Page 27 of Tasting Fire
“That I didn’t get. But there was a Ford symbol in the middle of the tailgate.”
Just fucking excellent. There were probably thousands of Ford trucks in Haywood County alone, and every second Cash stood here arguing with Emmy meant the brick thrower was farther away. “Let’s go.”
He ushered her out the door, and she turned to lock it. “That won’t do much good. Is the upstairs apartment locked?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s go.” With his thumb, he pushed the clicker to unlock his truck. As soon as Emmy closed her door, he jammed the truck in reverse and peeled out of the parking space. A pissed-off honk behind him reminded Cash that he hadn’t bothered to check his rearview. He sure didn’t need to slow their pursuit down with an accident. With a wave of his hand, he apologized to whoever he’d cut off.
Then he shifted into Drive and accelerated down Main. He took the corner where the truck had disappeared too fast and his tires protested. The side street was deserted. Not even a leaf blowing down it.
Whoever tossed that brick wouldn’t want to be the only vehicle around, which meant they’d probably headed for busier territory. Cash took a quick left.
“Where are we going?”
“I’d bet you anything they’re headed toward I-40, trying to get lost in traffic.” He glanced at Emmy to find her leaning forward and peering out the windshield as if she had X-ray vision that would miraculously reveal the fleeing truck. “Can you call this in? Maggie will have my hide if I don’t report it. And Grif will want to know, too.”
“I’m assuming you don’t want me to mention that we’re chasing down the suspect.”
Maggie would probably figure that out as soon as she made it to the Murchison building, but why poke a bear before you had to? “You always were the smartest girl I’d ever met, Emmy McKay.”
She left Grif a voice message, then called in the incident to the sheriff’s office and gave a detailed rundown of the events and timeline, conspicuously leaving out the fact that she and Cash had been engaged in what promised to be a hot make-out session at the time the brick introduced itself to the window. When she disconnected, she looked over at him. “They requested that we remain on scene.”
Cash’s response was to take the eastbound onramp onto the interstate.
Emmy sighed. “As much as I’d like to think that we can find the truck, this is probably a lost cause. They have too much of a head start on us.”
She was right, but damned if he wanted to admit it. So he spent another fifteen minutes weaving in and out of light interstate traffic without seeing a single Ford truck. Which had to be some kind of cosmic aberration hereabouts. Finally, he took the Canton exit and busted a U-ey to return to Steele Ridge.
When they pulled up in front of the Murchison building, two squad cars were there and a trio of Maggie’s deputies were checking out the scene from the sidewalk. Before Cash and Emmy could do more than step out of the truck, Maggie was pushing through the front door, scowl on her face and brick and paper in her gloved hands. “I need a couple of evidence bags over here,” she yelled.
Deputy Blaine hustled over and held open a big baggie so Maggie could drop in the brick. Then she slid the threat into another. With nothing in her hands, she pointed an accusing finger at Cash. “Where were you? Dispatch told you to stay put.”
“I thought I might be able to follow the truck we saw racing away.”
With her commanding stride, Maggie approached him and thwapped him upside the head.
“Hey, that’s police brutality.”
“No. It’s big sister discipline.” She turned her death-ray stare on Emmy. “And you? Even if this one is an idiot, you should know better. And don’t even try to tell me you’re both SWAT team members. This wasn’t SWAT business and you know it.”
Emmy held up her hands. “Pleading guilty and asking for forgiveness.”
Maggie huffed and waved them inside. “I need to ask you a few questions.”
They gathered near the staircase that led up to Emmy’s apartment, and Maggie asked, “Where were the two of you when this happened?”
“Outside on the sidewalk,” Cash said.
“Doing what?”
Cash slid a look at Emmy, who lifted her chin and said, “Kissing.”
As if what they’d been doing could be explained so simply.
“Well, that’s just great.” Maggie braced her hands on her hips. “I assume you had your eyes closed.”
“Until we heard the brick go through the window,” Emmy told her. “I was facing the street and saw the truck speeding away. And before you ask, no, I didn’t see the plate number.”
