The Memory Collector by Meg Gardiner

Author:Meg Gardiner
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Thrillers, Fiction, General, Women Sleuths, Mystery & Detective
ISBN: 9780451230263
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2009-09-15T04:00:00+00:00

19

The Navigator’s engine swelled in Jo’s ears. Its red paint flashed in the bright sunlight as the SUV veered toward her. Cars in the intersection and people on the sidewalk swerved like crazed fish scattering at the approach of a shark. She turned and ran.

She crashed into a cluster of trash cans by the curb. She went down amid a clatter like steel drums falling over, hands out, and pitched to the sidewalk.

“Look out,” a woman shouted.

Over the shining barrel of the trash can, Jo saw the Navigator bearing down on her.

Get your butt up off this sidewalk, Beckett. She scrambled to her feet and aimed for the door of a Chinese restaurant. All around her on the sidewalk, she saw fleeing backs. She heard distant sirens. Through the window of the restaurant, people stared at her with alarm, eyes wide, chopsticks frozen halfway to their mouths.

A cry escaped her throat. If she ran into the restaurant, the Navigator would ram the window.

She jinked left and pitched along the sidewalk at a flat, crazed sprint. Her hands were clenched, her hair falling from the claw clip into her face. Behind her the engine revved. The street streamed by, trees and cars and shops painted with throbbing murals in rain forest colors.

She needed a cement wall to dive over. A bank with an open vault. A crack. A dime edge, a fire escape, a drainpipe to climb. Her feet pounded the sidewalk.

Ahead she saw a parking garage. She pinned her gaze to it. Reinforced concrete, tight turns, and a hundred metal chassis she could put between her and the Navigator—she aimed for the entrance.

In her peripheral vision she saw a black vehicle on the street ahead. It was barreling in her direction. She heard the Navigator, seemingly right between her shoulders. She swerved into the entrance of the parking garage, toward the ticket machine.

On the street, tires squealed. She heard the Navigator’s brakes engage, hard. She glanced back.

Gabe’s black 4Runner had skidded to a stop, half askew, blocking the entrance to the garage. The Navigator was stopped in the street beyond it. Kanan honked, a solid insistent blast. The 4Runner didn’t move. The sirens grew louder.

Kanan spun the wheel. With sunlight flashing off his tinted windows, he roared away.

Jo stood for a second. She couldn’t seem to move, could barely inhale. The world was throbbing in sync with her heartbeat.

Gabe climbed out of the 4Runner and strode toward her. She ran and threw herself against him. Without breaking stride he swept an arm around her shoulder and shepherded her toward the 4Runner.

“You okay?” he said.

She nodded tightly.

Eyes sweeping the street, he led her to the passenger side and opened the door. She jumped in. He jogged around, hopped behind the wheel, and pulled sharply back into traffic.

“How did . . . ?” She grabbed his shoulder. “Thank you.” Her hand was shaking. “How did you find me?”

“The phone. You never hung up. I heard you tell Shepard to head for Sixteenth Street.

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