Deadly Star by CJ Petterson

Author:CJ Petterson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, suspense
Publisher: F+W Media
Published: 2013-02-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Evan checked his watch and yawned. His shift wouldn’t end for another five hours, but he was content to be bored. The growling noises under his belt reminded him it was coming up on time to take a break. His wife would have supper on the stove. The sun had grown from a distant white dot into a fat, burnished golden globe retreating steadily toward the edge of the earth. A patch of cumulus clouds rimmed the horizon, captured the last rays, and changed the colorless day into a mauve and gold twilight.

He stopped at the blinking red traffic signal and watched a brown and white wire-haired dog of mixed and undetermined origins trot across the intersection. The stray stopped beside the gas station on the corner to inspect an overturned garbage can.

The sheriff caught sight of little more than a blur when a car tore through the light. The white limo passed his cruiser headed into oncoming traffic then swerved back in front of him, tires squealing.

“Stupid son-of-a — ” Evan gasped. He punched the accelerator and flipped the on-dash switch. The siren yelped, and the light bar strapped to the top of the police car strobed red and blue. The Police Special engine kicked into passing gear. The tires squealed and burned parallel strips of rubber on the asphalt.

He searched blindly for the microphone, yanked it out of its dashboard clip, and radioed his duty officer.

“Jonas, I’m in pursuit of a white limo. Blew by me at the light on Main. Must be doing more’n a hundred. California plate. Got a partial: Three, seven, seven, Charlie. Don’t know the model. But I’m pretty sure it’s some kind of Mercedes.”

“What’s your twenty?”

“On County E16 right now, headed south.”

“Deputy Lee clocked out an hour ago. You don’t have backup.”

“Don’t need it. No way I can catch this guy. Just want to try to keep him in sight to see if I can figure out where he’s headed. Let me know when you run the plate.”

“On it.”

Evan watched the limo perform a screaming one-eighty and barrel toward him. Despite the car-rocking maneuver, its racing diesel engine didn’t slow down enough to change pitch.

Evan dropped the mic next to his leg. A burst of adrenaline sent sweat trickling down his back. “What the hell? I’m not about to play chicken with you,” he muttered.

He snugged down his seatbelt, and his pursuit training kicked in. Setting his hands at eleven and one o’clock on the steering wheel, he wrapped his fingers around the circle then moved his thumbs on top. He didn’t want them broken by the spokes if the wheel tore out of his grip.

He focused on the white vehicle hurtling straight at him then swung the cruiser hard right. The limo matched the change in direction and kept coming.

“Evan?” Jonas’s tinny voice crackled in the air.

“Kinda busy right now,” he said without reaching for the mic.

When he spun the wheel, the rear tires of the cruiser lost traction in the dirt on the shoulder of the road.

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