The Corvette roared to life. She backed out of Coop’s parking place.
Miranda gave her directions in a low, intense voice, her Kel Tec aimed at Lucy’s head.
When she pulled in front of the Allenby Motel on Cumberland Street, Miranda directed her to the back. She pulled a key out of her pocket. “We’re going to the second level, to room twenty-two. You’re going to stand in front of me, and you’re going to take the key. Here.”
As Lucy turned to face her, Miranda grabbed the golden chain and ripped it off her neck. Lucy cried out, grabbed at her hand, but Miranda shoved her Kel Tec into her ear.
She smiled, clutching the ring and the broken chain in her hand. “You gave it your best shot, Lucy. Don’t try anything else, or I’ll have to shoot you in the head. I thought I saw something pushing out from under your shirt. Be a good girl, do as you’re told, and you might get out of this alive.”
CHAPTER 67
Outside Fort Grant, North Carolina
Coop was more tired than he was afraid, and he knew that meant his brain wasn’t as sharp as it needed to be. The sun had been up for two hours, and an hour before, Kirsten had directed him off the highway to pull into a 24/7 drive-through. They’d eaten breakfast biscuits, and he’d drunk a ton of coffee. Coop had been afraid she’d hurt the kid who took their orders, a smart-mouthed, freckle-faced little idiot who wondered why Kirsten was wearing a cop uniform with her black hair spiked up like a punker, but she’d laughed and told him he was stupid as spit.
She’d insisted on hot-wiring a ratty Dodge Magnum out of the parking lot of a shoe repair shop across the street from the drive-through, switching out the license plate for a rusty old Virginia plate she’d stashed in the Crown Victoria trunk, and left the Ford around the corner on the street.
Even though she could shoot him in a moment of time, Coop was still filled with hope—Kirsten had forgotten to take his cell phone, and as long as it was on and in his pocket, Savich could track them. All he had to do was keep himself alive until the cavalry showed up.
Kirsten had to be tired, too, and he figured that made them about even. He looked over at her and gave a start.
She was staring at him—her eyes fixed, her black mascara smudged a bit—didn’t she blink? She kept his own SIG pressed against his side; though it was a heavy gun, her hand stayed steady. The white makeup she liked to wear was nearly gone now, along with the bloodred lipstick. She looked older than her years in the harsh morning light.
“Hi, there, handsome. You haven’t said a word in a long time. You’re staring at me. Like what you see? Bruce loved to look at me, and he’d touch me, you know, like he was stroking a cat, and I’d arch my back and purr for him. It’s kind of nice having a man look at me like that again, having someone easy to look at to talk to instead of driving around all on my own.
“Hey, why don’t I call you Coop? That’s what I heard that littlegirl FBI agent call you. You two sleeping together? You are, right? I got that vibe loud and clear. What, you playing at being a gentleman, not saying a word?”
“You’re welcome to call me Coop, Kirsten. I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You need a shave, but that black stubble is pretty sexy. You thinking about your girlfriend?”
“I’m wondering where you’re taking us, Kirsten. It seems to me we’re getting pretty far away from Savich, if there’s where you want to be.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world for him. Too many people up there looking for me right now, partner.” She laughed. “I guess you can think of this as a little pilgrimage, back to my daddy’s roots down south. I was slowly heading down the coast, anyway. Daddy always tells me I’ve got to be fast on my feet, be willing to change my plans on a dime.”
“He’d be proud of you, then.”
“I like to think so.” She frowned. “He was smart that way. Remember, he escaped that time in Aspen, jumped from a window two stories up.”
“Yeah, but he got himself caught again because he was driving crazy, weaving all over the road. Why do you figure he was doing that if he was so smart?”
“He was exhausted and probably so hungry he couldn’t think straight, that’s why.” Kirsten pressed the gun harder against his side. “It wasn’t his fault. They had the whole hick town out looking for him. He didn’t have a chance.”
“Why are we traveling south, Kirsten? You said something about a pilgrimage to Daddy’s roots—are we going to visit Starke Prison in Raiford? You want to see your daddy’s cell on death row? But why would you want to see where your daddy got strapped into Old Sparky and had two thousand volts shot through his body?”
She breathed in hard and knuckled away the tears in her eyes, smearing her mascara even more. “It was cruel what those animals did to him, and you know they acted all solemn and moral when they did it.
“Old Sparky! Can you believe that name? I’d like to strap all those animals down and fry them but good.”
“Well, a lot of people agree with you. Old Sparky got retired a long time ago.
“They’re more humane now; with the lethal injection, you’re out and gone in an instant. Still, some people complain the needle hurts going in, and that’s still cruel and inhuman. Go figure.”
She poked him hard with the SIG in his ribs. “Do you honestly believe for a single minute your fed buddies are going to catch me? Do you honestly believe you’ll see me on death row?” She was shaking her head back and forth as she spoke. Then she laughed. “Not in your lifetime, boy.”
“I guess you’re in control of my lifetime right now, Kirsten. I wasn’t the one who flipped the switch on your daddy. Take it easy, okay?”
She laughed again, then turned reflective. “You know, Coop, I always believed it would be nice to visit Daddy’s grave site, say some prayers, since I’ll bet no one else ever has. But he wasn’t buried, they cremated him. They fried him, then they burned him!”
Coop slowed a bit to let a sports car rocket past him. Too bad it wasn’t Savich’s Porsche. He shot a quick look in the rearview mirror. Traffic was getting thicker now, but there wasn’t any sign of a Porsche. Or a police car, for that matter. He had to be patient. He just had to stay alive.
He asked her, “What did they do with his ashes?”
“I couldn’t find out for sure. Some say his ashes were scattered in the Cascades, but I don’t believe that for a minute. They probably made it up, one of those media myths. Yeah, if anything, they threw away his ashes.”
She was angry now, breathing hard, and he didn’t want to get shot. He kept his voice low and calm. “You read all about your daddy on the Internet, right? That’s how you know all about him?”
She turned empty eyes to him. “Yeah, I’m an expert on my daddy, but it wasn’t the same thing as really knowing him, having him hug me, tell me how much he loved me, admired me. I thought about what he and I could have done together, and I got to where I’d ask him his advice, you know, should I put out the lights of that little bitch who disrespected me? Sometimes it was like he answered me; I’d see exactly what to do. But he wasn’t ever really there for me, thanks to my mother.” She paused for a moment, never looking away from him. “I’m thinking maybe we’ll go to Starke Prison, maybe hang out in Raiford; then again, maybe we won’t. I’ll figure it all out; I always do. I’m real lucky that way, lots of brain power. From my daddy, not my bitch of a mother.”
He gave her a smile. “I’ve never been to Starke Prison before. Maybe that’s not a bad idea.”