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They were out of range for their clipped on mics to work, so Cisco grabbed the phone out of his pocket again, then hit the speaker button after tagging Mason’s emergency number.
“Anything?” Mason snapped.
“Not yet, chief, but Doug thinks drones might be effective if you can find any.”
Mason snorted. “Amos had me purchase a half dozen last month. They’re still in boxes in the bus. I’ll get him on it.” The line went dead.
Amos Brazos was the team’s tracker. When Harvé and Muddy weren’t around fornuancedtracking, their teammate could read a fresh trail like someone had left highlighter along the way, but he also knew his limitations, so of course he would have had Mason stockpile some drones.
“Now we’ve got every angle covered, Doug,” Cisco tried to reassure him. “We’ll find Pixie.”
“What if we don’t, Cisco?” Doug lamented, removing one hand from the wheel to scrub it hard down his face. “I… I’ve been such an ass. I haven’t even begun to tell her what she means to me, and I’ve never even really touched her. There’s been nothing but a hug and some hand-holding.”
“You…haven’t kissed her?”
It blew Doug’s mind that he wasn’t hesitant at all to talk about this with Cisco. Those mushrooms had made Doug see these kinds of things in a whole different light. “I gave her a little…auntie-type-kiss, if you know what I mean.”
Cisco nodded sagely. “Well, when you find her, I expect to see a big hero’s kiss laid onto your pretty lady’s lips.”
“You have my promise.” Doug could easily agree to that. Hewantedthat. Kissing sounded really good right now if it meant Pixie would be out of danger. His kiss would be second to wrapping his arms around her and hugging the stuffing out of her to make sure she was real.
Doug’s eyes snapped front and center, seeing a car approach from up ahead. “Damn, Cisco. Is that—?”
“A white Impala. It sure is.” Cisco sat up straighter in his seat and immediately dialed Mason. “Suspect identified on the main road, six point two miles north of your position. He’s headed back in our direction. Maybe he’s had second thoughts.”
“Copy that,” Mason clipped. “Follow but do not engage.”
“We hear you, chief,” Cisco assured him, and Doug gritted his teeth. He wanted to force Harlan’s hand, but if Pixie was in the vehicle and Doug took off after them, he risked a high-speed chase that might end badly.
Assuring himself he was doing the right thing, he eased off to the side of the road, waiting for Harlan to pass so he could turn around and follow at a distance. But—
“What the fuck?” Doug’s heart started beating faster. “Why is he pulling over?”
The white car slowed down as it approached, then the driver tucked off onto the dirt just opposite to where Doug’s truck sat.
“That’s fucking weird.” Cisco undid the clip on his sidearm, and readied himself, as did Doug. They both emerged from the truck and stood, side by side, waiting to see what Harlan would do. So far, he was simply sitting in his car, studying them with an inscrutable look on his face.
Doug wanted to rush over, but managed to hold his ground. If Harlan had a gun, it would suck to get shot for his impatience.
“Chief?” Cisco’s voice cut through the quiet, bird-songed afternoon. He had the boss on the line again. “Suspect has pulled over approximately six miles from the farmhouse. Orders?”
There was a moment of silence, then Cisco nodded before cutting the connection. “He says we’re to wait for backup if things remain status-quo. But if Harlan gets out of his vehicle, we’re clear to engage as necessary.”
Doug’s nerves were humming with the need to move, but he planted his feet more firmly, determined to follow orders. When Harlan’s door started opening, however, all bets were off. Both he and Cisco went on high alert, drawing their guns.
“Don’t shoot me,” Harlan cried out, his hands raised above his head as his door swung open. “Don’t shoot me,” he repeated with a whine.
“Get out slowly, Harlan,” Doug advised in a voice that sounded rough with angst.
“They always shoot bad guys on TV,” Harlan wailed. “I’m not a bad guy.”
“Okay,” Doug told him, moving forward slowly with Cisco backing him up. “I’ll just have to make sure of that, Harlan. I need to see if you’re carrying any weapons. You understand, right? Now get out of the car slowly with your hands up.” He knew the guy was missing a bit of brain-matter, so he wanted to make things as succinct as possible.
Harlan nodded, visibly calming down. “That’s like on TV, too,” he answered, standing up. “You want me to turn around and put my hands on the roof now? Policemen do that, you know.”
If Doug wasn’t so uptight, he would have found the exchange amusing, but as it was… “Yes, Harlan. Put your hands on your car’s roof, please.”
The man couldn’t have been more obliging. He did as he was bid, and even spread his legs in the proper perp-stance.
