage was worse than he’d imagined. A tire was off the rim and that whole wheel was skewed. His head spun. His breathing was ragged. His ribs ached from where the seat belt had grabbed to keep him from sailing through the windshield.
But Janie escaped, he reminded himself.
Pride was short-lived. Two burly guys were climbing out of the black SUV, which had sustained little damage thanks to its heavy grille cover. The driver drew a gun. The passenger was talking into a cell phone. He, too, was armed.
Brad instinctively reached for the duty holster that wasn’t there. His jaw muscles clenched. This was not looking good.
* * *
Janie heard the crash. So did Pixie. The little dog sounded as if she was trying to tear her travel box apart at the seams.
Slowing, Janie watched for Brad’s truck. The idea that he’d been involved in the terrible accident she’d just heard happening wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself he was fine. Somehow, she knew he wasn’t fine. Not fine at all. And it was her fault because he’d been trying to protect her.
Turn around, her conscience ordered. Go back. Help him.
“No, no, no,” Janie insisted. She coasted to the edge of the road, leaving the car idling while she considered her next move. Emergency medicine was sometimes the only thing that stood between survival and death. But what about her survival? Brad had insisted that she was in danger from criminals and the actions of the SUV driver had reinforced that warning.
Suppose Brad had neutralized them via the crash? she asked herself. Or suppose he was badly hurt and needed medical aid ASAP? Her breath caught as her mind considered other scenarios. Bystanders could also need her help.
All the times in the past when she had wept and prayed for someone, anyone, to save her from her brothers’ abuse flooded her memory. How could she not go back and render aid?
Janie closed her eyes for a momentary prayer followed by a plan of sorts. She’d circle the block where she’d left Brad and come in from the opposite side. Then she’d take stock of the situation at a distance and make her final decision whether or not to proceed. That was logical.
“And not quite as foolish as facing danger head-on.”
She checked the zippers on the dog carrier, then got out and moved it to the floor behind her for added safety before fastening her seat belt again and pulling back into traffic. A knot of cars was crowding the intersection behind her. Could they see the accident from there? Probably, meaning her original plan was feasible.
Hands fisted on the steering wheel, senses on high alert, Janie turned one corner, then the next. From the final side street she could see everything, and the sight made her heart twist, her breathing becoming shallow and rapid.
Brad was standing near his wrecked truck, backing away from two evidently armed men, his hands in the air, a duffel bag slung over his shoulders.
“Facing danger head-on is right, after all,” she murmured as every muscle in her body tensed, ready for fight or flight.
She knew she could bypass this final turn and probably get away while the thugs concentrated on her erstwhile protector. That’s what a sensible person would do.
With a flash of insight, Janie realized she could not wait for police intervention to arrive, nor could she abandon a man who had risked so much for her sake. Those kinds of people were too rare, too special. It didn’t matter whether he was really a cop or not, although she believed he was. The important element was survival. And right now his chances didn’t look promising.
She inched her car past a couple of stopped vehicles whose occupants were leaning out windows, aiming phones at the scene to take pictures despite the obvious risk. Didn’t they think? Didn’t they care how close they were to possible harm or even death?
Well, she did. But that wasn’t going to stop her. Silent prayer formed the background for her actions as she completed the final turn and aimed her compact car toward the crumpled pickup truck. It wasn’t too late to change her mind and flee, she reasoned.
“No. No. No,” Janie said over and over, the volume of her voice rising with each repetition.
Her engine roared, tires whining as they slipped on the pavement seeking traction. Pixie joined the chorus of sound with a high-pitched howl.
Janie gripped the steering wheel like a drowning person would a lifeline and charged into the standoff. The armed men didn’t take their eyes off Brad so she honked her horn in a long blast they couldn’t ignore.
The closest man turned, weapon in hand. Janie swerved toward him.
He dived clear, landing on a grassy verge.
The second man emerged from behind the SUV, took aim at Janie’s car as she passed and fired. The rear window shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
Ducking, she peeked over the dash only enough to make sure she didn’t run over Brad.
He was limping into the middle of the street and waving his arms while bystanders took cover behind closed doors.
“Get in,” she shouted, skidding to a stop beside him.
Visible anger wasn’t enough to keep him from opening the door and throwing himself onto the seat. She was already moving before he got both feet in and managed to slam the door.
“What was that?” Brad demanded.
“Just returning a favor,” Janie yelled back, taking the closest corner on two wheels and barely missing several vehicles of lookie-loos who were scattering after hearing the gunshot.
The narrow escape had left her elated enough to start to grin. She glanced over at him as she straightened the wheel and accelerated. “We made it!”
Brad’s eye roll and expression of disgust struck her so funny she laughed.
When he said, “I can’t believe you actually did that,” Janie agreed.
“I can’t believe I did, either.”
FOUR
Brad stayed on edge until he was certain they had temporarily evaded their pursuers. Janie had wisely taken to the back roads of Springfield and seemed to be relaxing a little, too, except for the death grip she had on her steering wheel.
“I think we’re in the clear,” he said. “See if you can find a secluded place to pull over.”
“Why?” Her eyes were wide as she glanced his way.
“Because it’s time I filled you in about what’s been going on.”
“It can’t be as scary as what my imagination has come up with,” Janie quipped with a nervous laugh.
“Don’t count on it.” Brad w
as sorry she’d become involved but, thinking back, he couldn’t see how he could have prevented it.
“Okay.” She wheeled into the driveway of a house whose yard was unkempt and cluttered with trash. There was a dilapidated for-sale sign nailed to a tree fronting the street. “How about here?”
“This will do as long as we leave the car and step into the shadows.”
Janie huffed as she climbed out and checked the condition of her faithful car. “Why bother? The bullet hole in what’s left of the window kind of stands out.”
Scooping up a handful of soggy leaves, Brad scattered them over the trunk lid, distracting from the damage. “That will help disguise it.” He dusted off his palms and reached for her hand. “Come with me.”
“No way.”
He was about to insist when Janie opened the rear door of her sedan, bent for a few seconds, then lifted a squirming little mop of a dog into her arms. “I’m not leaving Pixie.”
“Fine. Bring her. Just get out of sight before somebody sees us. As a matter of fact...” He reached in and grabbed the small duffel containing the drug shipment. “I’ll take this with us, too. No sense tempting fate.”
“I don’t believe in fate or luck,” Janie countered. “I believe in God.”
“Yeah.” Brad shrugged. “Me, too, but I also know how badly humans can mess up their lives by making foolish decisions.” He turned to lead the way through the wet knee-high grass and into what had apparently been a cozy backyard.
Despite the puddles of rainwater, Janie snapped a short, pink leash on Pixie’s collar and let her down to sniff around where someone or something had flattened an area of the grass.
“Watch out for feral dogs and cats,” Brad warned. “That little pup is barely a mouthful for whatever lives back here.”
“She’d bark if there was something dangerous around,” Janie said with conviction. “Okay. We’re out of sight. What did you want to talk to me about?”
Brad raked his fingers through his dark hair. “Me. And this mess we’re in,” he said. “I told you I was working undercover, right?”