Page 58 of The Rough Ride

Illusia squinted through her binoculars through the first explosion. There was no way Liz survived it. Last she’d seen, the bitch was only a few cars away when Liz must’ve popped the trunk. It interfered with her view. She’d been hoping to see the last look on Liz’s face, but it didn’t matter. Evenshecould admit that was a tad macabre. No one could’ve survived that blast.

Damn, she was good. The inferno sent people screaming and running everywhere. Runaway grocery carts, fire engines, and police cars were an entertainment to behold.You’re welcome, good people of metropolitan Washington. One more public menace sent to hell.It was such a shame she couldn’t brag publicly, but she’d deal.

Who knew those two chemicals would ignite like that in the presence of a little gas and an electronic spark? All of herresearch had paid off big-time; thanks to the now-dead bomb specialist she’d played for days in Las Vegas. And unfortunately for the bomb specialist—what happened in Vegas ended in Vegas.

Illusia turned onto the DC beltway and headed for Georgetown. She had reservations for a much-deserved celebratory dinner. A nice bottle of wine, a thick steak, and a tavern full of people to blend with. There’d probably be something about the car fires on the news in an hour or, if she was lucky, rolling along the bottom of the screen already.

She parked out front, handed the valet a twenty, and sauntered into the establishment. She was a little early, so she flirted with a Fabio-type at the bar over a glass of champagne.

Halfway through her steak, a special alert trolled across the TV monitor about the car explosions. She almost knocked the waiter over trying to get close enough to read it. No one in the place was even aware they were eating with a famous person who’d just made history. This was excitement at its best.

And tonight, in the local news, several cars exploded at the Big4Less store on President’s Road. No injuries or casualties reported. More on your local news station at eleven.

What? She blinked once. Twice. Shook her head.

She stumbled backward and caught herself on a brass railing.Impossible. She’d seen Liz a hair’s breadth away from the blast.No. No. They had it all wrong. The stupid police and fire just hadn’t discovered Liz’s cremated remains yet. They’d retract it on the eleven o’clock report, for sure.

Illusia waited at the bar for the special alert to repeat itself, just in case she read it wrong. The same wording crept across the monitor.

She clutched her chest and walked back to her table,grabbing the champagne and downing the rest in giant gulps. She cut another bite of steak, but it didn’t taste the same and had gone cold. She guzzled her glass of dinner wine and flagged the waiter for a doggie box and the check.

She’d celebrate tomorrow once the truth came out.Somethinghappened to Liz’s body. Bodies didn’t just incinerate and blow away like dust in the wind. They’d find her—yes, they would. And when they did, they’d have to explain to the public that they were a bunch of incompetent assholes who couldn’t find a dead body in a parking lot.

She scratched a signature on the credit card receipt. It didn’t matter if it was legible or not, it wasn’t her card. It was one of the dozens she’d intercepted and had sent to her. The only places that checked for identification were the liquor stores, anyway. Furthermore, she stiffed the waiter because he’d gotten in her way when she’d tried to read the TV.

Illusia grabbed the doggie box, flung open the front door, and barked at the valet, “Bring my car around right fucking now.”

Okay. Okay.She should’ve said please, but she was upset. She had every right to be livid.

Tapping her foot and waiting for the valet, the Fabio dude sauntered out and asked for her number.Who the hell did he think he was?

“Look, you conceited asshole, I gave you a few minutes of my time because you looked like you were worth it. Then you opened your mouth and convinced me I was wrong.”

The Fabio guy held up his hands and took a few steps back. “Sorry, lady, my mistake.”

Illusia yanked the car door from the hand of the valet and slid into the front seat. She fought with her jammed seatbelt and cursed, catching people out front staring at her andshaking their heads. Screw them.It’s the fucking law, you morons.

The blink of a security camera winked at her from within the ornamental planters on either side of the massive wooden doors.Shit. Damn.

She peeled out of the circle driveway.

Well now, she’d screwed it up real good with that catastrophic dinner. She hadn’t worn one of her wigs, and she’d removed the hologram from her license plate that made it blurry to cops and onlookers.Great. Just fucking great.

Now, because she hadn’t said please, and she hadn’t tipped the waiter, and she hadn’t worn her Dolly wig, she was going to have to stay up all freaking night hacking the security footage from the restaurant and erasing it.

As if killing someone hadn’t been enough shit to do in one day.

33

Nick clicked her seatbelt shut and slipped a blanket around Liz’s shoulders. She was still shaking, her teeth chattering, and muttering random thoughts.

“I need to see Ella and make sure she’s okay. Good God, my leg hurts. I have to see if there’s any damage to the prosthetic.”

Nick’s body tensed. Right then, he’d have given anything to take her place and endure the terror she’d experienced in that parking lot. He gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze as he checked his mirrors pensively and turned onto the highway ramp. The questions that had gnawed at him while the medics and police questioned Liz sat like a rock in his gut.

“When did you buy that car, babe?”

“Nine months ago. Right after I received my second check from DHS. I didn’t want to continue to use Arlene’s car once I had a paycheck. Why?”

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