Muzzle flash flickered, and bullets flew.
JD and I drew our weapons and took cover behind the white sedan.
The girl crouched below the vehicle. It was at a slight angle—just enough to offer a little protection.
My pistol hammered my palm, and smoke wafted from the barrel as I returned fire.
Bullets crisscrossed the boulevard, pelting body panels and shattering glass.
I don't think the thug was expecting return fire. After a short volley, he hopped back into the SUV. The driver put it into gear, stomped the gas, and squealed the tires. It whipped around and continued through the intersection. The SUV had temp plates, and I didn’t get a good look at them.
With veins full of adrenaline and my heart pounding, I looked at Jack.
He gave me a nod.
I moved to the girl. "Are you okay?”
Frazzled, she nodded her head. "They started chasing me.”
“Who?”
"I don't know. I picked up a fare. Then all of a sudden, they were behind me and started shooting. They killed my passenger.”
I looked her over. The side of her face and hair were speckled with blood, but it wasn’t hers. She didn’t show any signs of injury.
I moved to the backseat and opened the door. A man in his mid-40s lay slumped over. He’d taken a bullet to the back of the skull. It had exited through his face.
Not a pretty sight.
The interior was painted with crimson.
I fished the passenger’s wallet from his pocket, along with a cell phone, while Jack called dispatch.
In his current condition, facial recognition was a no-go for accessing the device. There wasn’t a fingerprint scanner on the phone either.
I returned to the girl. “What’s your name?”
“Paisley.”
I introduced myself and JD.
“You don’t have any enemies, do you?”
“Not like that.”
“You didn’t cut those guys off or anything?” I muttered in jest.
“No.”
I didn’t think this was a road rage incident.
Paisley was cute. Early 20s, soft features, blue eyes, trim figure. Girl next door vibes. I couldn’t imagine these guys would be after her. Most likely her passenger.
I asked Paisley, “Where’d you pick him up?”
“The airport.”
“He have any baggage?”
