On Wings of Deliverance by Elizabeth White

Author:Elizabeth White [White, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2006-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

Briggs screeched into the bus station parking lot on two badly damaged wheels. He’d hit a monster-size pothole on the way from the campground and heard a sickening pop and hiss.

He couldn’t have said when it occurred to him that the bus station was the obvious place to look for them; it was just a finely tuned intuition. But he was going to have to hurry. He’d fired a gun in a public campground and he could already hear sirens in the background. If they caught up to him, he’d have to jump through all kinds of hoops to excuse his outrageous behavior. If the judge had to get involved, he was not going to be a happy camper.

But “sufficient to the day is the evil thereof” was what his grandma used to say when she was telling him not to borrow trouble. Whatever that meant.

Anyway, one problem at a time.

He abandoned the Crown Victoria—interesting coincidence that his car and the town had the same name—and raced inside the station. Wildly, he looked around but didn’t see hide nor hair of his quarry. He chugged past the line of people waiting for tickets, shoved aside a fat-lady tourist wearing the ugliest hat he’d ever seen and slapped a hand on the counter.

“¡Americanos! Have you seen two of them?” He held up two fingers.

The ticket agent copied his move. “Peace. Es nece-sario esperar, señor.” Wait.

“No! Not peace! Two! Dos Americans!” He didn’t have time to dig out his phrase book, so he raised his voice and spoke slowly. “A man and a woman dressed like a little boy. Did they buy tickets just now?”

The lady he’d pushed aside tapped him on the shoulder. “There were two Americans in here a little while ago, but they just got on that bus.” She jerked a thumb toward the open doorway, where he saw a bus huffing and steaming. It began to move, spewing exhaust. “Now would you get to the end of the line where you belong, you jerk? It’s my turn.”

Briggs stepped on her toe hard as he tore outside. But he was too late. The bus pulled away before he reached the curb. Boiling with frustration, he ran behind it, breathing exhaust fumes for half a block before his asthma kicked in. Wheezing, he slowed, then stopped in the middle of the street, doubled over. A motorcycle roared past, then another bus, honking at him.

He’d let them get away again. One minute earlier and he’d have had them. He was going to be shaking hands with Frank Carter in Hades if he didn’t get this thing in gear soon.

Trudging back inside the terminal, he ignored the woman in the ugly hat, who gave him a dirty look as he went by. He scanned the schedule posted above the ticket window. The bus was headed to Reynosa, at least he knew that much. He could drive hard and fast, get there first and nail both of them as they got off the bus.

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