Burke wasn’t so sure. He believed that she was in deeper than she’d admitted to.
The blue minivan sped up. Within minutes, it was tailgating the agency SUV. Burke wished that Brandon and Stacy were in the other vehicle. If they had been, he and Tessman could have forced the minivan off the road and they would have confronted the occupants, which looked to be just two men.
Burke executed blocking maneuvers when the minivan tried to pass him. He swung hard to cut the driver off as he hit the gas to stay in front of him. He rode the center line, swerving to whichever side the minivan tried to accelerate past him on. There was little shoulder on this stretch of road, and the ditches that ran along both sides were steep.
The white SUV got a good lead.
“What do you want us to do with these assholes, Taco?” Burke broadcast as he cut the wheel to the left. “They don’t seem too interested in us, want to get around us.”
“That tells me they don’t know who’s in your vehicle,” Wilson said. “Interesting.”
“Well, they can’t see inside our SUV. It looks like there’s only two of them in the minivan. Should we let them pass and then, when they’re in between the two vehicles, force them off the road?” Tessman said. He and Burke momentarily exchanged a knowing glance.
“No, Moe, can you shoot its tires? Let’s slow them down or stop them, get them out of our way,” Wilson said.
Tessman removed his seatbelt and swiveled in his seat to be in the correct position to fire. Then he drew his Sig P229 from the small of his back and took the safety off, gripping it with both hands, ready to fire, below window level. “Let the minivan ease up on my side.”
Burke pulled into the left lane. The minivan accelerated. Burke lowered Tessman’s window. The cold winter air invaded the inside of the SUV, howling through the open window. As the minivan accelerated to come alongside them, Tessman took aim out of the window. One shot. The front driver’s side tire blew, and the minivan violently pulled left. Burke swerved to avoid the impact. The driver of the minivan over-corrected, and it careened right. It left the road and hit the deep culvert beside the road at too high a speed, which made it flip. The vehicle rolled twice, coming to rest on its roof in the field beside the road.
Tessman calmly pulled himself back into the SUV and settled into his seat, re-closing his window, as Burke called the mile marker into Ops with a request to have the local LEOs dispatched to the accident scene.
“Nice shooting, Moe,” came Wilson’s voice through comms. “How’d we pick up the tail?”
“Either a tracker on the white SUV, on someone, or someone’s phone is being tracked,” Burke said. His gaze flickered to the two passengers in the back seat. “Hand your phones over.”
“I don’t have mine,” Ellison said. “I don’t have my wallet or any of my things. I assume the coroner’s office does.”
“I’m only going to ask you this once, Ellison,” Burke said. “Does your father have anyway to track you?”
“Just through my phone, which clearly is not on me,” he answered.
Tessman swiveled in his seat, his hand reaching back towards Stacy. “Your phone.”
“You have it. You took it before I went into the bathroom,” she said.
Burke had forgotten he’d taken it and dropped it into his coat pocket. He retrieved it. He handed it to Tessman. “What’s your password, Stacy?”
Stacy Ramsey tripped over her words. “I don’t understand. I haven’t texted or called anyone.”
“Password,” Burke repeated.
She recited a six-digit code. Tessman plugged it in. He scrolled through her last calls and text messages. “Nothing,” he said as he held Stacy’s phone up to Burke.
“Toss it,” Burke said. His eyes went to Stacy’s in the rearview mirror. “Sorry about this.”
Tessman rolled the window down and tossed her phone out.
“What the hell?” Stacy screamed. “My phone!”
“The only way to be sure we’re not being tracked through it,” Burke said.
“You could have just turned it off,” Stacy argued.
“Most phones can be tracked for several hours or days even after they’re powered down,” Burke said.
Stacy said nothing in reply.
Through comms, Burke and Tessman could hear something similar was taking place in the white SUV too, as Rogers collected Tom and Valerie Butler’s phones. They were also thrown out of the window.
