We turn right at the rest rooms, left at the coffee station, and as we pass a dark room, Lanita whispers, “This place is super-creepy.”
A quick hug is all the reassurance I have time for because our guide knocks on an office door in front of us.
“Just a moment.” The voice within makes us wait and after five minutes, I’ve had enough and try the handle.
It turns, I open the door, and hold out my hand. “Dashiell Montclair. This is my partner, Lanita Manuel. We’re investigating the death of your employee, Raymond Chandler.” I use my poshest British accent, the one Americans find adorable and hard to ignore.
“Desmond King, attorney.” The frowning man stretches and shakes his head. “The police were here earlier. Whatever you’re looking for? Ask them.”
I remain standing. “If you could answer one question, we’ll be on our way. Was Raymond Chandler about to blow the whistle on your anti-viral?”
“No. It’s ridiculous. Do you know how hard it is to take a new drug to market? I have no idea what game Maureen is playing but she’s not getting a cent from us. Sherry will see you out. Fucking treasure hunters.”
Back in the parking lot, I hop in the car and glance over at Lanita. “Shit. I believe him.”
“Me too. So where to next?” She holds out her phone, ready to put in a new destination.
Starting the ignition, I shake my head, no. “I have something else I need to take care of, first. Alone.”
“More secrets, Dash? I thought we were partners?” Her hurt tone cuts through my resolve and I reconsider.
Wondering if I’ll regret my decision, I rub the back of my head and loop her in. “My pops hired a team to buy back the flight recorder. I need to be there. You do not.”
She crosses her arms and tilts her head. “Oh, really? I bet you wouldn’t recognize a black box if it bit you in the ass.”
I didn’t study for this test. “I’m guessing it’s a dark cube?”
“Nice try, but it’s orange and has a serial number to identify it.” She may have won the battle but I’m not letting her anywhere near the war.
“My team has it covered. End of debate.” Plugging her address in my phone, I put the car in drive and as I turn out of the lot, she raises her voice at me.
“I’m a marine, dammit. I can handle myself.”
“Yes, you may have mentioned your former profession once or twice before.” I wink to soften my sarcasm but she’s having none of it and steals my phone from where I stuck it on the dash.
Driving in the middle lane, I’m boxed in. Rather than cause an accident, I let her see my message. A pilot, she recognizes the numbers as coordinates.
“Your meet is in the Meadowlands. You’ll never have time to drop me in the city and come back.”
I’m about to explain there’s a mall nearby but I’m distracted by a semi with its blinkers on. Slowing, so as not to plow into it, I glance in both side view mirrors. I’ve got cars to my left and right. Behind me, a truck honks, closing in on my back bumper.
Shit. I smell an ambush. “Landy, we got trouble. Gun’s in the glove compartment.”
While she loads the weapon, I lower my window and lift my elbows. “Fuck. Quick. Shoot.”
Seeing the rifle barrel seconds after me, she throws herself over my lap, aims, and as she fires, we’re rammed from behind. The impact slams her into the steering wheel and I would’ve squished her if not for my seat belt.
As blood stains my shirt from where my stitches pulled, I lean over. A bullet zings past my head and cracks the windshield. Next time they won’t miss.
One eye forward, one on the rearview mirror, my heart races as I shout, “You alright?”
“Better than you.” Back in the passenger seat, she fires at the car to our right. “What the fuck? Bulletproof?”
I have no time to respond because the truck at the back, smashes into us again, causing us to hit the one in front. Metal screeching and groaning, I yank the wheel back to the center. “Buckle up glow worm. It’s going to get rough.”
“Just a sec.” The military woman climbs back over my thighs, points, and shoots. This time a tire pops and as the car to my left falls back, I swerve into the opening,
Moments later, the two trucks collide. Holy shit. We narrowly escaped being crushed but there’s no time to celebrate. The backend of the first semi swings all over the road. I slam on my brakes but react too slowly. We’re batted across three lanes, fly through the air, and after bouncing on the grass, tip on our side.
