“It’s a Tacoma,” Penny said. “Tommy’s got one. I’ve washed that sucker more times than I can count. It’s black, or really dark blue.”
Dix spoke quickly on his cell, then stuffed it back in his jeans pocket. “Emory will be here in a minute with a cruiser. We’re going after that damned truck. B.B., you head back to the house and post a few of us there. You have enough cruisers to set up a perimeter. These guys are playing for keeps. Hey, keep my boys safe.”
In under three minutes, Dix, Penny, Claus, and Emory were piled into Emory’s squad car, Dix driving. Penny was leaning out the passenger-side window, trying to make out the truck’s tire tracks.
“Straight down Wolf Trap Road, Sheriff,” she yelled. “These tracks are a giveaway.”
They skidded and slid from one side of the road to the other because they were moving so fast, but Dix managed for the most part to keep them on the pavement. They came up to Lone Tree Road.
“Left, Sheriff!”
He spun into the turn, nearly into a ditch. Dix, cursing a blue streak, managed to get the cruiser heading down the road again.
Dix heard Claus say over and over in the backseat, “We’re gonna get ’em and skin ’em and fry their livers—”
“Good images, Claus,” Dix called out. “Too bad it’s not that kind of hunt. Penny, are you freezing out there?”
“I’m okay, Sheriff. Not good—we’re nearing the highway. You know that Doppler Lane on-ramp to Seventy East. If they get on that, we can put in a call to the Highway Patrol.”
“Nah, we’ll get them,” Dix said, and sped up. “Hey, that may be them ahead of us.” Dix pressed his foot on the accelerator. His deputies’ cruisers were well built with new winter tires and lots of power under the hood, but he knew he was pushing the envelope at the speed he was going in the middle of a snowstorm. He doubted the men in the truck were doing as well. He looked over at Penny, who grinned at him as she tugged her wool cap down to her eyes, her face nearly covered with ice. “Hallelujah, I see the truck, not more than fifty yards ahead! We’re going to get them, Sheriff!”
Claus stuck his head out the back window. “I can’t see the license plate yet, but the truck does look like Tommy’s Tacoma. For sure it’s black.”
The truck skidded around the eastbound on-ramp and leaped forward when it hit Highway 70 East, its rear end swerving violently to the right, then sliding nearly off the road. Finally the driver managed to straighten.
There would be few cars on the highway in this storm at one in the morning, a good thing, Dix thought, as he fought to keep the cruiser in the middle of the on-ramp, through the curve, and onto the interstate. “Emory, Penny was right. Call the Highway Patrol in, maybe they can cut these guys off ahead. Stumptree exit’s four miles up.”
Dix knew his speed was crazy in these conditions, but he didn’t care. He wanted these men badly. They’d attacked his home, put his boys in harm’s way, tried to kill Madonna, for God’s sake. Who was she? What had she done, or seen? He should never have brought her to his house, to his boys. But how could he have known two killers would come after her?
He was doing eighty, but he couldn’t see the truck. He supposed they might have cut their lights. “Penny, can you see the truck?”
“It’s in and out.”
“Emory, pass Penny your Remington so she can try to shoot their tires when I get us close enough. I want these morons alive.” The Remington bolt-action was Emory’s pride and joy, but he didn’t argue since Penny could out-shoot anyone in the department.
In that instant, a bullet slammed into the corner of the windshield, spiderwebbing the glass.
“Son of a bitch!” Emory yelled.
“Penny, pull back in!” Dix shouted as he slowed and swerved.
“Give me the rifle already, Emory. It’s time for some payback!”
“Dammit, Penny, be careful.”
She laughed, and checked that she had five live rounds. Penny was a lioness, Dix thought, no fear at all, and he sped up to get closer. He saw the truck, speeding as well, keeping the distance between them about constant. Penny fired once, twice, all five rounds, quick and controlled, into the dense falling snow.
Dix could barely make out the truck, but in that moment he saw a flash of light, low, near the back left tire.
He yelled to Penny, “I think you hit something, maybe a rear light.”
“Yeah, I think so, too,” Penny said as she jammed five more rounds Emory handed her into the Remington. “Hey, Emory, nice gun. This barrel is heavier than my mother-in-law.”