Paranormal Investigation Bureau Cozy Mystery Box Set Books 1-3 by Dionne Lister

Author:Dionne Lister [Lister, Dionne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780994602572
Publisher: Dionne Lister

Chapter 10

Sweat prickled my forehead and slicked my palms. I hated speaking too soon, saying everything was fine. It was clearly my fault: I should have said, “touch wood.” The thing I had going for me was that only a bigger idiot than me would demand I drive in Paris, on the wrong side of the road. The traffic zipped past. Should I warn him? Nah. The only way I was going to get out of this is if I crashed the car, which wasn’t going to be hard considering my lack of experience driving on the right—or wrong—side of the road.

I glanced in the rear-view mirror. His face was covered with a black balaclava. I wanted to ask if he was the same guy who’d try to grab me in Westerham, but I was scared to talk, in case it made him want to pull the trigger. Although, if he’d wanted me dead, he would’ve done it already. Right? I had to assume whoever had sent him wanted me alive, at least for a while. “I should warn you: I’m a crap driver.”

The gun pressed harder against my head. Okay, you asked for it, buddy. Operation Crash the Taxi commenced.

I put the left indicator on, checked for cars, then pulled out. Oh, God, I was driving in Paris. I bit my lip and concentrated. Could I crash the car on purpose, or would I chicken out? Also, James and Angelica were going to be so pissed that I’d totalled the taxi. I should never have gotten out to check the van. I’d stuffed up again. When would I learn?

“Turn left here.” He waved the gun, bopping me in the cheek.

“Ouch, dumbass. Watch where you poke that thing.” Kidnapping me was one thing, but until he killed me, I wasn’t going to play nice. He didn’t have to be violent. I was driving, wasn’t I? I scowled. I was so crashing this taxi. I didn’t care if I got hurt doing it. If he got me wherever he wanted me to go, it would be game over for me. Not happening. Also, crap—a left turn was tricky.

“Shut your mouth, bitch.” Heavy English accent. Maybe it was one of those guys from the black van. Just because the other van hadn’t been theirs, didn’t mean they hadn’t popped into Paris and snagged another car.

I slowed down, indicator on, and waited for cars coming the other way to pass. If I were in Sydney, a left turn would be one where I hugged the kerb. The cars cleared, and I went. My gaze darted everywhere to look for somewhere safe to crash. Yes, I saw the irony in that statement.

Then I saw my opportunity. I knew I was about to cause all kinds of trouble for James, but if I didn’t take this chance, what if I didn’t get another one?

The traffic slowed up ahead, but against every instinct, I pushed my foot down harder and accelerated.

“Slow down, you crazy bitch. What are you doing?”

Crashing into a police car, apparently.

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