Ben’s sedan was no match for the huge, full-size SUV. The driver rammed into the side of the car, pushing them left over the curb and onto the southbound Blue Line train tracks. They bounced over them and continued toward the northbound tracks.
Lainie watched in horror at the light of a northbound Blue Line train headed right for them.
Ben slammed on the brakes. The SUV driver did likewise, still sliding in front of them, fishtailing a bit as the tires smoked and he laid down rubber.
Ben struggled for control over the car. He jerked the vehicle to the right to get it out of the direct path of the northbound train, but it was too late. Momentum carried them onto the track. He couldn’t pull the wheel fast enough.
The train’s horn screamed, and the train impacted the side of the car, sideswiping and scraping the driver’s side with a sickening squeal of metal on metal. Sparks flew, the driver’s side airbag deployed, slamming Ben back in his seat.
The driver stepped out of the SUV and the vehicle blocked traffic. He was just ahead of them and to Lainie’s right. He raised a handgun. “I want the book!” he yelled. “Just give me the book.”
The train had stopped and she opened her door, knowing Ben was groggy from the airbag and still pinned in by the train. She had to draw the gunman away from Ben. With one foot out, using the door as cover, she pointed her gun at the man. “Drop the gun!”
He ignored her and fired, shots impacting their vehicle’s windshield. Lainie returned fire immediately, hitting him twice and he went down.
But the threat was not over. In her peripheral vision, Lainie caught movement. It had to be the passenger from the SUV. Lainie recognized Crystal Benton as the woman began shooting.
She had a better angle than the driver had, and a bullet whizzed by Lainie’s face. Fearing for Ben, Lainie went low and moved right, shooting as she moved, her first shots firing off-balance with no aim.
Benton followed her movement, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Lainie was shooting at her. At least two vehicles in the southbound lanes had stopped abruptly, and bullets slammed into the hood and left fender of one.
Lainie had no cover so she had to plant, aim, and shoot. Benton was like a robot, advancing and firing. A bullet struck Lainie’s right shoulder and she lost the grip on her gun.
She dropped to her knees and slid behind a second stopped vehicle, twisting back as soon as she was able. Two shots dinged the car, andshe felt one whistle past her ear. Once at the back of the car, training kicked in.
Terrified that Ben or an innocent driver would now be shot, Lainie grabbed her gun with her left hand, aimed, and fired.
Ben was stuck. He couldn’t open the driver’s door because it was jammed against the train, and the airbag was slow to deflate. The pain in his left shoulder told him that his collarbone was likely broken or seriously strained from being whipped against the seat belt. The windshield took two bullets and then spiderwebbed, shattering but staying in place. He heard more bullets hit the side of the car as he struggled to undo his seat belt and draw his weapon.
He heard Lainie return fire and saw the driver go down. He ripped his seat belt off as the second shooter appeared and Ben threw himself across the front seat as more bullets sprayed the car. He prayed that Lainie was okay but feared for her because he no longer heard her firing. He just couldn’t risk sticking his head up and giving the shooter a clear shot.
Then two shots rang out. He prayed that was Lainie from behind the car.
Then silence.
CHAPTER 55
Lainie rested on a paramedic gurney while her shoulder was tended to. Stitches were in her future, but the wound was not all that painful now.
Medics checked Ben out and determined that his shoulder was likely separated.
“I’m good with a sling,” Ben said.
The medics put his arm in one.
“You okay, Lainie?” he asked. “I’d like to go check out the driver. The coroner just got here.”
“I’ll be fine. Let me know what you find on him.”
He nodded and walked toward the yellow sheet that covered the SUV’s driver.
The street was full of emergency lights—police, LA sheriff because the Blue Line was their jurisdiction, paramedics, and fire because Ben’s vehicle had begun to smoke. Also, despite the late hour a large crowd encircled the scene. Lainie bet many of them had been on the train and had to disembark.
While the SUV driver was dead, Crystal Benton had been transported to the hospital. The medics had acted in a manner that told Lainie the woman’s injuries were life-threatening.
Chief Mackall had arrived on-scene a few minutes ago. After he inspected the Blue Line train, he came over to Lainie. “How are you, Detective?” He was not in uniform, he wore jeans and a department sweatshirt, but he still carried himself like the man in charge.
“My shoulder hurts, but they told me that the bullet went through and through. Have you heard about Benton?”
