The dark sedan was three cars back, maintaining distance. Professional. Patient. Eugene had learned from his mistakes—no more rash attacks, no more giving Carson time to react.
This time, he was hunting smart.
“Carson?” Nora’s voice was tight with fear. She’d seen his expression, understood something was wrong.
“Put your seatbelt on.” He kept his voice calm, authoritative. “And hold on.”
“What—”
Carson cut the wheel hard, taking a sudden exit off the highway. Tires squealed. Horns blared. The sedan followed, no longer trying to be subtle.
“He’s following us,” Nora said, her hand braced againstthe dashboard.
“I know.” Carson floored the accelerator, his truck surging forward. “Call 911. Tell them officer in pursuit, suspect wanted for escape and attempted murder. Give them our location.”
Nora fumbled for Carson’s phone with shaking hands. She dialed, her voice surprisingly steady as she reported their situation.
Carson took another sharp turn, then another, trying to lose the sedan in the residential streets. But Eugene stayed on them, closer now, aggressive.
“Units are responding,” Nora relayed. “Five minutes out.”
Five minutes. An eternity in a car chase.
The sedan rammed them from behind. Nora screamed. Carson fought to keep control, the truck fishtailing before he corrected.
“He’s trying to run us off the road,” Carson said, his voice tight. “I need to find somewhere public. Somewhere with witnesses.”
He made a decision and turned toward downtown Blackridge—busier streets, more traffic, more cops nearby. Harder for Eugene to make a move without being seen.
The sedan followed, relentless.
Carson’s phone—still on speaker in Nora’s hands—crackled. Finn’s voice, “Carson, where are you? Dispatch says you’re in pursuit.”
“Fifth and Main, heading south,” Carson reported, weaving through traffic. “Eugene’s vehicle is a dark-blue sedan, licenseplate—” He rattled off the numbers he’d memorized from his mirror. “He’s armed and dangerous. Do not let him get away.”
“Units converging on your location,” Finn said. “Two minutes. Can you hold out?”
“Working on it.”
The sedan rammed them again, harder this time. The truck’s rear window shattered. Nora ducked instinctively, glass raining over the backseat.
Carson’s tactical mind kicked into overdrive. Two minutes until backup arrived. He needed to keep Nora safe, keep Eugene occupied, and not let this turn into a shootout in the middle of downtown.
Ahead, he saw the police station. Perfect.
Carson made a sharp turn into the station parking lot, the truck skidding to a stop near the front entrance. Officers on break outside immediately drew weapons when they saw the pursuing sedan.
Eugene slammed on his brakes, his car stopping fifty feet away.
For a moment, everything was still. A standoff.
Then Eugene’s door opened.
“Stay in the truck,” Carson ordered Nora. “Get down and stay down.”
“Carson—”
“Do it!”
