Page 84 of Redemption
The van careens around corners, nearly sideswiping other moving vehicles in pursuit of the BMW. Evidently, the van wasn’t meant for high-speed chases because the thing looks like it might tip over. I drive sedately several car lengths back, out of the pandemonium, because unlike the van, I know exactly where J’s going. But this whole operation will only go perfectly if DuFort takes the bait.
After a few minutes, it’s obvious the van is struggling to keep up with J’s evasive driving. It runs another red light, nearly colliding with a city bus.
Wow, she’s good at this.
Clearly, my brother knew what she was capable of doing. I certainly wouldn’t have expected her driving to be so skilled.
Just when I think the van is going to lose her, a silver Mercedes roars past me at the light, cutting off an SUV and the police van. It gains on the BMW with a take-no-prisoners approach to police pursuit.
It has to be DuFort. It has to be.
My brother swore that no matter where he was in the city, DuFort would take the bait. He couldn’t help it. His arrogance wouldn’t let him miss this chance.
J’s driving becomes even more skilled as she cuts across lanes, neatly shooting gaps in traffic and totally avoiding collisions. To the untrained viewer, it looks like a mess, but to me, it looks perfect.
Only a few more minutes to the pier. You’re so close, girl. Get there, get out, and run.
The van, still struggling to keep up with the cars, nearly takes out a pedestrian and then slams to a halt as a tour bus stops ahead of it with no warning.
I cruise past it and smile when I hear the tires of the silver Mercedes squeal as it tears around a corner to keep up with J.
Almost there. Almost there.
As soon as the pier is in sight, I see a miracle taking place.
J is already out of the black BMW, a duffel bag over each shoulder, racing toward the boat awaiting her at the end of the pier. The silver Mercedes jumps a curb and drives over the grass and nearly rams the parked BMW as it jerks to a stop.
The door flings open, and a middle-aged man in a suit leaps out and sprints toward the pier as my brother pulls J aboard the boat.
The water around the nondescript white charter fishing boat churns as whoever is at the helm buries the twin throttles. The boat roars away with both J and my brother standing on the back deck.
Gun in hand, the man from the Mercedes fires his pistol toward the boat as he runs to the end of the pier.
I park, hop out, and duck down as I jog toward the open door of what I assume is DuFort’s Mercedes. It has to be him.
It takes me less than ten seconds to slip the magnetic tracker and bug under the seat, where it locks onto the metal.
I can’t believe this is so easy.
With a final glance at the boat as it disappears from my view, I jog back to the Camry and shift it into drive and roll away.
Through my open window, I can hear the man’s impotent rage as he bellows at the boat from the pier.
“I’m going to kill you, bitch! Wait until I get my hands on your little girl!”
Yep, that’s him.
The rest of his tirade cuts off as I exit the parking lot, but I know Leo will pick up every single thing he says next.
We got you, DuFort. We got you.
Chapter Forty-Six
Mount
As J runs toward the boat with the duffel bags over her arms, I’ve never been happier that Keira is thousands of miles away, with our daughter, safe and sound. There’s no way I would have let her take part in any of this. Not a chance in hell. Not for all the love or money in the world. My wife will never be part of a life like this again. Ever.
“Come on! Let’s go!” I hold out my hand and yank J aboard as a silver Mercedes nearly collides with the black BMW M5 V loved to drive.
