Wild Rocket: A Coastal Caribbean Adventure (Tyson Wild Thriller Book 68) by Tripp Ellis

Author:Tripp Ellis [Ellis, Tripp]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tripp Ellis
Published: 2024-06-17T00:00:00+00:00

27

“You can’t be serious,” Tristan said.

“Sorry,” I replied.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” he grumbled to himself. “Do you know how much of our proprietary information has been compromised?"

"I don't."

"You know who the girl is?"

"She's been going by the name Zara, but I'm sure that's a cover identity. I’ve got a sketch artist rendering, and I have people in the intelligence community trying to put a face to a name. I can send you the sketch, if you like."

"Please. I can disseminate it to all of my people and make sure she doesn't try to compromise anyone else or infiltrate our operation."

“I'll send it right over."

"I really appreciate your efforts."

"No problem."

I ended the call and texted the sketch to him. Then my eye caught a glimpse of something concerning in the side-view mirror.

I’d noticed a black sportbike had been following us. It lingered three cars back.

I told Jack to make a few quick turns.

The bike followed.

We definitely had a tail.

“You know what to do,” I said to JD.

His foot mashed the pedal, and the flat-six howled. The Porsche launched forward, and Jack did his best impression of a Formula One driver.

The bike followed, weaving in and out of cars, keeping up. It stayed a few car lengths back, but it was obvious now. It was tailing us.

We zipped through traffic, and JD banked a hard right at the next intersection, then a quick left.

The bike hung with us, turn for turn.

The rider was dressed in black leathers and a black helmet.

Tired of the game, Jack stopped in the middle of the street to confront the situation.

The biker stopped a few car lengths behind us.

I hopped out of the car, flashed my badge, and approached the sportbike with my hand on the grip of my pistol. “You got a problem?”

The biker revved the throttle, then dumped the clutch. He raced forward, veered to avoid the back of the Porsche, and took off.

Dirt strategically covered the bike’s plates.

It howled as it blasted down the street, then took a left, vanishing into a neighborhood.

I walked back to the car and climbed in.

“What do you think that was about?” JD asked, knowing the answer.

“I think we might be homing in on the target,” I said. “Something tells me whoever killed Bam has been following our progress. They may have been watching Leif. Maybe that was a message to back off.”

“You think Leif’s in any danger?”

I gave Leif a call, but it went to voicemail.

"Hey, it's Deputy Wild. Give me a call when you get this. I don't want to alarm you, but we were followed as we left your apartment. I think whoever killed Bam might be looking to tie up loose ends. If you had any involvement or ever met Zara, you might want to watch your back. Get in touch. We can arrange some kind of protection, if need be."

I didn't know if Leif knew more than he was letting on or if he had truly no involvement.

I called Denise as JD continued to Griffin's house. “Hey, can you look up all black sportbikes registered on the island?”

“You got a partial plate.

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