Hair of the Dog (Bonnie Parker, PI Book 6) by Prescott Michael

Author:Prescott, Michael
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-02-06T00:00:00+00:00

20

Okay, that had gone well.

The “Capiche?” at the end might’ve been pushing it. A little too Goodfellas, maybe. She wasn’t even Italian, except in the sense that all New Jerseyans were sort of Italian by proxy. But what the hell, he’d bought it.

Barbara Annis wouldn’t have any trouble with him again. She might even get that hassle-free divorce.

All in all, she was feeling pretty good about things when she slid behind the wheel of the Mustang. This was one of those moments when she wished she hadn’t opted for the pushbutton start. Cranking the key in the ignition would have been strangely satisfying right now. To compensate for the lack of wrist action, she lit a cigarette as she pulled away from the curb.

A U-turn aimed her in the direction of Maritime’s main street. She headed south. After a couple of miles, the street widened into a highway and shunted her across the Crab River Inlet on a bridge built tall enough to accommodate the masts of pleasure craft. At the summit, she had a clear view of the traffic behind her in the rearview mirror. A van was gaining on her, intent on passing her in the right lane.

The bridge slumped, and the Mustang descended. She was mostly coasting now. Not her friend in the van, though. He’d put on more speed. She noticed that his front window was down. That was a little odd on a rainy night.

She remembered the van that had rumbled down the street in Maritime after she’d pulled up to the curb. Cargo van, dented side panel.

The same van that was pulling alongside her now.

In the open window, a shadowed face and a gleam of metal.

She punched the gas. The Mustang kicked forward, and the window on her passenger side fractured into a webwork of gummed safety glass.

Gunshot. Silenced. No report, no muzzle flare.

The van was accelerating again, threatening to sidle up against her for another love tap. She hit the brakes, letting the asshole blow past her before he could cut his speed.

The bridge bottomed out, feeding both vehicles onto the flat stretch of highway along the inlet. She thought about pulling into the marina, trying to lose him there, but playing cat-and-mouse among the moored sailboats and cabin cruisers seemed like a better idea for a movie than for real life.

Instead she made a sharp left at the first intersection, cutting off opposing traffic in a blare of angry horns, and headed into downtown Miramar.

He missed the turn. She’d taken it too suddenly for him to adjust. He would have to take the next side street and double back.

At the corner she slammed the Mustang to a halt outside Alcatraz. Not the prison. A bar. It wasn’t where she wanted to be on her first day of abstinence, but she couldn’t be choosy right now.

She grabbed her purse with the Ruger inside. Through a slippery fog of rain, she ran around the rear of the car to the bar’s front door. Something caught her eye, some detail that might be important, but she had no time to think about it.

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