I’m on Seventh now, on a straightaway. Almost there. I see Leon’s vehicle idling on one side of the empty lot. He’s got a tricked-out Acura, just as I remembered.
Orange caution cones are scattered over the lot. I assume Leon plowed into them to get them out of the way.
I steer into the lot’s entrance, my tires bumping over uneven concrete and crushing a caution cone. The hatchback follows in my rearview mirror.
Leon’s vehicle is already moving. He knows what to do. As the hatchback flies past him, Leon knocks the hatchback’s rear bumper at an angle, sending it spinning. It skids, coming to a rough stop against a dumpster.
I brake hard and bring my truck to a halt at the other end of the lot.
In seconds, Leon and his partner are out of their vehicle and aiming their weapons at the hatchback. Sirens wail. Probably approaching West Oaks PD units responding to bystander 911 calls. But miraculously, no pedestrians were hit that I’m aware of. No damage except to the hatchback itself.
I tip my head back, exhaling. At the same time, I reach for Quinn.
“You okay?” I ask.
She doesn’t say anything. Instead, my girl startslaughing.
“Quinn?”
“Sorry, it’s just…” She covers her mouth, giggling.
“It’s the adrenaline rush. C’mere.” I unbuckle my seatbelt, then hers, and pull her as close as I can across the center console. She’s shivering. I tighten the grip of my arms, and she rests her head against my shoulder.
“It’s just so surreal,” she says. “After everything.”
“I know.”
She takes a few deep breaths, calming down.
Squad cars arrive, lights flashing. Quinn and I get out of the truck, our hands clearly visible so everyone can see we’re not a threat. The patrol officers recognize me. My son’s not among them, but they know Cliff, and I’ve met several of them before.
We stand off to the side while they get our masked assailant out of the hatchback and place him under arrest. He seems dizzy at most, but otherwise unharmed. “Recognize him?” I ask her when they pull his mask off.
“Nope. A rando. Just like the others.”
Once again, we’re playing whack-a-mole. When are these psychos going to stop coming out of the woodwork?
We give our statements, and finally, we’re back in my truck. But instead of driving off, I put my arms around her again, holding her tight. “I’ll take you to the beach house. We’ll get away from all this for a while. I’ll drive straight there.”
“I would like that. Curl up, let you take care of me. You’re really good at it.” Then she lifts her head, separating from me. “But I can’t.”
I look down at her in confusion. “It would be the safest choice. Until?—”
“No,” she says sharply.
I shut my mouth, looking down at her and waiting for her to go on.
“I tried to quit the DA’s office today. I offered Lana my resignation.”
I cup her cheek. “Quinn, no.”
“She refused to accept it. She said we all have failures, and it hurts in the moment. I didn’t quit, but I still felt like giving up. I can’t change the fact that I lost the case. I have no possible wayto make that right. I let the victim and anyone who loves him down, and it hurtsso bad.”
She takes a breath, and I smooth back her hair.
“But not that long ago,” she goes on, “I was ready to give up on the hope of ever being withyou. I thought that was smarter. Safer. But if I had, if I hadn’t taken a risk of kissing you, I would’ve missed this. So I appreciate you wanting to protect me, but I’m going to stay here. I have to find out what’s really going on, and find some way to fight back. Maybe that’s dumb and I’m just making life harder on myself, but I have to try.”
This astonishing woman. How did I ever fail to see her for who she is?