Page 32 of Sam to the Rescue
“Not bad. Hopefully, we’ll have something soon but don’t get your hopes up.”
“I won’t.” I pause at the door. “You don’t, by any chance, know what Suds is up to?”
“Probably no more than you.” His dark lashes lift off his handsome cheeks and his piercing gaze tells me I have his full attention.
“Just tell me you’ve got a drone tracking him.”
The Patten manager grimaces. “Too dangerous. The COGs are mostly ex-military. They’d spot it in an instant.”
“So, he’s out there all alone?” My heart races, surely the Feds wouldn’t leave him without a way of watching.
“I’m working on it. Don’t do anything foolish.” His eyes shoot laser beams of super mind-reading powers at me, forcing me to tell the truth.
“I won’t. I promise.”Whatever I do, it won’t be stupid. So there.
Nothing more to be done in the city, I call for a ride home and in heavy traffic sit back, and close my eyes. The last few days have been some of the worst I remember. Since we first met, I could call Suds at any time and share. Now, it seems like the whole world is conspiring to keep us apart.
Thankfully, a message notification interrupts the tiny violins playing at my pity party. The text contains a pencil drawing of an older guy, maybe in his fifties. His crooked nose, high forehead and receding hairline seem somehow familiar but as I study the face, I lose my light.
What the fuck?Instead of going over the bridge, my driver took the Holland Tunnel. Who the hell mistakes Jersey for Brooklyn? “Hey, where’re you going?”
“Sorry, miss. This is my first day.” His taut expression says just the opposite. Did the moron mistake me for a tourist?
“Just turn around when you can but I’m not paying for your mistake.” Dammit. Opening my phone, I check his rating and he seems legit but now, I wonder.
After a mile and a half of nothing but white tiles and pavement, we exit into a thunderstorm. Rain pummels the windshield and lightning flashes as he drives us into a neighborhood of boarded-up warehouses.
Shit. I watch our progress on the Uber app. “You’re still going the wrong way, dude.”
In the rear-view mirror, nervous eyes flick to me then the back window.
Heart thumping, I twist to see what he’s looking at.No way.The driver following us matches Shabana’s sketch. Before I fully grasp the danger, the driver’s side door opens and Uber-man dives out the car, leaving us barreling toward a brick wall.
If that’s not bad enough, as I’m climbing over the seat, sketch-man guns his engine. The force of his impact sends my face into the steering wheel. Dazed, with blood pouring out my nose, I pull up on the emergency brake.
The air bag explodes and lights out.
Chapter 21
Suds
My pal Lucky seldom loses his temper but I have to lower my phone’s volume when he speaks. “Your wife doesn’t listen worth shit.”
“What happened?” I jump up off the office couch where I’ve been waiting for a call from the COGs, grab my weapon, and dash out the door.
“She’s fine and says you shouldn’t come.” In the background, hospital noises cause my heart to race even more.
“Where. Is. She?” The stairs fly under my feet and I jump the last four to the outside glass door.
Outside, in the pouring rain, he texts me the address. “She bumped her head pretty bad so they’re keeping her for observation, probably overnight. I’m sorry, mate. She said she’d stay put.”
“Not your fault. Stay on the line.” Grabbing my keys, I jog to my SUV and start the engine. “Who’s got Mikey?”
“He’s here with your in-laws.”
“Tell them I’m on my way.” The fastest way to Jersey City from Brooklyn is by car and it takes too damn long but there’s no other choice.
As I wait at the traffic light, my wife’s caller ID sings from my phone. “Sam?”