“What do you think?” an anxious Katrina Alpert asked as they left Greene’s house.
“Wait,” McCauley said. “The hundred foot rule.”
“The what?”
“One hundred feet. Sorry, I guess it would be more like thirty meters. Thirty meters before you talk about a house you’re going to buy after you see it. Thirty meters before you discuss a job interview after you’ve left. Breathing room, doctor.”
“Got it.”
Their rental car, a Ford Fiesta was parked in front. The short walk gave McCauley only a moment to think. But even that was cut short when he noticed something.
“Keep walking to the car,” he whispered, “but casually look up the street.” We passed that SUV, the black one, when we got here. The engine was running. It’s still running.”
She saw it, though couldn’t identify it by make and model. It was just big to her. “So?”
“So, that’s a long time to be sitting outside on a residential street.”
“My goodness, is the good doctor showing a paranoid streak?”
“Not paranoid, observant.”
In the car, they buckled and slowly rolled forward. When they passed the SUV, which McCauley ID’d as a Lincoln Navigator, he glanced at the driver.
“Jesus,” he said.
“Come on,” she replied without concern. “It’s hot, he’s sitting in air conditioning, probably waiting for someone.”
“Right. Us.”
“Is he following?”
McCauley checked his rear view mirror. “No.”
“Then…”
“He might have been waiting for us to leave.”
Alpert didn’t believe it.
At the first intersection off Greene’s street, Meadowlane Avenue, McCauley began to meander through the suburban neighborhood.
“Where are you going?” Katrina asked. Your freeway is the other way.”
“Circling back around. I want to see if the Navigator is gone.”
“Really, Quinn?”
He looped around Valley Springs Avenue, onto Mountain View Street and back to Meadowlane. As they drove down the street, McCauley was relieved that the SUV was gone.
“Okay smarty pants. See, no problem.”
“You’re right.”
McCauley pulled a three-point turn at the end and drove by Greene’s house, feeling particularly stupid that he’d been so suspicious.
At that moment, a near-ear-shattering blast pierced the silence and a shock wave fiercely pitched the Fiesta to the right. McCauley grabbed the wheel with both hands. The back of their rental took the full impact, spinning the car around. The rear window imploded.
Katrina screamed.
“Christ!” McCauley slammed on the brakes to look back.
“What?” she screamed.
McCauley knew. Fire belched from the ruins of what used to be Robert Greene’s house.
Thirty-seven
McCauley was flying through stop signs. Alpert was struggling to hold onto her cell phone and enter a number through the high speed turns and bumps.
“What are you doing?” he shouted.
“Calling the police,” Alpert cried.
“And say what?”
“A bomb blew up a house where we were, but we didn’t do it. We’re paleontologists visiting…”
“Good approach Dr. Alpert. And when they ask what the hell’s a paleontologist and then you explain we just popped in on one of the nation’s leading conspiracy quacks…what then?”
“For God’s sake, Quinn. We can’t just run.”
“We can and we will until we’re safe. Then we get help.”
“At least slow down. Okay?”
McCauley nodded and let up on the gas. One block. Two blocks. It was clear. He took a deep breath. It felt like the first one in minutes.
“I think”—he glanced over to his passenger side mirror, then to his rear view mirror—“we’re…” He was about to say clear. But they weren’t.
McCauley hit the accelerator hard. “Shit!”
Alpert quickly looked around. McCauley flashed his left thumb backwards. “Behind us!”
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. She saw the SUV coming up fast in her side mirror.
“You’re right. Call 911! Now!” he shouted.
Alpert dialed too quickly, missing the right numbers.
“…Catching up!”
They were quickly approaching a stop sign at South Real Road and Alum.
“Hold on!”
McCauley avoided the stop, cut the corner across a lawn, and headed left down Alum.
Katrina dialed again, correctly, and waited for a 911 operator to pick up.
McCauley made another sharp left onto Sweet Water at almost double the speed limit. The force threw Alpert against her door. She dropped the phone.
“Dammit!”
The phone fell between her seat and the door. As she fumbled to find it, McCauley had to speed up even more.
“Careful!”
“Got the phone?”
“Not yet,” she cried out. “What about yours?”
“In my left front pocket. Can’t get to it. Will try.”
McCauley checked the mirrors. He lost the SUV on the quick turn. He slowed down which allowed Katrina to lean over. She groped for the phone, extending her fingers under the seat. “It’s down…”
Suddenly McCauley swerved left, just clearing a school bus that came to a stop ahead of them.
“Can you please drive straight for a few seconds?”
“I’ll do my best. This isn’t quite what I’m used to.” He made a slower right onto Rocky Road Avenue, and another onto April Street. He was now lost in the middle of a meandering bedroom community.
Katrina touched the phone with her index finger, inching it toward her feet.
“Almost.”
“Oh fuck!” McCauley declared.
The SUV crossed an intersection ahead of him.
“Hold on!”
McCauley made a sharp U turn and accelerated, once more slamming Alpert into her seat. He turned right past a row of homes, and right again. As he passed single story houses he peered across the lawns. The SUV was barreling down a parallel street. Now it was a race.
Each vehicle ignored three stop signs as they tore through the neighborhood. Nearly losing control, McCauley careened right, back onto South Real Road. The SUV was in his rear view mirror less than a block behind.
“Forget the phone. Go to the GPS. Get the map up!”
The screen was on climate.
McCauley tried to point but couldn’t take his hand off the steering wheel. “Should be upper left or right, to the side of the screen.”
She took in the display and pressed the map function. “Got it.”
The screen changed to a fairly tight view.
McCauley checked his rear view mirror and floored the car again. “Good. Now find a minus icon.”
“Where?”
He quickly turned away. A woman started crossing the street holding a young girl’s hand. McCauley hit the horn, swerved to the left and flew by the mother and child.
“You might not need to find the phone after all.”
“Why?”
“The woman I nearly hit is already calling the cops.”
He watched as the SUV similarly raced around the pedestrian with even less caution.
“Did you find the minus sign?”
“Not yet.”
“Lower right. It’s usually on the lower right of the screen. On the monitor.”
“There!” she said.
“Press it until the view widens enough to show the highway. We need 99. Find us a way fast.”
She tapped the icon once. Not wide enough. She pressed it again and again, which took the screen from the default five hundred foot view to about a quarter mile.
“It’s in the other direction!”
“Get us there!”
“Okay, sharp left on Planz. Coming up in a block. Wait. No, there’s a dead end first. The next one. Then a right on Akers, another right on…”